The Unreal Me

My life was relatively boring and filled with the vicissitudes that many experience. I was loveless for the majority of my adulthood. Potential relationships barely went anywhere after numerous dates and one night stands. I was constantly disrespected at my job and placed at the bottom of the barrel. Oh, and I shied away from thrilling activities. Despite my inadequacies in life, I found an outlet that described me in a nutshell. One day, I was surfing the TV guide. I came across a new show called “The Unreal Me.” The show showcased the lives of three men and one woman. Their lives showcased a basic lifestyle filled with many challenges. However, their dreams and aspirations would come to fruition, blurring the lines between reality and fiction. The leading character was Jake. He was a womanless individual who couldn't catch a romantic relationship. However, once he dreamed about engaging in love-making activities, women would flock towards him. The second character was Chantal. She was an ordinary woman who occasionally turned heads. However, when she dreamed about being a runway model, a model agency would call her for photoshoots and adorn her in designer clothing. The third character was West. He was a coward and afraid of living on the edge. His dream was to live boldly, causing him to climb the tallest structures and dive from them. Finally, the fourth character was Jose. Jose was a reserved and quiet man who avoided social gatherings. When he dreamed of being the life of the party, he suddenly became talkative and extraverted. The characters were happy and thrived in their worlds with a better sense of self. I knew this show was fictional, but I became emotionally invested. I faithfully watched every episode until things began to take a turn.

One cold night, I rushed home from a grueling shift, yawning and fighting to stay awake. I glanced at the clock. It was 8 PM, the premiere time for a new episode. I grabbed a bag of popcorn from the pantry and sat in front of the TV.

The TV blared, “It's me, it's me, the unreal me!” It's me, it's me, the unreal me!”

The intro introduced Jose, Chantal, Jake, and West before transitioning to the opening scene. Chantal was modeling, Jose was talking to his peers, West was climbing heights, and Jake was on a date. All of them were having fun, living with gratification and content. Soon, my eyes weighed heavy. I fell asleep on the couch, covered with popcorn. The next day, I sprung from the couch with a smile. I went to the kitchen and made coffee in the Keurig. The machine rumbled as I looked out over the thriving city. People strutted down the sidewalks, going about their day, exiting and entering stores with a smile. Soon, the coffee cup was filled to the rim. I drank the coffee as I entered the bathroom, dragging a brush over my hair and cleaning my teeth. After performing my routine, the crowd outside had grown. I opened the front door and walked down the steps to the sidewalk. After passing a few street signs, I heard a loud noise blaring down the street. I walked further down the sidewalk to see a group of people entering a party venue with food. Colorful lights pierced the window, and people yelled out their conversations. I paused by the building, looking at the thriving group. I wish I could be there.

Suddenly, a man approached me on the sidewalk, “Hey bro, why haven't you gone inside?”

“I'm not here to party. I was taking a walk!” I firmly expressed,

Suddenly, the man grabbed my arm and walked me into the party.

Cha boom, cha boom, cha boom! The music blared from the speakers, producing a vibrant sound. The partygoers clustered on the dance floor, holding red solo cups filled with alcohol and juice. The air was thick with prespiration and off-brand cologne.

“Hey, yo, we got another guest!” The man called out.

A man with a microphone asked for my name.

I trembled inside and stuttered, “Im, im, im Drift!”

Suddenly, my nervousness disappeared. My brain flashed with thoughts about Jose stepping out of his comfort zone at the party. I broke into a suave dance, flailing my arms before taking a shot of Hennessy. The drink coated and sizzled my throat like hot grease, filling my eyes with tears. I mingled with strangers as the horny women approached me for a lap dance. My body vibrated, trapping me into a trance, watching them shake and grind. I finally belonged somewhere.

The party ended at 10:00 PM. My body was euphoric. I barged out the door and stripped off my shirt, revealing my hairless chest, and sprinted to my apartment. I stumbled in the door, spewing up alcohol and food before passing out. The next morning, an annoying ray of sunshine burned my eyelids. I squinted my eyes and moaned as I rose from the vomity floor. Vomit lingered on my clothing as I entered the bathroom and glanced in the mirror. My hair stood on end, and I cleaned myself up. I went to the kitchen and poured a cup of water, pondering about the day. I was no longer myself. I was living my dreams, something I believed I would never do. I never wanted to leave this high.

Throughout the day, I roamed the house, halfway emptying the trash, vacuuming erratically, and partially washing the dishes. Eventually, I sat on the couch and forced myself to calm down. I realized that I needed to buy bread and lunch meat. I snatched my shopping bags from the kitchen and darted to Sprouts. Dozens of people swarmed the store and pushed their carts. The basket contents appeared bigger than usual. Despite the crowd, I pulled five loaves of bread from the almost bare shelf. I exited the aisle and rushed to the deli department, when a captivating woman appeared. She was slim, brown skinned, and smelled like Gucci Guilty. I stopped dead in my tracks, shaking and widening my eyes at her.

“Pttt, ppt.” My feet clanked the ground as I walked towards her with haste.

I dropped to the ground and shouted, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

The crowd of shoppers turned from their activities and looked at the scene.

