Awakening

Part One

Something flashes in the corner of my eye, as I turn my gaze I catch a fleeting glimpse of a long passed memory, slipping from the outermost edge of my subconscious, yearning to break free into the realm of thought. Vague shapes and shadows dance on the wall as I stare, ruminating for a thread of familiarity, my mind twists, trying desperately to draw out the hidden memory locked within. The dainty aroma of a fine perfume caresses my nostrils, my eyelids grow heavy; they lower as faint sounds tickle my eardrums into activity. The world around me swirls into a pit of darkness and becomes distant; the body is there, but the mind dances through the global circuits of consciousness.

Bodiless, my mind flies through the open plane of human consciousness, feeling my way along the highways of thought and emotion. A metamorphoses, much like the dimwitted caterpillar becomes the elegant butterfly, I am aware of things. For the first time in my life I am aware that there is more to existence then the wretched confines of the physical world. I feel myself being bathed in the emotional warmth of the infinite plane, my mind pulses with excitement. Shifting realities wrench and bring me to a level that I recognize, stars and blackness surrounds me. The vast universe stretches before me like a grand buffet, where to start? So much to try, so much to see, to taste, to smell, to hear, to touch, it 's overwhelming! Yet I feel a serene sense of calmness, the perspective of my mind wraps itself around the concepts of ethereal life.

I become aware of direction, distance and speed, though in comparison to the infinitesimal void, these concepts have little weight. In an instant there is a presence, someone calling out to me. The presence dissipates, I can't feel it anymore. I feel cold and alone, so distant from everything. The universe fades out of existence as a wave of emotional loneliness washes over my mind, it is dark now. Time slows, fizzles and stops, but what is time if not a measurement of conscious existence? There is nothing, I am alone in the void.

A blurry white cloud of dust approaches me, at least I perceive it to be approaching. In the void, direction has no meaning, time has no meaning, there is only the void, the cloud, and me. The cloud sharpens and takes shape, blurry images dance and contort, what does it say? I strain my mind and try to focus on the cloud, thinking, reaching, stretching my curiosity towards it within the void. I can almost make out the form, the shapes almost begin to carry meaning. Focusing harder, my thoughts race through the confines of my mind, and the cloud suddenly materializes into the most simplistic of commands: “Don't Think”.

A massive grumbling and suddenly I lurch back to consciousness, the familiar confines of my apartment surround me: home. What had just happened? A faint tint of dark blue light gives my apartment a gloomy appearance, is it the evening? The room gives no reply. I notice that my large, oak grandfather clock seems to think that it is 7PM, the wrist watch on my coffee table is more than happy to agree, in spite of my perceptions. Impossible! I had just gotten out of bed less than ten minutes ago! A cup of cold coffee on the table appears to further defy my perception of time. Did I fall asleep on the couch? Did I dream my whole day away? It wouldn't be the first time that I'd slouched about all day, but what of dreaming? I can't seem to recall anything! My mind feels like a blank slate, unthinking, rested.

I rub my eyes trying to make sense of the lost time. A nagging sensation grips my being, the addiction, the habit. Fiddling about for a match, I light up a cigarette and take a long drag. A deep breath and the smoke burns my throat. The warm, relaxing burn takes my mind away from the mystery of the day, inching my consciousness back to reality. The answering machine light is blinking, if I was sleeping on the couch all day why didn't I hear the phone?

Taking another drag of my cigarette, I thumb the button to playback the messages. The mechanized voice of the machine barks out the time stamp on the first message, 9:21 AM. “Hey Erik,” I recognize the voice on the message instantly, it belongs to a coworker of mine named Melinae, “it's me, Mel. Well, you haven't shown up for work yet, did you party too hard, again, last night? I think the old man's getting a little pissed so I just thought I'd give you a heads up if you're even planning on showing up today. See ya later. BEEP”

****, the 'old man' in reference is none other than my boss! Another drag from the cigarette calms my nerves; I can always find another job if need be. How considerate of Melinae to think of me like that. She's pretty cute too as a matter of fact, the kind of girl that probably has some secret sexual fetish but acts completely normal on the surface. Bondage perhaps, she reminds me of a catholic school girl. I'll have to remember to thank her tomorrow at work, assuming that I haven't been fired yet. The answering machine's soulless voice sparks to life again, the next message was received at 12:48 PM: “Erik? This is Mr. Andrew Miller calling.” Double ****; the boss! “Erik, I've decided that your services to our organization are no longer required. You can come in and pick up your last paycheck on Friday. Good luck in your future endeavors. BEEP”

No big deal, it's not the first time I'd been fired, and it probably won't be the last. Regardless, the mystery of the lost time was still ebbing in the back of my thoughts. I returned to the couch a butted out my smoldering cigarette in the ashtray. I sighed, thinking, wondering, am I going insane? Bah, you are either insane or not insane, there's no 'road to insanity'. Where had the time gone?

A pain numbs my temples the instant I realize that there remained one message on the answering machine. I rub my face, vigorously trying to remove the tingling pain from my temples, as I approach the answering machine to divulge the contents of the last message. I wonder why it didn't play through when I was listening to the other messages. Ominously the red light blinks, the apartment is completely dark now, the last few rays of sunlight having slipped beneath the horizon. Time evidently stands still as I approach the machine, before I can press the button to play the message the machine once more sparks to life: 'Message received at 6:55 PM'. The room grows silent, the city outside my window appears to be draped in a blanket of darkness and silence. I feel a presence in the room, a somehow familiar presence, my mind twists and contorts itself trying vainly to understand what's happening, and then a voice:

“Don't Think.”

The room begins to spin as the throbbing at my temples becomes unbearably painful, I cry out in terror and agony as I collapse into a heap. Consciousness slipping from my grasp and I go numb...

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