I woke up in my home, a quaint farmhouse nestled in the hillside. It had a single bedroom, a bathroom, and a small kitchen. It wasn’t much, but it was mine.

I began to make myself breakfast. In about 20 min

I heard a commotion in the pig pen and went to check. When I walked out the door, I found myself in the middle of a large city. No one even noticed I was there. They rushed past me continuing on with their lives. I asked in the nearest store where I was.

I found out I had been taken here just like everyone else had. They had similar experiences of hearing a loud sound and walking though a door only to be teleported here with a key with an apartment number and address in their pocket. People who’ve been here much longer than me have nicknamed it ‘the second big apple’ as it resembles New York.

People rushing through the streets ready to be home. Children ran home from school in their formerly pristine outfits that were slightly wrinkled from the day’s events. I stood amidst the chaos of the bustling city and wondered when it became so normal. It had only been a month but it felt like home. Suddenly, I crashed to the ground and looked around in confusion. Then I saw them. The people who brought us here.