The Funny Thing

"Fuck."

Samantha forgot again. She forgets every single year. She doesn't know why she can't just remember. But, every single year, she forgets about the anniversary.

Maybe he won't be upset this time. Maybe it'll be different this one year.

Even as Samantha tries to will herself into believing that Philip will be okay, she knows in the deepest parts of her soul that he won't be. Today is December 12, their 7th wedding anniversary. For the last 5 years, Samantha makes it to December 13 (with the one time of December 18, but it wasn't her fault. It wasn't.) before remembering that she's supposed to be celebrating. With him. Not after the fact as a memory, a belated I love you the following morning when her brain finally snaps into place. Samantha knows what a normal wife would do. But, Samantha has never been a normal wife.

Really, though, what is normal? Is it just what Philip wants? So I don't immediately wake up on December 12 and immediately want to throw myself into his arms. So I don't want to stop being who I am and instead fawn all over this man for the rest of my life.

She didn't mean that, I promise. Don't hold it against her.

She isn't heartless, but she doesn't understand what the big deal is, honestly. She said "I do!" to Philip in the white gown five years ago. She agreed to his proposal and let the ring gently slide onto her finger, the half carat diamond carrying the weight of every lie she ever told him. Samantha spent the first two years of the marriage playing the part of perfect wife. Outwardly, Samantha is the wife that every husband wants. Two years ago that wouldn't be the lie that it is now.

I don't understand where the lie is, though. I get it, truly. I know that I'm not the societal norm of a woman. Philip loves me and he is kind, caring even.

Samantha shivers, almost like her body rejects the thought. It's not that Philip isn't a caring husband. It's that Philip doesn't care about the things that mean anything to Samantha. Hurdling towards her late-twenties, Samantha doesn't want to sit. Samantha wants to go. Philip feels settled and complete.

Samantha is lost in this unfamiliar anxiety. She looks around and sees an ocean of overgrown green trees, haphazardly sprouting from the ground, making it impossible to see what lies beyond. It feels familiar in a way that momentarily sends a jolt down her spine. The other direction, she sees the rundown convenience store. Samantha remembers the first time she visited this gas station.

It was almost like he appeared out of nowhere. One minute I'm trying to decide between a Snickers and a Milky Way and the next I'm staring at the face of a handsome man who sees nothing in this world except for me.

She hears the familiar click. Another $80 gone to the oil companies to fill the tank of her rundown Honda Civic that she can't afford. This is why she can't remember the important stuff: the anniversaries, the birthdays, the promotions, the date nights, the holiday parties. Samantha is alawys thinking about what she wants to be doing, not what she is supposed to be doing.

What if I, just, run straight into the forest. The only scenario I see myself running is away from all of this noise. That will make all of this stop.

As the thought crosses through her mind, Samantha instantly freezes. An immediate and powerful gust of wind snaps through her and nearly knocks her off her feet. She feels as though time has stilled and with that stillness went her ability to move. As the wind slashes through the air, Samantha notices that the trees are completely calm, as if they are beckoning her, as if they are whispering a secret that only Samantha can hear. She takes a step forward towards the tree line. By the time she has crossed into the forest the wind has stopped and is replaced by an eerie silence.

Samantha notices a piece of fabric hanging from a nearby branch. It's small, but noticeable because of it's contrast to the leaves. A bright, vibrant red strip of fabric is dangling from a tree branch. She recognizes it almost instantly.

I've seen enough movies to know what comes next if I go look at it. I'm just going to walk back to the car and forget I ever saw this. I'll get in the car, I'll drive home, and I'll tell Philip that I love him.

Samantha exits the ominous woods. It's as if her mind instantly clears, but she's left feeling hazy, unfamiliar in her body. Suddenly she has an overwhelming sense of panic. Why did Samantha go to the gas station?

It's always Philip's job to put gas in the car. Samantha knows what women can come across by themselves at gas stations. Samantha sees herself as a capable woman who can take care of herself, but she also doesn't like to tempt fate with these sorts of superstitions. She takes one last look at the woods, still calling to her, and gets into her car. Samantha reaches for her phone. Just as she is about to grab it she pauses and wonders who it is she's supposed to be calling, as if all of her memories up until this point in time have vanished.

A muffled tapping comes from somewhere behind Samantha. It's a sound that she can't ignore becuase of the forboding feeling of dread it forces through her body. She realizes after a moment that the tapping is coming from inside of her trunk.

What is going on here? What is happening?

Before Samantha can open the door to check the trunk, she hears a key struggle to make contact with the car door lock barrel. Suddenly she hears an all too familiar voice, "Samantha, where are you?"

The funny thing is, Samantha breathes, I never left.