Ego Sum Pt. 2

Read Part 1 Here

The man arose the next day, starting the morning by taking a deep breath as his feet swung over the side of his mattress, firmly planting them on the wood below. The first thing he noticed was that his alarm had not gone off. The world outside was already basking in sunlight, despite the clock reading 5:55 A.M. The number flashed before him, a fiery red colour. 

He brushed it off - having the clock for years and years meant that it was bound to give out sooner or later. Last night was just it's time to go. Marion rose, moving through his room with swaying steps. Clothes for the day were already laid out, which he took into the bathroom with him. Nothing out of the ordinary happened as he washed his face, brushed his teeth, got dressed, and stalked into the kitchen for breakfast.

As he set the kettle on he saw the stove’s time blinking red as well - stuck at 5:55. Sucking in a breath, he looked to the microwave. The same angry numbers started back at him. “The power went out,” he told himself. “The power went out during the night and the clocks… they got messed up.” It was the only explanation that made sense, one that had happened in his childhood as well. There were a few times when the power had gone out during the night, usually during a big storm and his parents had told him that’s why the clocks were all funny. 

This was a normal thing: there must have been a storm that he slept through or a damaged power line. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Marion sped through the rest of his morning routine, catching the same bus as he always did, walking through the office building’s doors, and greeting Shannon at the front desk. Everything went on as normal. A smile even appeared on Marion’s face as he took the elevator up to his office floor. Sitting down at his desk, and placing down his bag, he recognised a blank space on the table before him. Empty. No keyboard. 

The same anxiety that plagued him the day prior struck through his chest. The morning had gone so well that he had assumed it was going to continue going well. The strangeness was supposed to be gone, the oddness gone. 

Marion’s expression hardened, staring daggers down into the blank space. He stood, deciding that he was going to avoid the oddness and just get a new keyboard. There were sure to be some in IT, even if they weren’t in the best of condition. Marching down the hallway, right back into the elevator he had left moments ago, he was a man on a mission. 

The IT department was as bland as ever, very few people came through there - there never seemed to be any IT problems. For a software company, it seemed off. Marion wouldn’t let those thoughts plague him, instead, he brushed them away. The world wasn’t odd, it was mundane.

It was perfect.

He stepped into the IT office. There sat only one individual, in a cramped cubicle near the back of the room. The lights glowed a terrible fluorescent - but that was typical of any of the office buildings Marion had ever stepped into. Just like all of the rooms he had walked in while working for his current company. Average. 

Not wanting to scare the poor fellow, he knocked on the wall beside him - the sound seemed to echo throughout the entire room, even down the hall. The entire department seemed empty. “Uh, hello?” The man - no that wasn’t right - the person sitting before him was younger than a man, no older than nineteen. Nineteen and already working in a dingy cubical. “Mr-” he looked for a placard “-Blanke?”

The boy looked up at him, eyes red and tired. His expression seemed to light up some when his gaze ghosted over Marion’s form, “How can I help you, Mr. Trafford?”

Marion’s heart rate skyrocketed for a moment as the boy said his name. It wasn’t as though he was wearing a nametag or anything: he shook it off. It was nothing. “I was just wondering if you had an extra keyboard down here? It would seem like mine has been taken.” 

Mr. Blanke’s eyes stopped looking hopeful, far less kind. “Mr. Tafford, that’s the second keyboard you’ve lost this week - or maybe you damaged them and threw them away.” He turned away from Marion, scowling at his computer screen as he began typing away. “You know company policy states that if that happens you’re going to be held liable.”

“But, but I haven’t lost another keyboard. This is the first time that’s ever happened and I’ve worked here for-” His mind grew blank as he tried to come up with a number of years. He knew that it was a fair amount, but at the moment he couldn’t figure out just how high that amount was. Was it six? Or three? How many days had he sat at his desk? Marion sucked in a breath, fighting the anxiety pooling in his stomach. “I’ve worked here for a long time without any sort of issue.” 

The boy looked up at him with a sneer painted across his face. “Well now you’re having issues and because of that I’m going to have to report you.” 

“Alright then.” Marion held his head high as he stormed out of the IT department, not knowing how he was going to continue with his work without a keyboard, but that seemed better than arguing with a child about simple things. All he was asking for was a keyboard. He had seen them on the shelves behind Mr. Blanke, lined up, laughing at him for his inability to obtain them. 

He practically stomped over to his desk, sitting down at his chair.

