12 Pm

12pm.

I awake. My eyes adjust too the smoke and blindness of my previous unconscious slumber. The apocalyptic ringing in my ears reaches an alien pitch; I look at the ceiling, white, dirty. I feel light. Weightless, I’m on my back facing up. The concept of movement is threatening too me and I lay, just being alive. No thoughts run through my mind, not capable of that yet no movement in my body, nothingness. Perfection. I just look at the white, dirty ceiling. But then a wave hits me, a wave of pain as my body become adjusted to being alive again. Too much. Too soon. I enter the realm of unconscious.

I wake again, I can move, the pain is scrutinising as it claws its way through every fibre of my body. I roll on my side. I realise I’m in my office building and everything’s wrecked, my computer is smashed and its destroyed pieces dot the room, papers everywhere creating a blanket of white, cabinets on their side like age old rocks weathered by this destruction. Stationary makes itself at home by littering my floor. My small office in Alabama is absolutely ruined. Oh my god my boss will kill me; that’s all I can think as I lay in the centre of the room and slowly survey it still on the floor I look up too see a light swinging out of its socket in the ceiling, casting irregular circles of ominous yellow across the room as it swings. Occasionally diffusing the light turns off. It must be night and a cool breeze hisses through the ajar window at the bottom of my office. I touch my face in sheer despair. My hand is swamped in blood dripping down my wrist, mostly dried into a flaky dark red hue. My hand had been previously resting on my chest, I adjust my chin too look down at it. My white shirt is now crimson a huge droplet of blood splattered across drenched the blood gives a slightly transparent effect. Unbuttoning it quickly I see bandages covering me from arm too arm. Soaking up the liquid they are a pink colour. I was bandaged…….I was not alone. Unconscious.... [continues]

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