***There is this version of this short story, and then there is a more ‘zombie’-themed one that I have not quite finished. There are also no quotation marks because my favorite book, Severance by Ling Ma, does not have quotation marks.***
If Oakley had known that Margot would be dead by Tuesday, then perhaps she would have told her how she felt.
If Oakley had known The Truth.
What if Oakley had known The Truth?
What is the Truth?
But it didn’t start like that.
It was midnight that Monday. Oakley was stuck at the Newsroom, the only media company around anymore. Not that anyone believed anything. People had their own conceptions of fact versus fiction. Another day another dollar, as the saying goes. The Newsroom itself was absolute chaos, papers flying, interns scrambling, producers polishing the segments. It didn’t phase her. She was used to it. The air of perfection was ingrained in her veins.
Oakley, did you hear? It was Lars. His usually perfectly coiffed blond hair was out of place, his sharp cheekbones were rosy red; something was definitely wrong.
What?
Shit. He shook his head and pointed to the office area. James wants you.
When she didn’t move right away, his baby blues got big, and he mouthed, ‘it’s urgent.’ To Oakley, all news was sort of in its own way ‘urgent.’ And it was so hard to define a word such as urgency.
So she conceded and went down to James’ office. He was engrossed in some sort of document; a smeared pair of reading glasses sat on his bulbous red nose emphasized by his bushy white beard. Without looking up, he waved her inside the glass door but did not put the papers down, instead opting to balance them on his beer belly.
What’s wrong? Oakley asked, sitting down. By this point, she knew how to deal with James’ bullshit. It was his way or no way. He was silent for a moment.
You don’t see what’s going on out there? He made a sharp-pointed gesture with his arm towards the phones ringing off the hook and all other panic occurring outside the door.
She picked her cuticle. It started to bleed profusely. She wiped it on her black work pants. It stung.
Honestly, James, it’s just another day at work; always chaos. Oakley stood up. If you’re not going to tell me what’s going on, then I’m going to leave.
Sit. Down. Now. He said gruffly. She sat back down abruptly, and he told her.
The first mistake: not believing him.
If Oakley had known that Margot would be dead by Tuesday, then maybe she would’ve told her how she felt.
It’s always girls named Margot. On Monday, Jupiter, a mutual friend, and colleague told Oakley under the stairwell. For goodness sake, John Green wrote a book about a Margot, so you know they’re a world of trouble.
Jupiter bit into her second package of Bosco Sticks that Oakley stared at longingly, and she honestly couldn’t be inclined to disagree. Margot changed when she dyed her hair. Honey blonde to a bright artificial red. Darker hair, darker attitude, a group of friends with more pent-up rage. They listened to heavy metal and went on concert tours together.
That’s not the point, nor did it matter what Margot did that Oakley did not know. Oakley didn’t realize (or maybe she did learn, but it was too late) that the last thing that Margot did tell her was of the utmost importance. It would help her discover The Truth.
It was The Truth that James and the news stations were trying to cover. It was The Truth that people deserved to know but didn’t, and now it was causing loads of consequences people never imagined.
Nobody could have ever imagined the influence of The Truth, the effect it would have. And yet somehow, people still refused to believe what was staring at them straight in the face. As groundbreaking as it was, the Truth was infected by something so surreal that it was pushed aside.
Maybe the danger of The Truth was knowing it at all.
The Truth began Sunday night when Margot and Oakley watched the sky after ice skating. Their breath rose in the air, a thermos of rum-infused hot chocolate passed around.
Margot I- Oakley began.
You know those aren’t stars. Margot pointed up to the sky, scattered with tiny white lights.
I’m sorry?
Those aren’t stars. Margot began to sit up. When are you going to start questioning things, Oak?
Where did this come from?
This isn’t real. Margot said again. None of this is real. They’re disappearing, Oakley, disappearing. Her manic eyes glazed over, and she began to stare stoically into the distance.
Margot, are you okay? I think I’m going to go. You’re worrying me.
With a quick shake of her head, she snapped out of her gaze and smiled so wide it was almost comical.
I’m fine, Oakley. See? She gestured out.
See? See what?