Sitting in front of him was his keyboard.

Anger coursed through his veins. 

Marion turned to the man at his right, “Did you take my keyboard earlier?”

There was far too much venom in his voice, so much so that the man next to him rolled his eyes. “Why would I take your keyboard? You think this is some television show where we all play dorky pranks on each other?” 

Surprise flashed across Marion’s face, the anger inside of him dissipating. “Of course not, it’s just…” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment and centering himself. “The past couple of days have been nothing but odd - with a whole host of strange things happening - and I couldn’t deal with another one at the moment.” 

The man continued to glare at him. “Maybe you should get yourself checked out. Ever think that maybe you’re the problem.” Marion looked at him, almost looking through him. Although the words coming out of the man’s voice were filled with emotions, the kind that stirred people up, there wasn’t any real malice behind them. 

It was almost like the man was a blank canvas, just being painted over. Marion looked over his shoulder, seeing if there was a placard or anything on his desk that would tell him who the man was. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The man’s desk held only his computer and keyboard. There were no knicknacks, no pictures of family members. Even Marion - who didn’t particularly enjoy bringing things to work - had a few pictures and a paperweight that his mum had bought him. 

He leaned back in his seat, looking to his other side at another employee’s desk. The woman sitting at it held a blank expression as well, staring off at the computer screen with her fingers typing in the same repetitive motion. Marion looked at her monitor - an endless string of ones and zeros looked back at him. 

His chest tightened once more as he returned to his work, rather, to his computer. There was an itch at the back of his mind, that something terrible was occurring. Closing out of the tab that held his office work, he opened a search browser, frantically typing in questions.

Why do my things keep disappearing? 

Meaning of 555

Seeing repeated objects meaning

Each time Marion typed something in, zero results would show up. The only thing he saw was a blank screen with text reading “No results found”. That - of course - made no sense. There was no way that he was the only person in the world who had experienced this before, who was asking themselves what was going on when their brain couldn’t come up with a good enough explanation. Marion felt as though he was going mad. 

He wasn’t about to give up though, for the next couple of minutes he must have typed in a dozen or so questions, each time his attention being pulled further and further into the screen. After the twentieth failure to find results, he huffed, leaning back in his chair and wiping his eyes. His back stretched nicely, as exhaustion took over his form. Blinking his eyes a few times he turned to his right - nobody was sitting there - he turned his head to the left - nobody was there.

Turning his head around, frantically spinning in his chair, he noticed that there was nobody there. The office room was bare. Marion stood from his seat, peeking over at the other cubicles. Each computer was powered off, and none of the seats had a soul sitting in them. The man felt as though he was going to be sick. He peered down at his computer, at the time he knew it would be glowing in the corner of the screen - and it was.

The only problem was that it was three hours past the time he was meant to leave. A glaring eight stared at him, taunting him with its horrible glow. Without another moment to think about it, Marion powered the computer off, the screen going black. 

Bile was rising in his throat, worse than any of the anxiety he had experienced before. The other things could be written off as circumstance, as a coworker playing tricks on him - the kinds of things that were completely mundane if they hadn’t all happened in a row. But this, this wasn’t. Somehow, a few simple minutes had turned into almost a handful of hours. Someone should have alerted him that they were closing soon. Marion hadn’t spotted the nightly clean-up crew, there hadn’t been the sound of vacuums or the rustling of bags. 

It was as though everyone had vanished in the blink of an eye.

Marion hurried home, burning holes into the ground as he refused to lift his head. It was supposed to be a normal day, everything was meant to be alright again.

Thursday, April 14 20–

The time has slipped from my hands - turning from molasses to pure water, though my day was anything but pure. Someone had tricked me, that must be what it is. How that person managed to get the entire building in on the joke is beyond me. Minutes turned into hours without my allowance. At first, I assumed it had to be the trickster, secretly telling everyone to leave and then reprogramming my computer to incorrectly state the time.

As I stepped outside into what should have been the late stretches of the afternoon, the dark abyss of the night greeted me. I do not know how the trickster from work pulled that off, but it must have been them.

I cannot allow myself to believe any different. 

If it is not a trickster that must mean the universe has turned against me. I do not know what higher being I could have angered - I am not the most memorable of figures - but I fear what else they could do to me. 

What have I done to deserve this? What sins have I committed which deserve this punishment? The world around me is not the same comfort as before. Tomorrow is another day, but that no longer seems promising.

Marion Tafford