When was the last time you woke up to realize that you did not know who you were?
If some thing like that happened to you, what would you do?
Would you immediately begin panicking? Or would you try to push into your brain, searching for that last identifiable fragment that might be floating around amidst the millions of grey cells?
Would you be stunned for a while, unable to think straight, still feeling like you were caught up in one of your big bad nightmares?
Would your senses cooperate with you or would they be overawed by the confusion and the terribly white light that might be burning above you?
When you get your bearings, and find yourself laid out on a surgeon’s table, wearing nothing but a green, backless hospital gown, a white sheet covering the lower half of your body, would you then begin to panic?
And when you cannot feel your legs, still covered by the white-as-a-ghost piece of linen, would you begin to feel faint, not sure how to handle the gruesome picture that your imagination is painting for you?
What if to dispel all your unsaid fears, you jerk the sheet off and with relief find both of your legs still in place, in deep sleep, oblivious to neural commands?
Would you then wait for a while and then get out of the bed to investigate your surroundings? To search for someone who knows the way to solve this monster of a Rubik’s Cube that you seem to have become?
Would you notice the rows of gleaming surgical instruments that might be arrayed on the steel table next to the bed? Would you notice the cruel grins that they might be throwing at you […we wait to cut open human flesh… (snicker)] as you make your way out of the room?
What if you find yourself in a big hallway, littered with broken toys and broken wheelchairs? Would you grab on to one of them to keep you company or would you kick them out of frustration?
While stumbling through the hospital, what if you do not come across a soul and the thought begins to settle into your mind that something is just not right here? What if this is more than a simple case of anterograde amnesia?
What would you do if the hospital does not turn up anything except for folders with blank pages, computers with no files and television sets that have mastered the art of displaying random static?
Would you begin to cry now? Would you at least let a few tears out? Would you feel coal black fear being pumped out into your veins?
Or would you tell yourself that some kind of explanation could be found outside the hospital?
What if outside was a ghost town straight out of an American survival horror movie or videogame?
Would you shiver as a strong wind blows into your gown as you stare at the low lying grey concrete structure that lies across the road before you?
Would you wonder why the first analogy that came up in your mind was to do with America when your skin is brown?
And would you jump when a voice starts speaking inside your head?
…Do you like the eagles?…
Would you be able to understand the voice?
…Do you know of the wires and switches and fuses and detonators and…?
Would you be patient and listen to what the voice has to say? Or would you shake your head to clear out the cobwebs?
…Do you hate their ways…their women…their children…?
Would you attempt to ask the voice who it was talking about?
…Do you celebrate September…His call in September…?
Will you do it? Will you answer the call? When He calls for you again, will you respond to Him?
Would you try to talk back, no matter how crazy it might seem? If you do, how would you start? Would you talk to the voice like you talk to a stranger or would you treat it as a friend? Would you attempt to persuade it to help you?
And what if, just as abruptly as it had started, the voice in your head shuts up?
With nothing better to do, would you then take off to explore the ominous grey structure?
Or would you want to roam around in the outdoors for a while, although all around, the only thing that you can see is hard baked earth, a few brown scrubs, surrounded on most sides by rusty wire fence, which has already given up its fight against trespassers?
Would you want to walk under the unrealistically scorching sun to investigate what lies beyond the brown hills you can see in the distance?
What if in the building, you find the main door made of heavy steel unlocked, and behind it, hundreds of white fluorescent tube lights lighting up a long, winding corridor which extends forever?
A few steps down the corridor, if without warning very loud music begins blaring out from invisible speakers, would it make you scream out in shock?
Would the violent overproduced kitschy brew of pianos, strings, guitars and a wailing diva overwhelm you or would it merely be the ear-shattering volume at which the music is being played?
The door leading outside, would that begin to tempt you, to lure you back to the discerningly brown canvas painted by dead imagination?
Amidst the steadily increasing shrieks, would you still be able to notice that the one door at the end of the corridor seems to be opening slowly to reveal a sliver of light?
Would you run, desperate to escape the cacophony, making your heart pump just that little bit faster?
If at that point, you begin to feel heavy, your insides getting enveloped by smog, would you realize that by running you might have kicked off something within you?
Exactly on cue, at that moment, what if your head begins to pound in perfect synchronization with all the veins in your body?
Would you fall to the ground; crawling forward, your mind hazy with shock and some forgotten drug that seems to be rushing back into your system?
Would you begin to claw your way towards the white light, which seems to be getting brighter and hotter by the moment?
What if it starts to hurt when you breathe, forcing you to gasp and shiver, your skinned knuckles and knees leaving a bloody trail? [Did you notice how rough the floor was? How the small, sharp rocks and shards of glass were easily cutting through your skin?]
Have you ever felt death, up close? As your lungs threaten to collapse and the blood continues to drain away, would you be afraid of death, of dying at that moment without knowing who you were?
As you lie on your back, feeling the sharp pricks invade your body, and gasp and feel your tears running down the sides of your face, would you see the tiny red light suspended from the ceiling?
After you wipe your tears, would you see that the tiny red light is attached to a tiny black box and another one behind it, and another one behind that one, until you realize that there is a never ending line of the black boxes with the tiny lights, all cautiously glowing red and all staring right at you?
Before you slip into darkness, what would you make of the couple of shadows that are now visible in the doorway?
As your head falls back with a crunch, the shadows move forward whispering to each other. They tread carefully over the littered floor, rubber soles crunching away, content and almost joyous, and they reach down and gently lift up your [dying?] body. One shadow begins to whistle as he takes out a cartoonishly big steel syringe, pregnant with boiling green brew.
It hurts only a bit at the side of your neck.
When was the last time you woke up without the slightest idea of who you were or where you were?
When was the last time you woke up with your head pounding from what seems to be a hundred whiskey bottle hangover?
Posts
