You don’t remember when it actually happened. Time had long ceased being a discrete measurement. The endless cycle of light and dark had lost meaning. To begin with the passing of people by you was enough to occupy your thoughts, the relationships both casual and assured taking place in front of you but unable to touch, built a narrative to this existence.

You can remember what caused it though.

The crushing loneliness.

The fading into the background, of becoming a secondary character in your own life. It started subtly as most things do. In real life someone does not approach you proclaiming that you are the one, the chosen one, that you alone can save the world. No, you dig your own little rut in life and grind through trying to ascribe your own meaning as to why you get out of bed every morning.

You never found that. You are not sure you even searched.

You finished school because that was what people did, you got a job as rent and food and bills will not wait because you want them to. Your job is not who you however it became the flavour of your life, infecting everything else with its demands.

People say you will not keep the friends you made in school as life moves on. This is true.

No one told you how much it would hurt though. Your colleagues you dutifully hang out with on a Friday night are not your friends nor the barista you say hello to and inquire about their day.

Life, they say, is what happens to you while you are making other plans. But what happens if you have no plans? They never taught that in school, your parents barely taught you how to be a functioning person let alone be let loose into this wild unknown that is adulthood.

Walking through the local park every day was a way to stretch your legs and stay in a semblance of what you somehow thought of as shape. More than not though you watched other people living their lives. You watched, wondering if they had these thoughts and approached their existence with the same void as you did.

Until that day.

You stopped and watched a couple share an intimate moment that made you feel like you were intruding on their happiness. Other people gave them a smile of shared memory, of recalling their own moments and passed by. Energized as if they were inspired by what they saw.

No one glanced at you. You could feel yourself slowly fading away, of becoming disconnected from reality.

Then it happened. There was no bang, no explosion or sound and light depicting this change. That is not how your life worked. You just had enough of this moment, of this place and it was time to move on.

Except you couldn’t.

You were rooted to the spot. Leaning against the tree behind you, your face in a mask but with your eyes still able to see what was happening in front of you. You strained and tried to move anything.

Your fingers, your mouth, your eyes.

Nothing.

The panic set in.

This could not be happening. For so long you had been moving through this life and now for this to happen, this was insane. The panic gripped your heart and it was then you realised that it too was not moving. The comforting thrum-thrum beat was no longer there, the soft motion of inhalation and exhalation which was part of being human was gone.

You had a mouth but you could not scream.

The first few minutes when the panic hit you still struggled to breathe, to make some sort of motion to convince yourself you were still alive.

Nothing.

The minutes ground into hours and then slowly the hours into days. You tried to get people’s attention but all they saw was a life like statue, a work of art that they argued over who had placed it there. Who the artist was or who had commissioned it. What was the reason for the unnamed statue of an unknown person?

Some people would focus on your eyes and stare into them remarking how lifelike they were, never guessing that you were behind them screaming to be heard.

The days continued to grind into weeks, months and you are not sure but maybe even years. You used to think surely someone must have noticed your absence. But as you ran through the list, who would care? Your job would be replaced, the barista might have a passing thought of you not showing up for your latte two sugars, your landlord would be annoyed at having to re-lease your apartment. That was it though. There would be no loved one desperately searching for you. The world moved on, uncaring.

Finally you brought your senses back into the present, no longer floating on the idleness of empty thought. You don’t know what had brought you back, the sun was setting and the clouds had shifted in. The park was emptying of its usual groups. The late runners, the dog walkers and it would soon be home to the kids sneaking out with alcohol and weed thinking they were escaping their parents.

“Good night Holly, same time tomorrow then.” The words drifted through your head although you have no idea where they came from. You tried to watch this time, you really did as the day turned into night and the stars lit the sky. The moon peeking out past the scudding clouds above you. They threatened rain but you knew they had no intention in carrying out on their demands.

You watched as the sun shyly slunk out from the hills and started to burn the clouds away. The early morning fitness people were out in force and you watched them again no longer with the hatred or jealousy you once did. The lunchtime office workers then arrived to escape the grey and silver wasteland of their jobs to this little corner of green and blue.

One of them trundled through the grounds in a meandering gait towards you. Their unironed clothes and rumpled appearance at odds with the tailored smoothness of the other office workers around them. They took out a book and a boxed lunch at your feet and sat down. Patting you on the leg as they pulled out a set of headphones and quietly said “Hey Holly. Glad today decided to turn out nice!”

You tried to watch them as they sat at your feet, pecked at their food and consumed their book. You couldn’t see what they were reading but time seemed to slow down as you watched. You wanted to ask what they were reading. You wanted to ask why they came to talk to a statue.

You wanted them to know that your name was not Holly.

Finally they collected their belongings, removed their headphones and stood up. Looking you in the eyes as they said “Cya tonight Holly! Watch my space okay?” and left.

That afternoon dragged by as it had not done since the beginning of your imprisonment as you kept waiting for the day to turn into tonight as they had said. You had not looked forward to something for so long. Even before you were imprisoned. You spotted them as they approached, the same rumpled look but even more weary.

“Thanks, I hope your day was better than mine.” They muttered as they sat down at your feet again and pulled out the same slightly tattered book as before. Watching as the evening started to advance in and the night began to make motion towards taking over duty from the day the person at your feet read until you were sure it was not possible to see any more. Standing up to look you in the eyes again they repeated softly as the dog walkers were still around “Good night Holly, Same time tomorrow then.” and walked off.

Watching them leave you felt something lurch inside you. Like something had moved. It had been so long that the idea itself terrified you. Who was this person? Why were they calling you Holly? The night came on and drowned the park in darkness. The sky completely hidden behind the clouds which had decided to finally make good on their threats from before.

Spending all night hoping for the rain to ease, to clear up in the chance that your visitor might return, the morning dawned clear and blue, the clouds all spent of their sullenness. You felt jittery and nervous as the fitness people went through their morning motions and the day dragged on. The office drones finally started to filter into the park and you stared, stared, hoping for a glimpse of your visitor.

There they were. Their suit the same as the day before only having changed their shirt to another creased effort. They walked right up to you and started to arrange themselves before saying “Hey Holly, must have been a rough one last night. I was beginning to worry I wouldn’t get out today with the rain.” He looked around and continued “Good to see it allowed me to get out of there again.” and they sat down to read.

The stirring from deep within you continued. You were not sure how you had missed it before but there was something there. A churning inside. You watched them with a yearning as they finished up their book and sighed. Standing before you again and looking at you “Hrmm, good book but the ending sucked. Well, cya tonight Holly!” and they turned to leave.

No. Not again. You couldn’t face this again. You had to do something. They couldn’t leave.

With the feeling of something breaking you heard it. It was only because of the stiffening of their back and the person in front of you turning around that you realised the voice had been yours.

“My name is Alison….”