He’s watching. He’s always watching.
I-I don’t understand this Margot, you’re speaking nonsense. Ever since you got with that group. Margot’s smile snapped shut with a click.
Nonsense, she murmured, twisting a lock of red hair around her finger, speaking incredibly slowly. You know what? I just didn’t want you to go to anyone else…But, Oakley…Go talk to Julien. Julien will help.
Gosh, this is weirder than when Lars fired everyone in his three-man band and still asked for advice on posters. Oakley said to fill the silence, chuckling nervously, pushing her hair from her forehead in a nervous gesture, and then Margot began to laugh, cackle hysterically.
Right. I’m gonna go. Oakley grabbed her thermos brushed her pants of dirt, and walked away, leaving Margot and her cackling behind.
Oakley never would see Margot again.
Her eyes snapped open. It was Tuesday. James’s messy office came back into focus.
Oakley almost believed her internal monologue for a moment, debating the truth of Margot’s statements or if the conversation itself had just been a fever dream. Then, as she stood there processing James’ words, she realized she hadn’t heard from Margot in weeks.
A pandemic? Oakley’s green eyes looked like bulging emeralds on her round, flushed face. You can’t be serious.
Dead. James said, once again not looking up from his mountain of paperwork. His glasses were streaked with grease.
I don’t understand; where did this come from? Why does nobody know yet? We eradicated all diseases years ago.
My dear child. James boomed distortedly. You are so naive; we have not gotten rid of anything. We simply have timed out the right moment to let these out to control those among us. Do you ever watch the flowers or the trees and notice how they don’t die? Suddenly, his head jerked, and he seemed to stare at a spot in the wall for longer than usual.
Oakley was taken aback. James never talked in such a manner. He always gave her the facts straight from his mountain of paperwork and always supported what the Newsroom put out into the media cycle. Questions about the material typically weren’t asked, but then again, they didn’t need to be asked, did they? That was what Oakley had always believed at the very least. Oakley had to wonder if The Truth was in front of her face the entire time, within her cubicle at the Newsroom.
James? She waved her hand in front of his face. Hello? Earth to James, you were talking about a pandemic. He twitched slightly and continued to stare before snapping out of it. He gave her the same wide comical smile that Margot had given and began to cackle; his entire body convulsed and twitched with laughter, spittle flowed from the corner of his mouth. Oakley went outside the glass door to his office.
Lars?! Jupiter?! She called out. Anyone? James is convulsing or something. Can someone help?
But to no avail, nobody came to help; instead, everyone seemed to be staring off into space. Oakley blinked, and everyone went back to normalcy. Jupiter almost rushed into her with a carrier full of Starbucks.
Oh, hey Oak, are we still on for Bosco-sticks under the stairs later?
Yeah, of course. She replied absentmindedly as Jupiter walked away.
What the actual fuck is happening? Oakley muttered to herself. Maybe she did need to see Julien for a nice strong drink.
What Oakley didn’t know was that it was indeed too late.
Back in James’ office (where he had miraculously returned to his normal state as though no convulsions had occurred), she finally got him to talk about the pandemic. An illness called ILL-52. It had scientists baffled, and it had been fifty-two years since the last wave of disease. James gave her a sheet and said they would put out in the news cycle that the illness was caused by the massive influx of dead bodies in various parts of the world. Water contamination is what it was unofficially, according to James.
There was no way to detect it. First, it slowly ate at organs in the human body before making its way to the eyes and brain. Typically by that point, it was too late to detect, and people had long become resistant to the antibiotics used to treat it.
By the time James pushed her out of his office with a pile of paperwork, it was time for lunch. Oakley headed to the cafeteria grabbed her Bosco sticks and a thing of pulp-free orange juice before heading under the stairwell outside of it. Jupiter arrived a few minutes later, devouring her food with the same intensity she usually did.
Have you heard from Margot at all?
It’s always girls named Margot. But, for goodness sake, John Green wrote a book about a Margot, so you know they’re a world of trouble. Jupiter opened her second package of Bosco sticks. Oakley was flummoxed and shook her head as though to clear it of what she just bore witness to hear.
I’m sorry, what did you say?
