Zed woke up in a back alley way in a pile of trash with an almost empty bottle of Jameson with blood on his sleeve. He is wearing torn black slacks that are painted gray with dirt and grime. His white dress shirt is torn and filthy. He runs his trembling hand through tangled and trash filled hair then tries to sit up. His face twists in pain as his chest and head throb. He coughs, causing the pain to increase. His head drops back onto a torn trash bag, as he gasps for breath through the pain.
Zed lifts the whiskey bottle to his lips and chugs it, hoping it will ease the pain. He licks his burning lips to find them split and severely chapped. He tastes blood as he swallows the little saliva in his mouth. “What happened?” Zed asks himself, as he stares at the tall buildings above him.
Zed slowly inhales the musty, mold filled air of the ally then forces himself upward. He grabs a hold of a nasty dumpster and heaves himself to his feet. He staggers and leans against a nearby wall to allow feeling back into his body. He stares at the ground and sees he is missing a shoe on his right foot. He holds onto the dumpster and scans the trash for his missing sneaker, his sister bought for his birthday. He carefully kicks a half eaten sandwich away then begins throwing trash bags, hoping to find his shoe.
Zed searches for fifteen minutes before giving up. He kicks his left shoe off and staggers down the alley toward a busy street. He reaches the opening to a large business district and freezes. A bicyclist rolls by while staring at Zed’s rugged appearance.
The street is packed full of vehicles and pedestrians stray far away from Zed as he staggers down the block. He doesn’t recognize a single building or person. “Exc-”
Zed tries to ask a passing man where he is, but he hurries away. Down the block, he sees a homeless tent with several bums begging for money. He hurries toward them and asks, “Where are we?”
“Ten bucks and I’ll tell you,” a man wearing torn jeans and a shirt that clearly hasn’t been washed in months growls.
“I don’t-” Zed searches his pockets, but comes up empty.
“Then get lost or I’ll cut you!” the man growls, lunging toward Zed.
The man swings his arm toward Zed while holding a sharp piece of glass. Zed retreats backwards and runs into a well-dressed woman, carrying a cup of coffee. The coffee spills down the front of the woman’s blouse and she screams. “Hey! Leave her alone!” a tall, muscular man yells.
The man charges Zed who flees. Zed jumps through traffic, as the street erupts in honks and yells. “Get back here, bum!” the man demands, fearlessly chasing Zed through the packed streets.
“I’m sorry!” Zed yells, his legs barely carrying his weak body.
Zed stops, and falls against the wall. His heart beats out of his chest while the ground spins rapidly below his feet. “There you are!” the man growls finally catching up with him.
“Please,” Zed holds his left hand in front of his face. “I’m not a bum, I did-”
The man grabs Zed by his shirt collar and lifts his frail body into the air. Something snaps, and without a thought, Zed punches the man. He twists his arm behind his back and kicks him away. The man slams his face into a pole and collapses onto the ground. “Hey!” another stranger says, grabbing Zed’s shoulder.
Zed bends the man’s hand back and snaps his wrist. The stranger screams and collapses to his knees in pain. Two more strangers come to the strangers’ aid, and Zed begins to panic. One stranger attempts to grab Zed while the other swings a punch.
Zed instinctively dodges the punch, causing his attacker to knock his aly out. “Hey! LAPD!” a female voice yells through the noisy street.
Zed spins and sees three officers approaching him. Terrified and confused, Zed flees. He sprints as fast as his legs can take him until a hand grabs his and drags him into a store. He attempts to attack his captor, but is strained by the well-dressed man in dark shades. Zed watches the officers run past then head butts the man quickly. He sprints out into the street, and turns down a side road.
Zed doesn’t see any more officers, but begins to notice suited strangers standing at every street corner. The men stare at him, and attempt to approach as he nears them. At the corner of Broadway, one grabs his hand, but Zed quickly punches the man in the throat and sprints away. “Leave me alone!” Zed screams, jumping in front of slow moving cars to get away.
Vehicles horns blare, but Zed sprints down the middle of the street. He glances back and sees a herd of suited strangers chasing him. In desperation, he leaps into a stopped bus and slumps into the back seat. “Los Angeles?” he thinks, his heart racing.
“No free rides!” the bus driver yells, staring at Zed in the rearview.
Zed is in tears of pain and slumps forward in his seat. A nearby stranger scoots next to him and says, “I’ll pay for him!”
