This Is Not Really Happening

Most of the girls were passed out in the living room. Lascivious Lisa insisted on watching “Buffy The Vampire Slayer,” which the VHS recorded while we were in full cleansing mode, but she was comatose on the couch with Tempting Tina. Catching Kate was snoring while Jaunty Jennifer was draped over the piano. The two recruits were somewhere else in the house, and Mom kicked out the boys who were sniffing around the Wanton Women. Heather and I were crammed together on a La-Z-boy, half watching the recorded season 2 premier.

“Ravishing,” Heather whispered.

“Yes, Heavenly,” I whispered back.

“Do you ever wonder if things you remember from childhood were, like…placed into your memory somehow?”

I didn’t respond immediately, because it was such a strange question. We were both rolling on ’shrooms, the rank smell of Mom’s tea was still thick throughout the house. I considered it for a moment, and then I remembered a movie Henry loved.

“Oh, like in Blade Runner where the replicant had memories implanted, and she didn’t even know she was a replicant?”

“Mmm, I hadn’t thought about it like that, but that’s cool, too.

No, I was thinking, like, what if everything, all of our memories were implanted? And everything around us was placed just so to jive with our memories?”

Whoah, That was an unsettling concept. Suddenly thoughts started to emerge. What if what I thought as myself wasn’t truly me? All I ever knew was this perspective, being Rhiannon. My thoughts turned to the idea that I was a third person character to someone else.

I looked up and saw Mom standing in front of us. She was holding two cups.

“Ladies, I think we’re almost ready,” she said earnestly.

Heather sat up. “Ready? For what?”

“A way through,” she replied. We each took a cup and drank. Even loaded with sweetener, even after all these years of imbibing it, I still hated the tea. The music emanating from the stereo now seemed to be coursing through my entire body, like I was becoming the song.

“Come,” Mom urged, tilting her head towards the hallway. Heather and I got up and followed her. It was always dark in there, filled with dusty books and figurines Mom collected. She stood at the end of the hallway.

“Do you see it?” Mom asked with hushed excitement.

At first I didn’t understand what she was referring to, but then I did see it. But…How come I’ve never seen it before?