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I remember thinking to myself, “2008 is going to be a good year.”

How wrong I was that clean crisp March morning. Sitting back and once again watching the sunrise from my second story window, I had seen this side of the day from the wrong end far too often in the last few weeks. I don’t know what It was, something about the way the suddenly peaked sun rays shot off the glass face of Westerns hillside campus across town, or maybe the distant views of the San Juan Islands but there was an electricity in the air, something I hadn’t felt in months if not years.

Coming to the quick and reluctant realization that I was in fact not going to be getting any form of sleep for many hours I decided to start my happy hour early and cracked open a cold Pabst Blue Ribbon one of the roommates had left unattended in the fridge. As I walked about the lower half of the house I struggled with the idea that I had been up since almost this time the day prior and that I had the energy to go another ten rounds. Something was off. By this time the I had moved back into my room, pulling up at my desk to answer some emails and phone calls as is my normal morning routine. No Emails, No Messages, No Voicemail, It looked like it was going to be a slow day.

I finished my morning Lager.

It was a Wednesday I thought to myself, I hate Wednesday’s. After a few minutes of surfing news websites for the latest updates on the impending Presidential Elections and the War On Terror, there was a pause. I felt it, as if the whole world had for one second stopped, silent.

It’s amazing to me that this happened only a year ago today. This is not what I was expecting.

Something happened. Something was not right. Looking south towards downtown from my window as I had at sunrise I looked for some type of response from the rest of the world. Was it just me? I remember muttering under my breath “hmm… what was that? Why am I talking to myself?” I quickly stopped. Maybe the lack of sleep lately was starting to wear on me. I had always feared that I would lose control, and maybe that was my tipping point. As I blankly stared reflecting on my morning, or evening according to my internal clock, I tried to brush off whatever had just happened to me.

Checking my Email once again, coming up empty, I leaned back in my chair, shut my eyes and sank into thought. The energy I had felt a few hours prior had vanished and I passed out sitting up in my chair, head back and to the right, feet on the desk and arms folded. A most uncomfortable position. Usually I wouldn’t sleep long like this, waking up and wandering towards my bed making it just close enough to face plant into the sheets and remove myself for consciousness. But for some reason my lack of comfort did not wake me during this nap. Slowly I fell into a fairly deep R.E.M. sleep. Next came the Lucidity.

“We have to get you out of here quick sir.” She said.
“What’s going on? Where is everyone?” I asked, confused.
“There’s no time, please we must move quickly.” She declared.
“I demand to know what’s happening damn it!” I yelled.
“He’s bleeding, we need to get him to a hospital.” She screamed.
“I am not…” I soft spokenly said, as I came to the realization that in fact my shirt was covered in crimson from a wound I could not see nor feel.

I woke up.
Something happened. Something was not right.

It felt like days. I awoke confused about where I was and what time, what day, what year it was. I slowly took my legs from my desk, wiped away the feeling of sand and mortar from my eyes, sat back into my full upright position. As I tried to glance at the clock on my computer screen I realized that my desktop wasn’t on, I didn’t remember turning it off. The laptop to my left was still on, it read 11:22pm. As I calculated in my head I came to realize that for nearly twelve hours I had slept in that very strange position.
After coming to the realization that I had been asleep I started to recall my dream. I don’t think much of dreams. They to me are merely strange storylines thrown together by unfinished thoughts. However this one was different. I remembered it all, every detail and fact, unlike many of my dreams. It could have been the violent video games I had played as a child, the crime scene drama I had watched the week before or the recollection of all the times I’ve watched the JFK assassination. Something was different about this time, but I wasn’t sure what it was, or how it would relate. I decided to move on with my night.

No Emails, No Messages, No Voicemail, I hadn’t missed much. The house was quite. I threw on some pants and walked downstairs. Not a light on in the house. I checked for vehicles, the roommates must have been out. Even the garage, the epicenter of many of the goings on around our home, was strangely empty and dark. He must be at his fiancés I thought nothing of it.

As I walked through the kitchen I decided to make a snack, nothing big but I felt hungry or something. I threw a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster, grabbed the tea pot and put it on the stove. My dwindling food supply made me conserve, peanut butter toast and English breakfast tea had become my new best friends. I had successfully thwarted my hunger for the moment, but soon I came to realize that hunger wasn’t the only thing I was feeling.

I returned yet again to my room just past midnight. As I sat down on the edge of my bed I removed the worn denim jeans and black t-shirt that are the staples of my daily wardrobe. “Nothing left for me today,” I found myself muttering. Laying back I closed my eyes. All was quite, silent. The feeling, it happened again. As if for one second every known thing in the universe stood still, suns grew dormant, planets failed to emit there drowning sound waves, every single atom was at once suspended in time and space. It seemed to last forever. As I waited for the moment to pass I fell into unconsciousness.

“I’m fucking dieing here!” was all I could hear in the background.
“Turn that damn thing off.” She told me.
“I can’t this is a dream,” I told her.
“Sometimes…” she said frustrated at me.
“The walls are closing in,” I spoke calmly.
“Don’t worry, you won’t feel it…” her words were ominous.

What I had awoke to was not what I had fallen asleep to.

9:11am on the dot. First phone call of the day came in, it felt like the first time I had talked to anyone in months.

“Hey buddy, where have you been?” the voice on the other end asked.
I wasn’t alone as I had predicted.

One Comment

  1. i just took an ambien and am fighting this delirium of the falsely tired world that is sucking me in but damn that was good.

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