Hold On A Second While I Regain My Sanity

     Okay, imagine for one second that you fall asleep in your bed and you wake up nestled among the leaves in what looks suspiciously like a forest in northern Oregon. You would probably go from groggy confusion to heart-racing panic because being transported perhaps thousands of miles in your sleep to an unknown place is no one's idea of normal. You’d probably wonder where you were, why you were there, but most importantly, how? The only explanation would seem to be supernatural teleportation but let’s take that idea one step further. Imagine growing so weak from starvation in central Alaska that you become trapped in the wild and death is inevitable. You fade out of consciousness after feeling at peace with yourself and the world... and then you wake up on the beaten down carpet of what appears to be an outlet store in the hours preceding dawn. Now, let’s be clear here, this is not a hypothetical, I actually died and became reincarnated in what appears to be my hell. So, I’m not that panicked, because I’ve woken up in many strange places before, but my feelings are leaning toward intense disgust and utter incomprehension. I mean come on, I survive for four months in the wild and God plunks me down in a mall?! It feels like the universe is laughing at the horrible irony of the situation but I ignore it as I begin to scan my surroundings, looking for some way out of this filth. The ceiling looks heavy and confining, or maybe my months spent under the great Alaskan sky have accustomed me to looking up unto nothing but the clouds. My sense of being trapped intensifies and I feel so out of place it is as if I am looking out onto a world that I cannot interact with yet feels very solid beneath my boots. In this dark mess of capitalism, I can already feel the stains of consumerism rubbing off on me, and a growing sense of uncleanliness builds. In the dark half-light pouring through the slatted gate trapping me in the store, I can see boxes and packages clustered upon neatly organized tables and on shelves that line the walls. It doesn’t take much to figure out where I am, a toy store. Now must people in a toy store would be experiencing excitement, curiosity, or maybe indifference, but toy stores to me feel… artificial. The mere idea of tying the range of a child’s imagination to a bulk-rate heap of plastic is appalling. No one’s exploration should be limited to a product made for one purpose, to make money. I walk to the front of the store to examine the front gate and notice that it is securely bolted down, leaving no thoughts of busting my way through. However, a covered keypad mounted on the wall gives me hope, but as I flick it open it doesn't take me long to realize that I need the passcode to open the gate. At this point, I've got to admit I'm not exactly an expert on the geography of a mall. I have probably only been in a mall on three separate occasions since middle school. However, I did use to work in a McDonald's so I know every store has to have a back entrance. As I walk further and further to the back of the store, the light begins to fade to near-darkness, but I'm used to finding my way in dusky forests so I have no trouble finding the door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. As I tentatively creak the door open, the facade of child-like wonder drains away instantly upon entering a room piled with beat-up boxes that are half-heartedly arranged in piles. Too focused on finding a glowing exit side, I accidentally let the door slam shut behind me, plunging me into darkness. I consider walking back to open the door but the darkness helps me spot the exit sign, almost too dim to notice. My initial disgust with the store begins to be replaced by relief, but I realize for the first time I have no idea what town I am in, or even what country. Preparing myself for the possibility of anything awaiting me outside, I open the door onto a freshly paved parking lot underneath a clear sky encroached upon by brick buildings. For some reason, a sense of familiarity overtakes me but instead of relief, my dread builds. I jog to the empty street next to the parking lot, my legs feeling weak as they absorb the shock of running on solid asphalt. I ignore everything while I desperately search for the street name or anything that would tell me I'm wrong. But there it is, the green street sign bears a name I remember all too well from my high school days. The world halts for a second and I can feel the air stalling in my lungs, it can't be, it can't be, it can't be... but it was. I was back in Annandale, the place I had finally escaped for good. Or so I'd thought.