Fear Games

1. Kidnapping Christmas

CALIX

"So that's how I ended up here in Nevada," my date Aaron said while we sat together at dinner in the fanciest restaurant in town. He was a sweet guy, I guess, but there was something about him that was rubbing me the wrong way. Maybe it was the fact that he resembled a slightly older Jeffrey Dahmer, with straggly blonde hair and round glasses that sat at the very tip of his nose. This was like the fifth date I'd been on this week, so I wasn't feeling optimistic that it would work out. For some reason I was just having a hard time connecting with any man that lived in this area.

"That's super interesting," I said while I took a sip of my Diet Coke, hoping that he wouldn't realize that I hadn't heard a word that he said. I was just not feeling this at all, and all I wanted was to go home. I'd driven myself here, mostly because there was no way I would ever get into a stranger's car—not after everything that happened with the Fear Games a couple of years ago. I was still dealing with Post Traumatic Stress from that whole experience, and this creepy ass date wasn't making things easier for me.

He was sweet, but sweet wasn't enough when he was practically a double for a gay serial killer.

"Yeah, it is," Aaron continued, digging into his salmon that he ordered. "You said before that you haven't always lived in Nevada. What brought you here?"

"Well, I was born here," I said, clutching my glass of water nervously. "I spent some time in South Carolina, which was nice in some ways, but most of the people there are still super homophobic. Some things never change, even with time, I suppose." I anxiously took a gulp of my ice cold water, which was something that I'd started doing any time I got nervous. It was a habit that I hadn't bothered learning how to quit.

"South Carolina sounds like such a drag," Aaron said. "Don't you think by now they'd know that gay people deserve to exist peacefully? It's not like we're all crazy or anything."

I wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that comment, but just like this whole entire conversation, it felt wrong. I took a sip of my water and slammed it onto the table, hoping he wouldn't notice how quickly my anxiety was taking over. I hadn't told him about how I was a Fear Games survivor—that wasn't something I typically shared on the first date—but if he had Googled me, he would have seen me online in the news. If he did know I was a Fear Games survivor, he hadn't brought up the topic, and for that I was forever grateful.

Even in the dim lighting of the room, I was feeling overstimulated. I didn't want to be an asshole and just up and leave, however I was feeling uneasy and didn't know how exactly to explain it to Aaron in a way that would make sense. So, in my head I started to plan my escape, and all I could hope was that the bathrooms had windows that were able to be climbed through.

"Hey, um, I need to use the restroom," I said, jumping up from my seat quickly.

"Will you be back?" Aaron asked.

It was a strange question, especially since I hadn't given any indication that I was planning on leaving—even though I definitely was. I simply nodded and said, "Yes." My stomach churned at the thought of lying to this poor guy. I had no doubt in my mind that he was truly sweet and kind deep down, but I just couldn't get beyond my own anxiety. How was I supposed to explain to him what I was feeling? I barely even talked to my own family—who had also gone through the Fear Games—about what I was dealing with. There was no way that I could just spill to someone who was practically a stranger.

It took me a moment to find the restroom, but when I did, I went inside and found that even though it was not a single toilet, there was still a lock on the door. I clicked it behind me and walked past the six stalls and four urinals to the window located on the far wall. It was small, but I was a fairly skinny guy. It was just a matter of being able to climb up that high. I unlatched the window, pushed it open, then hoisted myself up, using as much of my willpower as I had, and rolled through the window into a bush outside. Thankfully, it wasn't full of thorns or anything and I got out with just a few scratches from the branches. When I composed myself, I started to walk toward my car, looking back and wondering just how Aaron was going to feel that I'd completely ditched him. A huge wave of guilt washed over me, however, I tried to remember that I needed to take care of myself first and foremost before taking care of someone else.