I think my girlfriend Emily had been using some kind of hypnosis, mind-control spell on me for weeks before we even noticed. She started to suspect that something wasn't right when she made an off-handed comment one night before she went to bed. We were watching a movie on the couch and she decided she was too tired to finish it so she was just going to go to bed. Before she got up, she asked if I would straighten up the living room when I got a chance. She meant sometime over the next few days. There was no specific rush. Under normal circumstances, I would have taken it that way, but this night I didn't.
After she kissed me goodnight and went to bed, I started having a really difficult time paying attention to the movie. I kept zoning out. The room did seem messy. There was so much clutter. How did we live like this? I started noticing everything that needed to be wiped down or scrubbed. I saw dust on every surface. In my head, Emily's request that I pick up a little bit of clutter had ballooned in importance and intensity. Our filthy living room needed a deep clean and it needed it right that moment.
Emily found me hours later in a trance trying to rearrange the furniture in the room. I had eradicated every speck of dust, meticulously organized every object in the room, and scrubbed the walls.
"Devon, what the fuck are you doing? It's 3 AM," Emily asked, wiping sleep from her eyes.
I snapped out of my daze. For the first time in hours I was aware of what I was doing. "I was, uh, cleaning up the living room, like you asked me to."
Emily looked deeply confused. "I meant, like, tomorrow or something and I just needed you to straighten up a bit."
"Oh."
Emily came over to me and put a hand on my back and led me out of the room. "Why don't you go to bed and get some rest?"
I nodded and did exactly what she said.
The next morning I found her waiting for me at the kitchen table sipping from a coffee mug. She looked absolutely stunning, lit by the sunshine. Something about her lately was driving me crazy. Of course, she had always been gorgeous, but lately every time she walked in the room I felt like I took a gut punch. I often found myself thinking about her wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. I kept catching myself daydreaming about her eyes and her smile.
When I walked into the kitchen Emily was studying me, like she was trying to solve a puzzle.
"Devon, please sit down."
I sat down in the chair next to her. She smiled, but it seemed strained. "How do you feel, Baby?"
"Um, I guess I feel fine. I slept ok."
"That's good," she said, but she didn't sound totally convinced. "Can you grab me a glass from the cabinet?"
I stood up and walked across the kitchen and grabbed a glass for her. "Hey, Babe, sorry about last night. I have no idea what got into me."
"Oh, that's fine," she said, "Dev, can you put that glass in the dishwasher for me?"
I stopped in my tracks and opened the dishwasher. A cloud of steam billowed out. It had just finished a cycle. I put the glass on the top rack.
"And can you take your shirt off and have a seat right there, Baby?" she asked. I pulled my shirt over my head and sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor. Emily's expression was weird. She looked like she was upset about something.
"Everything ok, Em?" I asked her.
"Um, I'm not sure yet."
Emily stood and walked over to the fridge. I watched her pull out milk, orange juice, mustard, and a jar of pickles. She went over to the dishwasher and pulled out the glass I had just put in there. Next she poured the milk and orange juice into the glass. I made a face, not sure what she was doing with this weird concoction. She carefully poured out a little pickle juice into the glass and then a squeeze of the mustard. She stirred it with a spoon and handed it to me. I looked up at her, trying to figure out what she meant by all this.
"Are you feeling ok, Em?" I asked.
"Drink that for me, Devon." I had no idea why, but I found myself tilting the vile mixture up to my lips and taking deep gulps of it. I immediately started gagging, but kept trying to force it down.
"OK! You can stop!" Emily said. She took the glass from me and dumped it down the sink like she couldn't get rid of it fast enough. "I am so sorry, Devon, but I had to know."
"Had to know what?" I asked her, wiping the awful drink off my lips.
"Please come sit down." I went and sat with her at the kitchen table. She reached out and grabbed my hands. "I have no idea how to say this, Baby. It sounds crazy, but I think I've accidentally hypnotized you or something."
I laughed. It seemed like a joke, but she looked so serious. "What are you talking about, Em?"
"You keep doing everything I say."
"Well, yeah, obviously I love you and I want to make you happy."
She shook her head, "Devon, this is way more than that. You never question it! You just do whatever I tell you to do."
"Come on," I laughed, "That's nuts."
"Why did you drink that nasty drink I poured for you?"