2010-07-15 16:34:11 ET
There's something in my mind struggling to get out. I've tried imprisoning it with walls of thought and reason and, finally, fear. Still I can feel it moving inside. Growing.
I cannot sleep anymore. I wander the dark alleys at night following the echo of my own footsteps. The streets are always deserted and, always, there is a slight rain that is my only companion.
It hasn't always been like this. But what has ever been the same throughout the ages? Still, it's something altogether... different. I can feel it. Gnawing. Away. At. What. I. Am.
I thought it was a tumour at first. I thought about getting it out. Sat there at my wooden desk with a mirror, a battery powered drill, and a bottle of cheap whiskey. Home workshop trepanation. I'd go to a doctor, of course, but that's the thing. There are no more people. Everybody is gone.
That's how I knew something was wrong at first. Walking down the street, everyone I saw suddenly turned hazy. Like the picture on a television with bad reception. I thought I was going insane. I ran back to my room and slept. Hoping to dream it off. But when I woke up everyone was gone. And when I'd look out the window all I would see is their shadows co mingling with each other. Their shadows going about their lives. But those shadows were not attached to anything.
After a while even the shadows went away.
A day later I felt it. A dull throb in the back of my mind. Only not in the back. Inside. A throb that turned into a pounding. Constant, rhythmic. A beat. Almost like music. Constant. Overpowering.
That night I dreamed. For the first time in years. I dreamt I was falling. And, when I woke up, I found myself under the bed. Cowering. But from what?
I tried thinking it away. It seemed to work. For a bit. I thought how insane this all was. I told myself there is nothing in my head. Nothing in my mind. That I fell asleep and simply never woke up. And the beating in my head seemed to stop. And for a while there I sat there in the room thinking about what to do. And feeling sorry for myself. And after a while my eyes closed and I fell asleep. And I dreamed again.
I dreamed of being human again. I dreamt of who I was and what I had. I dreamt of people. So everyday and commonplace and yet so very alien. Familiar yet foreign. Still, I felt relief. And comfort. And then. I was falling again.
I woke up to find the throbbing back. I ran. Ran out of the room. Outside. Ran aimlessly. I barely noticed that it had started to rain. I simply ran and ran and ran and then, when I couldn't run anymore, I fell and cried. And then I became very afraid.
I suddenly felt I was becoming somebody else.