Human beings are unpredictable creatures. Habits and expectations do not dictate behavior. Such is the benefit of consciousness and self-awareness. The soul.
And sometimes, it is not unheard of for 'perfect' people to let loose.
And sometimes, letting loose can go a long way.
Annie Barlow graduated with honors from Hartland University in May 2006. As she walked toward the stage to get her degree, she thought about what a long road she'd taken to get here.
Graduating with a 4.0 is no small feat. It takes quite a lot of dedication to achieve. Though Annie had seen some downtime in the last four years, there were many long nights of hard work in-between. On top of that, she'd been a member of several organizations. A quintessential college student, Annie was about to bring a solid resume into the working world.
"Anastasia Tabitha Barlow, Magna Cum Laude!"
At the announcement of her name, she ascended the auditorium stage. Her red hair draped from the sides of her black graduation cap. The front end of it didn't do enough to conceal the freckles blanketing her face.
Last night, her excitement over the occasion left her restless. As she shook hands with the Dean and President, the effects struck her. Sleep was going to be a long time coming, though.
She followed the line back to her folding chair. Whatever excitement left within her faded out, a troubling memory eclipsing it.
"You're supposed to be my girlfriend, Annie. I don't have a girlfriend. I have a ghost."
Three weeks ago, her ex spoke those words to her over the phone. Now bleak depression accompanied her exhaustion. Whose fault had it been? Was it worth it?
After the ceremony, there were pictures. Lots and lots of pictures. Pictures in the gym. Pictures in the parking lot. Pictures in the car on the way home. Pictures back at the house. Every click of the camera added weight to her eyes.
Then Annie's parents threw a get-together for her. The house swarmed with family members. The camera clicked and flashed for every possible combination. Somewhere in the middle of it, Annie slipped away to make coffee, which made her jittery
and
tired.
There were gifts, food, and more pictures. Then, one by one, people left. The noise died until the house went quiet.
To Annie, it all blurred together. When she went to her room that night, she dropped into the bed without changing clothes. Sleep took her in an instant.
#
Now, what happened next is something Annie Barlow can't explain. Nor was anyone able to clarify it for her since she kept it a secret.
She wondered later if the whole thing had been a dream. That would have made sense if the evidence she found hadn't told her otherwise.
Annie woke up in the darkness of her room. She didn't know how many hours had passed, only that she had the energy of a full night's sleep. She tossed and turned a bit, trying to pass out again until dawn. It soon became apparent she was fighting a losing battle, so she got up.
She changed clothes in the dark, throwing on a simple bra, t-shirt, and jeans. She reached for her jacket but decided she didn't need it. The temperature was already heating up in the prelude to summer.
Temperature? Yes, that meant Annie was leaving the house. The idea of where, however, remained a mystery. Years later, she compared her actions to mind control, or a puppet on a string. An invisible force led her out of the house.
Outside, Annie locked the door. Then she climbed into her trustworthy '99 Buick Century and started the engine. The radio jumped to life with the tail-end of a Nickelback song. She pulled out of the driveway.
I want to do something stupid,
she thought.
The houses of her familiar neighborhood scrolled by her windows. Every yard had some sign in it of the approaching season: inflatable pools, flowers blossoming on the well-manicured bushes. Some neighbors had left their push mowers out instead of locking them up. Even in the dead of night, they felt safe enough not to secure their belongings before they went to bed.
Annie headed southeast, taking a road that led away from the Archton town limits. The radio's digital readout told her it was 2:27 AM.
Now that the idea of doing something stupid occurred to her, she was committed to the act of stupidity. But what options were there for being stupid this early in the morning? This was a small, conservative burg. Unless she was willing to drive into the next county, she wouldn't find any all-night clubs or open bars.
Annie left the neighborhood. The houses began to spread out, becoming less clustered together. She turned down a few familiar roads, and then she veered off onto unfamiliar ones. Rural emptiness and overgrowth pushed away the houses.
Then they were gone altogether. Trees replaced them, appearing at random, wide intervals before closing in on in the car. Soon Annie drove down a corridor of trees that formed a wall on either side.
It was at that point Annie realized she wasn't sure where she was, nor how to get back. This was before cellphones or cars had built in GPS systems. Since Annie did not have a mounted navigation system in here either, she began to worry. Perhaps "doing something stupid" would be limited to getting lost in the dead of night. Hopefully, she wouldn't pay for that on the wrong end of a gun or knife.
But as slight anxiety blossomed into cold fear, the corridor widened again. Through her windshield, a replay of her journey went in reverse. The trees disappeared. The middle-of-nowhere wasteland dissipated as the houses came back. Soon she was moving through a neighborhood again, one comparable to her own. Annie still wasn't sure where she was. Being surrounded by houses again put her at ease, however.
It was here she wondered if she ought to turn around and try to find her way back home. She'd had her fun with this midnight drive, but now it was time to return to reality.
No,
she thought.
I've been dealing with 'reality' for eight years. Four years of reality for an acceptance letter. Another four to secure a career. I'm tired of reality. Reality sucks.
Thus, instead of making a U-turn and returning home, she kept driving. That was when a house drifted by the car's passenger side. Though Annie didn't catch a full glimpse of it, her peripheral vision spotted a fleet of cars parked in the yard. Faint music thumped.
Papa Roach replaced Fall Out Boy on the radio. More houses passed the Buick.
Meanwhile, Annie's mind ran background calculations. Cars. Lots of cars. Music, loud, but under control.
Party?
A party.
Annie drifted from the present and time-traveled to the past. She remembered roommates stumbling back into the room, either already drunk or talking of future gatherings. Drinking the night away excited even her study groups, bland as they were from the outset.
But not Annie. She studied and earned clout with her student organizations. There were no parties for her, just endless commitment to preparing for the future.
The neighborhood ended in an abrupt cul-de-sac. There was no need for a mental debate about any U-turn; fate decided that for her. She guided the Buick around the circle and drove on the other side of the street.
The houses went by again. Except this time, instead of passing the party, Annie applied the brake.
Now that Annie had a better view, she could see that it was, indeed, a party. It couldn't be anything else. Six cars of varying kinds were parked in front of the one-story structure. Annie eased her car into an available space between them.
She still wasn't sure what she was doing when she got out. This whole situation had a surreal, dreamlike aspect to it. It was strange that she was here, at a house she'd never visited, in a neighborhood she'd never entered.
Even stranger was that she was ascending four steps to a porch that ran the whole length of the house's front.
You'd better stop. Whoever owns this place will know you don't belong here, and they're gonna call the police.
The sensible thing would've been to listen to her thoughts, turn around, go back the other way, and hope it wasn't too late. But Annie was not in a mood to be sensible, a fact made evident when she walked right through the front door.
Parties, in Annie's mind, were a mystery idealized in sex comedies she'd watched. She expected to see twenty people drunk, high, dancing, or making out. Instead, she entered a big, furnished living room that was void of anyone. The music was louder on this side of the door, but it wasn't deafening.
