- Where am I? What is this place? Why can’t I see anything?
Echoes of his voice travel in this strange lair. No memories, no body. Just his essence, his soul in a black oasis, surrounded by tranquility and what seems to be light creatures.
- What are these things? Why can’t I feel anything, my hands and my legs. It’s like they’re numb.
Yet he doesn’t realize it, a strange thought occurs to him.
- Maybe I fell asleep. Too much work does that to ya’. That guy who said “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” didn’t know the half of it.
Only his voice comes back- haunting him- confirming that he is in a REM state of mind.
-Still, a bit weird for a dream. Don’t I suppose to be seeing things of what my conscious mind cannot see from the unconscious, or something like that?
If he would have a face right about now, it would be puzzled.
- Maybe I don’t have any inner wishes or desires. Hold on….
I seem to remember working like a drone, but I don’t know who I am. Not even the work that I do. What’s happening to me?
Another thought occurs to him, yet his terrified to speak it.
- Maybe… I’m.. dead?
No echo this time.
- I’m dead? As in dead-dead?! What happened?!!
Yet there is no one around to give him some answers. He can see that he is surrounded by light-idling creatures. They look like serpents, snakes out of a rain forest. Same qualities, same aspect, but different. He feels no fear whilst he attempts to approach one.
- What are these things?
He goes ahead and touches one. A strange and powerful light emerges from the serpent that was touched.
- It’s so…. beautiful…. what is it?
A figure appears before him. A woman dressed in white, with blond hair, and hazelnut eyes. This is purity and a fragment of his memories. The figure attempts to speak by opening her mouth, but not a word or sound comes out.
- Who… who are you? he asks while taking two steps backwards. He does not have a body, but if he would, two steps would’ve been taken backwards. Puzzling it may be that he may move without a body, he never questioned this as weird, or never even appeared to realize this.
The figure follows his retreat by taking one step forward, advancing. This figure, this ‘woman in white’ has a body.. the body of a teenager, or at least thats what he sees.
- It is not important who I am. What is important is the message I have come to give you.
<Message? Is she kidding me? I’m maybe in a life or death situation and she tells me she wants to give me a message?!> – Ahem, a… message?
- Yes, a message. But you are not ready to receive it. You have not grown strong enough. You have not suffered long enough.
<What, does this chick now my shoe size as well? Wait… I can remember now… I think…> -What is this place anyway? Where am I? Why can’t I remember anything and how do I get out?
- Relax, you will be out of here soon enough. I’d wish to answer all of your questions, but I am forbidden. When you are ready, you will know everything you need to know. For now… all that you must do.. is wake up!
<Wake up…? Wake up..? How? How can I wake up?>
…< Good morning, it’s 9:02 and what a beautiful morning it is. Sunny weather and no clouds for today with an estimate of 13 degrees…> The radio went out with a bang afterwards.
– Uhhh, what did I do last night? Why am I so exhausted?
<I don’t even remember how I got to sleep. At least, it’s Saturday, means no work for today.>
He wakes from his bed, goes about his daily morning routine which includes washing, scrubbing and breakfast. And then watches the news while powering up his PC.
This morning, something breaks his routine. He catches a glimpse of someone peaking in from the window. Only for a short second after which, the figure disappears. He turns on the T.V. to watch the news channel.
<… with a total body count of over 300 and still counting, this is the worst airplane crash this country has had in years, eclipsing even the 10th of August 1990 when another passenger plane crashed in the North Tower sky-scrapper killing everyone on the plane but no casualties among the building. This is Joe Silverton reporting live from the crash site, back to you Jenna!
Thank you, Joe, for those of you who don’t know, a commercial plane collided in mid-air with another passenger airplane near the city of Dremberg just minutes ago. Early reports suggest there are no survivors form the passenger plane, only the pilot of the commercial plane is being rushed…>
-Wow, right here in this city…. man, this sucks… those poor people. How could this have happened?
Puzzled and confused he switches the T.V. off only to hear his cellphone ring. The caller id shows it’s from his colleague at work, Johny ‘Honest’ Cricket.
- Hey, buddy? Heard the news?
- Yea, I just seen it on T.V. How could this of happened?
-Well they say it was human error, but I don’t believe that crap. You know me…
- .. yeah, I know you. With your conspiracy theories and all that. Come on, lets be serious, who would want to target us? What benefit could they have?
- Who says that it’s for benefits? Or interests? Some people like to help around, others just want to throw our big wonderful world to the bonfire. You know how psychopaths are born.
- Yea’, a little too well….
- Oops. Sorry, didn’t meant too say that
- It’s all right. It wasn’t your fault.
- So anyway, listen, it’s Saturday. Want to go out, me you and Rachel?
- No thanks man, I’ll pass on that one.
- But why? You’ve got something better to do?
- It’s not that…. I’m not feeling so good, and I’m not in the mood.
- Come on, I really think you have a shot at Rachel. Come on, she wants to know you some more. What, is it going to kill you or what?
- Honest-Johny, you have no idea. Listen, I’ll think about it and give you a call..
- All right, but don’t think too much, or you might fry your brain. Just joking! I’m counting on you Derick..
- Yeah, I know you are.
<Derick hangs up the phone and starts walking to his PC.>
-Would it hurt actually to go out? What is wrong with me, why can’t I be normal, like any other folk. Like Johny, or Joe. Or Jenna. Why can’t I have a social life, a normal one. Why must I be reclusive. Maybe I will try and go out for a bit. Hope no plane crashes on me. <with that, he changes direction, heads for the bedroom, finds a change of clean clothes after which he exits his house not knowing what to expect out of this typical but tragic weekend.>