The woman gasped. She jumped back, analyzing me until she recognized me from the party. She was thrown off but gave me her name and number for a date. Eventually, we parted ways, and the grocery store resumed its activities. I returned home and shouted at the top of my lungs, dancing around the apartment until I fell asleep. Two days later, I dressed in a black button-up shirt and jeans. I combed my hair and doused my body with axe cologne until the pump toppled from the socket. Strangely, I did not hear my phone make a chime, a chirp, or a ring. I checked my phone to see zero notifications from the girl confirming she'd be at the restaurant. I scoured the phone app and dialed her number.

"Bling, bling, bling!" the phone buzzed. "Hello, leave a message at the beep!" The call went to voicemail.

I dialed again.

"Hello, leave a message at the beep!" The same annoying voicemail tone echoed.

I yelled into the phone, leaving a voicemail. “Hey bitch, why are you not answering your phone!”

“Boop," I smashed the end call button. "Pow!” I threw the phone against the wall.

The phone fell to bits on the floor. I paused and looked around the room, heating up like a boiling tea pot. An animalistic scream rattled from my throat as I clenched my teeth and pounded my chest. My eyes dried up as the white walls appeared to be a harrowing shade of black. A series of doors squeaked from the surrounding apartments as the neighbors flooded out, analyzing the ruckus.

One woman softly questioned, “Is everything alright in there?”

“Leave me alone!” Get the fuck away from the door!” I shouted.

I grabbed a heavy vase and threw it against the door, causing the neighbors to scatter in disbelief. I kicked the coffee table and thrashed a chair against the wall until a piece bounced off the wall and struck my face. Breathless and faint, I collapsed to the floor, crying incessantly as the pain rippled across my sweaty skin. “What's going on?” After the upheaval, time progressed slowly. I was stretched out on the floor, watching the ceiling fan rotate, blowing cool air over my body. The air created a sensation down my back, exciting me to do something that would put me in the wind. I rose from the floor and began to think about Tre, the sky diver from the party. I stepped past the broken objects on the floor and pulled up Instagram on my tablet.

I began to write him a DM, “Hey man, it's ya boy Drift from da party thee oda day."

"Can you book me for a skydive? I appreciate it!” I typed.

I forcefully pressed the send button and waited by the tablet for a response. Tre informed me a few minutes later that he had booked me for a skydive the next day. I replied with a thumbs up and downed a sleeping pill before bed. Eventually, the sun rose, beaming into the bedroom. I brushed my teeth, showered, and dressed before I bolted out the door and went to the skydiving site. Standing at the entrance was Tre and a team of skydivers in orange attire with parachutes on their backs.

Tre asked, “Hey man, ya ready for some fun?”

“Hell yeah, let's get it.” I expressed.

I snatched the skydiving gear and put it on abruptly, leaving wrinkles about its appearance. I briskly walked with the men, ascending the stairs that led into a long plane. We reviewed the precautionary measures for a brief moment before the first man jumped. I watched from the window as he descended below the rich blue sky, fidgeting at the anticipation of my dive from the plane. After four other men had jumped, Tre ushered me to the diving area.

Tre uttered, “Jump when you are ready, man.”

“Okay!” I expressed.

I ran in place before detaching the parachute from my attire. Tre and others gasped at my swift action before I plunged from the pane.

The men screamed simultaneously, “Hey! Wait, don't jump!”

I plummeted several feet from the plane to the sky, noticing everything flash before my eyes. My breath quickened, and I thought, “This is it.” The wind whipped from many directions, shooting underneath my clothing with a burning sensation. I felt like a bird attempting to fly without its wings. My head crippled with a piercing headache until I uttered a loud gasp in realization of what I was doing.

I cried out, “Ahhhhhhh! Somebody help me, please; this is not me. This isn't normal for me!”

My voice echoed in the wind as I plummeted towards the Eastray ocean below. I wiggled and failed to move my body to divert the landing, however, it was impossible. The egregiously cold ocean was my final destination. Eventually, I bashed into the water, sinking below the surface. Water forced its way down my throat before I floated above. I moved my arms and legs through the harsh current until I reached a van on the shore. A group of medical personnel ran towards me as I wobbled the rest of the way, collapsing in their arms for help. Eventually, I woke up in a white, cold, bleach-infested room. My body was stripped bare and surrounded by Medical personnel who stuck tubes and monitored machines, jotting down notes. After tireless effort, the executive doctor walked in the room with a clipboard. I rose from the bed and locked eyes with him, expecting the unknown.

He sat by the bed and calmly revealed, “Drift, we have completed our tests. Thankfully, you do not have hypothermia, and your minor fractures will heal on their own.” He paused and touched my hand, looking deep into my eyes. “Concerning your mental state, your reports on how you've been feeling and our observations indicate that you are experiencing delusional episodes. As a result, they have caused you to perform dangerous acts. You can rest assured now as I have prescribed you antipsychotic medicine for treatment.”

I gripped the doctor's hand tighter. A series of tears rolled from my eyes, freezing me as the doctor finished reviewing the rehabilitation plan. Eventually, the days passed, and the tubes vanished. I rose from the hospital bed, renewed. I took the pills daily, washing them down with water and a fragile hope. Soon, I rediscovered the essence of life. Visitors' laughter sparked conversations, and friendly interactions drew me into conversations. I made friendships and acquaintances that cheered me on my journey. I visited parks, observing the animals' docile demeanor. The Eastray ocean, once a death trap, was now a beauty. TV, nonexistent.