The Night I Quit Running

I was supposed to be studying for SATs, but instead I was working the Friday night shift at Terror Valley — this cheesy zombie-themed escape room where middle schoolers screamed at animatronic corpses that moved like they were powered by 2012 technology. My boss, Gary, was a total nightmare. A forty-something guy who lived with his mom and still said things weren't "the vibe" unironically.

"You're not selling the fear, Maya," Gary said, leaning too close in his haunted house manager uniform. He smelled like Red Bull and desperation. "You gotta really sell it. These kids paid good money."

I'd been working here for three months, running from the conversation I needed to have with my parents about how I didn't want to be a doctor. I just wanted to draw. Sketch characters that actually looked human, not like the pathetic plastic zombies flopping around me.

The real bullsh*t wasn't the zombies. It was Gary himself, constantly promising to promote me to morning shift manager but never delivering. It was the way my immigrant parents nodded and smiled when I told them I was pre-med, not knowing I'd changed my major to Illustration three weeks ago.

That night, something in me just — snapped.

This group of freshmen came in, all jittery energy and braces. One girl kept saying this was the scariest thing she'd ever done. I looked at her, really looked at her, and realized I used to be that scared of everything. Scared of disappointing people. Scared of being myself.

"You know what?" I said, stepping out of character. "This place isn't scary. It's just sad."

Gary's face went all twisty. "What are you doing?"

"I'm done running from stuff," I said, and I walked out.

The night air hit my face like freedom. I pulled out my phone and called my mom.

"Maa, I need to tell you something." My voice shook. "I'm not pre-med anymore. I'm an art major. And I quit my job."

Silence. Then: "Finally. Your father said you would figure it out. We were waiting."

I stood there under the streetlight, laughing-crying. I'd been so scared of everything that I'd forgotten to actually live.

Next day, I submitted my portfolio to this indie game studio. They hired me as a character designer. My first assignment? Making zombies that actually looked cool.

Sometimes you have to stop running from yourself to finally find out where you're going.