It’s not easy being afraid to go out. Even harder to face yourself. The anxiety you feel that keeps you closed off, stuck inside yourself. It is debilitating. This is my life now and it has been for the last few years. They tell me I just need to calm down. That I’m just depressed and need to find an outlet to get out whatever is holding me back, but they don’t understand. I’ve never had control over this. It is something deep inside of me welling up. Like a balloon being filled with too much air and about to burst, and I can’t stop it. Though I try, I don’t know how to and that scares me.

My name is Rory, but my nickname is Red. Why Red? Well, it’s because I’m a little strange. A few years ago, when the anxiety started, my hair started growing out red. I don’t mean like a ginger but a crimson red. Just a few strands here and there at first but then it started to overtake my whole head. Most people’s hair goes grey or white as they age but mine did not. That’s not why I originally got my nickname though. I was born with red eyes.

Back then the doctors had no idea why my eyes were the color they were, no matter how many tests I went through. That was the first handful of years of my life. Test after test after test, just to get the same answer. “We’re not sure what the cause of this anomaly is but your son seems to be in good health. Please come back next month to see if anything has changed.” They deemed me normal but yet they wanted to keep their eyes on me, just in case. I spent more time in hospitals and labs than I did in my own bedroom. The nurses were my friends and I knew them all by name. This was my normal.

My parents seemed to have a harder time with it than I did. I can’t really fault them for anything but they were just overly cautious people. My mother being more superstitious than anything. I once overheard her speaking with my father about whether or not I was cursed by something demonic. What a lovely sentiment, right? My mother at least still loved me regardless and took care of me while I was getting lab work done. My father ignored me like I wasn’t even there. Always a work meeting or some event happening that prevented him from being able to be around. To be honest, I don’t have many early memories of him. I’d often fantasize as a child that he wasn’t actually my father and came into the picture after I was born. That is how I viewed him, I guess.

Things settled down a few years later and my parents softened to the fact that they had a red-eyed son. We went out as a family, had dinner at home as a family, and socialized with other people just like a regular family would socialize.

Home became the safe zone. A place where nothing could harm me. Didn’t matter if I had more tests or appointments to go to, I knew coming home meant it was all over for the day. Coming home meant my own room, a warm blanket in the living room, and tasty meals around the dinner table as a family. It was always the same every night. I really appreciate this in my otherwise chaotic medical life.

One evening though, things seemed different than a normal night. My parents were preparing dinner but keeping to themselves and staying silent. Not the usual family conversation being made like it was every other night. Tonight something seemed off. I’m not really sure I can explain it but even when I tried to say hello, they would just look at each other and then continue making dinner.

The table was set in silence. The food was placed and plated in silence. We ate in silence. Near the end of the meal I finally got a little courage and put my fork down.

“What’s going on? Why are you acting weird and not talking? Did I do something wrong?”

Then there was a knock at the door.

I looked over at the door and then looked at my parents. They were not making eye contact with me, but also were trying to ignore the fact that someone was at the door. Perplexed, I started to get up.

“Oh wait, honey!” My mother quickly said as she too stood from her seat. “I’ll get the door. Please understand,” she said with a slight tentativeness in her voice, “we …only want what’s best for you.”

I now was beginning to get worried. Who was at the door? What were they talking about “the best for me”?

My mother made her way to the door and started unlocking it. As she opened the door I could see a group of men in dark clothes. They were wearing gloves and had their faces partially obscured with either masks or the collar of a shirt.

“What is going on here?” I questioned allowed.

My mother moved aside as the men passed her walking towards me. Panic began to drift into my mind and time seemed to slow down a bit. These men were from the hospital. Was I being taken away without my consent? As thoughts began to race through my head, I started to get dizzy. My vision began to blur and I could hear a buzzing sound in my ears.

I stumbled out of my chair, knowing that this was not right, and tried to make my way towards the staircase upstairs. If I could reach my room, it might be safe. As I rounded the table, one of the men tried to cut me off. In my slightly drunken stupor I managed to push him away and continued toward the stairs. Two more of the men made a beeline towards the staircase as well as the first man stood up. Seeing that I couldn’t make it to the stairs, I turned into the kitchen to try to get away. The buzzing in my ears was getting louder and my vision was blurring so much that I almost couldn’t see. The men started to enter the kitchen with me.

The back door. I needed to reach the back door on the other side of the kitchen. The apartment was no longer safe and I needed to go. I ran for the door without thinking. I could hear my mother in the background start to cry out loud and my father was begging me to calm down. Time seemed to slow down even more as I reached out for the door knob. As soon as I touched it, I closed my eyes and everything went silent.

When I opened my eyes again, I was down the street running. I glanced back towards our apartment building and I could hear fire trucks and police sirens.

I didn’t know what happened but I knew I just had to run. I had to get away before things got worse. They chased me down an alleyway but I managed to slip into an old friend’s business back entrance without being seen. The group of men rushed past the door and kept going, rounding the corner into the next series of alleyways. They hadn’t seen me.

This was my chance. I bolted out the door and made my way back but something caught my leg and I tripped into a row of garbage cans. Before I knew it, I was on the ground with a loud crash as the cans scattered garbage everywhere.

“Over this way!” I heard a voice yell. The group was coming back in this direction and I was about to get caught. I began to panic. What was I going to do? This is the end! There is no way I could get away now.

I struggled with the panic as everything went silent and time began to slow down. I could see the group begin to come back into my alleyway. Each foot slamming the ground as they ran, one by one they collected in front of my vision, which began to blur. This is it. I am going to get taken.

My mind delved deeper into silence and I felt numb, except for a single bit of something deep in the pit of my stomach. It grew and traveled up my chest into my neck. I closed my eyes, preparing for the worst when the feeling reached into my brain and I heard a buzzing noise. The group was almost right on me now. The buzzing noise grew louder and louder and louder and I grabbed my head as it intensified.

All of a sudden, everything stopped. No more footsteps, no more buzzing, just the darkness behind my eyes. I opened them to look and what I saw was myself. I was standing in front of myself staring down the group and they were not moving. They looked frozen in time and had terrifying looks on their faces. I watched as the other me took one step closer to them and they riled in pain. One more step and I could hear the loud CRACK of bones snapping. A few of the group members screamed and fell like they had been hit by a blunt object on the back of their knees. I closed my eyes and heard more screams. What was going on?

And then silence.

I opened my eyes again and there I was standing on the other side of the group. They were all lying on the ground, motionless. They were all dead. The other me was gone. I looked back on the decimation with panic setting in again. I turned and ran away without looking back. What happened? Was that me? What was that feeling? I didn’t know but I needed to get away.