The bus driver nods and closes the door as the suited men reach the bus. The bus drives away and the sweet, elderly lady with a large red purse, asks, “Where are you heading?”
Zed huffs, sobbing. “I do-”
“Breath,” she kindly says, rubbing his sweat soaked back.
The older lady waits patiently until Zed calms down. “I don’t know, I’m supposed to be in Texas,” he gasps.
“How did you get here?” she asks, handing him a small bottle of watter.
Zed shrugs, not remembering anything. He twists the bottle with his shaky fingertips and finishes it with one gulp. “I-I-”
“Doris, this is your stop!” the bus driver yells.
The sweet stranger nods and stands up. “Come on,” she motions and Zed nervously follows.
Doris hands the bus driver a five dollar bill, and leads Zed off the bus. Tehy walk into a small gated building and into a small apartment. “Shower’s in there, Zed,” she points.
Zed’s eyes widen and he doesn’t move. “Wh-” he pauses. “Ho-”
Zed turns toward the door as Doris peeks out the window. “There are eight men outside,” she tells him. “I suggest you shower while I make dinner.”
Zed’s hand is on the door knob. His young mind struggles to make a decision. He doesn’t trust Doris, but he trusts the men less. He releases his grip and walks into the bathroom. He stares at his reflection in the mirror for several long minutes. Examining the scar across his lips that he doesn’t remember having, and the deep sleep deprivation bags under his eyes. He grips the side of the bathroom sink and struggles to find a memory. A memory that would tell him why he is here, and how he got here. The last thing Zed remembers is partying with his friends at a local pub for his twenty first birthday. There is a soft knock on the bathroom door, and Doris’s sweet voice says, “Dinner will be ready in five.”
Zed nods, and strips his filthy clothes off. He steps into the shower and scrubs every inch of his body until dirt stops pouring down the drain. When he steps out of the shower, a fresh pair of slacks and a dress shirt are waiting. He slips on the pants then hesitantly exits the bathroom, his shirt open. “Eat,” Doris demands, but Zed refuses.
He shakes his head and watches Doris walk back and forth from the kitchen. “Who are you?” he asks, buttoning his shirt.
“I’m going to get you home,” she says. “Now eat!”
Zed shakes his head and approaches the window. The eight men have grown to thirty, but none break the barrier of the gate. “Wh-”
“I said Eat!” Doris demands, annoyed.
“Not unti-”
“Doris slams her fork down and glares at him. “When I say eat, you eat!” she screams.
Without a thought, Zed sits down and begins to eat. He tries to fight the food, but his body refuses to stop eating until the plate is empty. “How-” he asks, finally in control.
“You’re a victim of Control, don’t worry it will all be over soon,” she explains.
Doris’s words begin to spin as Zed becomes sleepy. He fights to stay conscious, but it’s useless. “Sleep!” Doris demands and Zed’s head drops onto the table.
###
When Zed wakes up, he is laying in a bed. He lifts his arms and sees a familiar blanket covering his body. The room is covered in posters of astronauts and famous businessmen. He sits up, slowly, his body still extremely sore. He scans his bedroom and sighs. “It must have been a bad dream,” he thinks, forcing himself to his feet.
Zed examines his body and sees he is in the same business attire Doris gave him. He shrugs it off nervously, and wanders out of his room. He walks into the kitchen to find his dad embracing his sobbing mom. His mom looks at him then digs her face into her husband’s chest. Alex, his older brother, grabs his arm and drags him down the hall. Zed tries to get away, but his instincts from the day before are gone. “Where the hell have you been?” Alex demands, after shoving Zed into his room.
“I-I-”
“You disappear for four years, then think you can just show up?” his brother snaps.
Zed’s mouth drops open. “Four years?” he mumbles.
“What drugs make you lose your memory?” Alex asks, pointing at Zed’s frail appearance.
Zed’s brain is frozen. He doesn’t know how to respond. “You better have a damn good reason!” Alex demands before storming out of the room.
Zed slumps onto his bed. “How can four years have passed?” he asks. “Just last night he was partying with his friends.”
He remembers college graduation, and his twenty first birthday. “What happened?” he asks himself. “Why can’t I remember?”
Zed stares at the flood, overwhelmed with confusion. “Control,” he remembers Doris mentioning. “Was it a dream?”
Tears drip down Zed’s face, as he attempts to remember anything that would uncover the last four years.