It’s always girls named Margot. For goodness sake, John Green wrote a book about a Margot, so you know they’re a world of trouble. She opened yet another package of Bosco sticks.
Yeah, Jupiter…I know you just said. I asked if you had seen her recently. Oakley didn’t understand. Jupiter had said the same thing about Margot on Monday.
Jupiter continued to repeat that exact phrase repeatedly and had a seemingly endless supply of Bosco stick packages which, for some reason, Oakley had just noticed and was beginning to grow concerned.
I-I think I’m going to go. She said, snatching up her food and walking backward slowly. Then, out of nowhere, Jupiter grabbed her wrist.
Ouch, Jupiter Wh-
Go. To. Julien. She managed to wheeze out before snapping back into her loop.
The phrase from Jupiter continued, her eyes began to glaze over, she started at a single spot in the distance, and she bore the same comically wide smile as Margot had and as James had before he started convulsing.
Oakley ran out as quick as her legs would carry her. As she passed the monitors showing the news, the headlines regarding the new illness flashed by her eyes. She was beginning to wonder if the symptoms exhibited by her friends and boss were a direct result.
Now she would need to see Julien about that drink.
Perfectly manicured, blush pink fingernails drummed against the bar’s pure white marble countertop after work. Oakley sighed as the burn of expensive scotch made its way slowly down her esophagus.
Do you know what’s funny?
Julien De Froid, the bartender, a man who Oakley had become rather fond of in the short time she was seated at the bar, glanced up from where he was crafting a margarita. A bead of sweat made its way from his slicked-back golden hair down his beautiful face, twinkling blue eyes, a charming smile.
What?
He topped the glass with a small pink umbrella and grinned.
Everything has been so weird lately. You have to have noticed something. Margot and Jupiter both told me to come to talk to you. Margot is missing, do you know what happened to her?
Julien looked at her curiously and returned to wiping the counter down with a rag, not the reaction she had expected.
No, but it doesn’t matter; your questions will never be answered. He took a deep breath. He seemed to physically glitch and have difficulty formulating his next set of words. Oakley had to lean closer to hear him.
I want to show you something, Julien said.
Their conversation diminished, Oakley pushed a wayward strand of curly, midnight black hair away from her face. It was all fading.
What am I seeing? Oakley exclaimed, reaching out as her world melted away. Where are all the colors going?
You’re seeing the true nature of reality. Julien stared blankly as if she had known the entire time. You think the world is just this magical place filled with bright primary colors. He waved his hands around in a dramatic fashion. You think this is a world where nothing can go wrong. It’s like what Margot told you, what Jupiter tried to say to you. What James has been conditioned to hide. You don’t know half of it, darling; the government’s advertisements are meant to turn your brain to rot. Not a single word of it is the truth.
They release pandemics after a certain number of years… It’s called population control. Those perfect flowers and trees that never seem to die or go away even in the coldest winters are holograms. You probably don’t even notice the air is so toxic living plants die. It’s barely breathable for humans. Do you think they care about all of you by keeping you alive when they can’t even take care of plants? The Newsroom has been covering everything up.
This can’t be real! I don’t want this anymore, take me out! Oakley was beginning to sound erratic, similar to how Margot, Jupiter, and James had expressed.
Shh. You have to see; you have to understand. Everyone else did. Everyone does. Julien whispered to her; it felt like someone ran their fingers through her hair.
Julien calmed her down. He didn’t want to risk Oakley glitching and being taken away. It was too early in the experiment.
How am I seeing this?
It’s an antidote. The world you live in isn’t real. It’s a simulation. You’re simply a pawn in a government game. They poison the water spray it all over the food. You take those pills you call medicine, so you don’t feel anything. Any happiness or joy is superficial.
As Julien explained, he knew she would simply forget. Oakley smiled so vastly it was almost comical. Then, she began to cackle and convulse.
Julien eased her down, looking straight ahead in communication to the Newsroom. The camera panned backward over the city, showing each of the people it consumed under its control. They banged against their screens, unable to get out but unaware of anything in their surrounding reality regardless.
If only people had considered how their lives would have been different if it was real.
BLOG IT BABY 