Alison has never noticed that every person in her apartment building is a stunning young woman. She’s never been bothered that they all seem to spend as much time in the gym as she does. She’s happy that their meals are all delivered by the same service: all her friends eat just as healthy as she does.
Alison has never noticed that she doesn’t have a job. She doesn’t wonder why no one she knows has a boyfriend. She doesn’t think about her parents, or remember any friends outside the building. She doesn’t remember a life before her apartment: if she knew to ask, she’d find none of her friends do.
Alison doesn’t remember much of what happens during the day. She spends it looking at The Spiral. On the workout machines. On the cell phone she never makes a call on. On the TVs in every room of her apartment. She doesn’t find it strange when the screens in the halls start showing The Spiral and all the girls just stop and stare.
Alison’s cell phone rings sometimes. It plays a lullaby that makes her so sleepy. When Alison gets sleepy, she starts walking toward the lobby. It makes all the girls happy when they see one of their neighbors sleepwalking toward the front door: none of them know why. They don’t give a second thought to the nice gentlemen who meet the sleepy girls in the lobby and help them into the cars for delivery. They never remember the girls who don’t come back.
Alison doesn’t think about clothes: she hasn’t worn them since she came to live in her apartment. None of the nice men she fucks seem to mind. The girls never talk about the nice men they fuck: the spiral tells them not to. Alison is going to have such nice dreams as the car takes her to fuck another nice man. But she’ll be staying with this one: he’ll own her now.
The other girls will forget Alison now, but if they remembered, they’d be happy that she’s found a Master.