Good day at work, lots accomplished. Time to switch off the light and go to bed. Now just need to lay my head down on my….. Where’s the bed? I know my room like the back of my hand. I could sketch it with my eyes closed. Where’s the bed? Better turn on the light to find it. Must’ve moved it and forgot or something.
Where’s the light? Where’s the light? Come on, just find the light. I swear that wall was right here a second ago. Yes, definitely here, why can’t I feel it anymore? Why aren’t there any walls? I can’t have fallen somewhere or else there would’ve been a drop.
Have I been drugged? I better sit down. I’m going to hit something walking about like this. I haven’t drunk much today, how could I be drugged? If it is a drug, am I hallucinating? Have I just been stumbling blindly around the house looking for my bed. I hope I haven’t hurt myself. Can I be sure I’m actually sitting down now? Maybe my brain is too messed up to tell. Maybe I’m sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs.
Why is there no light? My house isn’t this dark. There should be moonlight or starlight through some of the windows. There’s almost nowhere I know that’s this dark. It’s like someone just turned all the worlds lights out and just left me here in this barren lightless wasteland.
Is there anyway out? How am I going to escape this? What if I try yelling? Even if my brain is too messed up to make coherent words somebody should find me and help me.
Why isn’t anybody coming? I have neighbors, they have to be hearing this yelling. I’ve got to have woken up half the neighborhood by now. Does no one know what’s going on with me? I’ve got friends. I swear I do. Can’t somebody somewhere just show me this is going to be alright, that this is going to end.
Where’s the light? Where’s the light? Let me get up and try to find it again.
Now I can’t even get up. I can’t feel my legs or my body. I don’t know if I’m numb or completely immobile, or both. Help, just somebody help.
Wait, things are getting lighter. Yes, things are getting lighter. I can’t see anything yet, but there’s a shift from black to just dark grey.
There’s nothing here. It’s almost normal room levels of light now and I can’t see anything. I can’t even see me. Do I have a body? Where is this? It’s getting midday in full view of the sun bright now, and there’s a dull rumbling sound, like hearing people talk underwater from a great distance.
It’s almost painfully bright now, like someone shining a light in your face. The sounds are getting louder. They are voices! I can start to make something out now. What’s that? It sounds like….
“Doctor! Doctor! Somebody come quick, he’s waking up!”
“I’m here, somebody call the rest of the family. He’s been under six months and he’s finally coming around.”
My eyes flutter open and I see the bright light is a hospital light shining directly in my face, and the voice was that of my mother, calling me back.
“You’ve been under six months.” She tells me. “You hit your head going to bed, and have been lying here for six months.”
“How long have you been waiting here for me to come back?” I ask my mother.
She smiles. “Six months.”