[coma:worldone] hello darkness, my old friend

When I open my eyes for the first time, I am sure that I have passed from the land of the living. I have been dying for a great many years. Never had I expected to truly live within the world that had been stacked up against me. No one can live within the confines of a house built upon the foundation of abuse, both mental and physical, against the body of a child unable to defend himself. Having died is a relief I never thought I’d actually live long enough to see or feel. It’s a backwards kind of logic, but I’m sure that if my father and grandfather could deprive me of the peace of a life ended, they would take it without reservation or regret. They would make my each breath a living hell within those four walls, tearing down every hope one could have to carry on in any little way to make it through. I was never meant to make it out of there, alive or dead. I was meant to rot there until there was nothing left of me to salvage.

With heavy blinks against the exhaustion pulling my eyes closer and closer to shut, I shuffle past the stages of awaking in a new and strange place. My vision is blurry, eyes watering against the dim light falling like sun-drops through the small skylight that looms high above me. The light hardly even reaches me here, dwindling little by little until the faded tassels of day are no more than scraps upon this bottom landing. I can’t even feel it from here. A chill works its way across my skin in rolling sweeps like a whisper in the distance. I blink slowly, raising a hand to filter what little light there is through my shuttered fingers, watching the particles in the air spiral and sink. There is a beauty here, in this quiet darkness. I feel more at peace here than I think I ever have in my life. A small smile lifts onto my lips. What a simple joy it is to be free. For a moment, I bask in it, breathing in deep against the cold air and letting my eyes flutter shut.

The light dims beyond my eyelids. My eyes flutter open, smile sinking from my face as I push myself into a sitting position. I gaze upward at the skylight, unease surging through my veins with every pump of my heart until finally, finally the light flickers out of existence. My breath catches in my throat, a quiet whimper releasing into the empty air around me. What is this? What is going on? Slowly, I twist until I can settle my weight on my hands and knees, eyes searching blindly for something to latch onto. There is nothing but absolute darkness before me. No, no, no. A heavy weight settles in my chest, the weight of a panic long borne upon my being. This darkness is so familiar, so completely encompassing, that I can hardly find the composure to suck in a shallow breath. I have spent years of my life in this darkness, years locked within myself.

I force myself up, bare feet slipping against smooth stone as I right myself. My body is still hunched over, however. Part of me curls inward in a desperate attempt to escape this darkness. It’s as if I’m being tugged inside of myself, drawn away from the surface of my very skin, but there is nowhere to go. I reach out my arms, feeling how my bones shame within me at the effort to keep myself calm. Never have I felt this kind of panic settle within my marrow. The very core of me is screaming to hide, hide, hide and never come back out, to stop feeling and to grow cold and to leave myself, but I am here, so how could I be not here? I shake the thought out of my head, but it doesn’t shake the pulling sensation within me. One arm retracts to pull at the shirt over my chest, clawing uneasily at my heart as I stumble a few uneasy steps forward.

My feet slide forward in unsteady jerks, skin scratching against rough rock. I let out a breath, the air hitching as I slide unexpectedly against a slimy patch of the floor beneath me. It’s enough to throw my balance off completely, my knees buckling with the unexpected shift and my body falling to the ground. My arms are met with shallow water and I jerk as it splashes into my face. Coughing against the unexpected wetness, I raise an arm to wipe at my face in large gestures. All the while, my eyes are peeled wide against the dark as if my efforts will allow me to see the water just inches below my face. They don’t. Everything feels wrong here. What is this place? It held so much hope with just a glimmer of light from above, but now there is an endless expanse of pitch. I breathe in against the fear, ragged breaths clawing at my lungs with every drag from the air.

Slowly, I reach out an arm, crawling forward with careful movements. There is a tension coiled tight around my spine and it squeezes tighter with every unsure slide of my knees and hand. The chill lodged in my heart sense fear coursing through my veins with every pump. I don’t like this fear. It is so familiar, but so unlike anything I have ever felt. I choke back a sob, pulling my arm back to wipe at my mouth nervously, fingertips trembling harder as I extend them into the infinite darkness again. I feel the ground tilt beneath me, rock sliding away from my hands at a slight decline. Each move I make is tinier now, each slip of my hand across the ground mere inches from the previous position.

After what feels like ages of crawling along the ground with shaking limbs, my outstretched fingers graze something before me. I lean forward, letting my fingers skim across the rock haphazardly for a moment before pressing my entire hand against it. As I lean into the uneven stone, I crawl forward until I can press my back against the rock in full. All of my life, I have lived from one moment of pain to the next. Here, as I wait with baited breath, hands trying to find purchase against the ground, I wonder how I was able to live for so long. My arms are shaking with the tension that boils in my veins. My head is pounding and my eyes hurt from the pressure. I feel every single hair on my body stand at attention as my ears strain for any kind of sound. There’s a sickness rolling in my stomach. I want more than anything to be sick and to close my eyes and to purge everything in me, just so I can wake up to peace. If only I could close my eyes and not be here anymore…

A faint rumble sounds in the distance, my heart doubling its pace as I press closer to the wall. Every inch of me trembles as the sound builds louder in the distance. My eyes are peeled open, staring out into the darkness as if I will see a thing in this pitch. A particularly loud crash sounds off closer to me and I hurry to move. I feel as if someone is squeezing my heart tight in their fist as I scramble away, hands glued to the wall as I rise to my feet and stumble off. The tremors in the air sink to the ground, my movements becoming clumsier with the addition of movement from the rock beneath me. My mouth is open, panting against the air in short, aborted breaths. I cannot stop the tears streaming from my eyes. I don’t remember ever being this terrified in all of my life. Each breath feels shorter than the last and each step feels more uncertain. Part of me wants to sink against the wall and give up, let the trembling consume me, and let the darkness reign. I can’t seem to stop myself from following the rock, however. My hands shake against the uneven surface, feeling as it curves to the left. Every step is slippery now, my bare feet trying to keep purchase on the ground.

The noise sounds farther now. The continual movements I make settle into a practiced rhythm. Right foot forward, right hand slides, left hand slides, left foot forward. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in deeper, c’mon you need to breathe. Move, move, move. Another crash startles me down to my bones, knees giving out. I cry out as my feet slip forward, following the sudden, sharp decline of the ground I walk on. The tightness in my chest explodes with in a firework of raw panic and desperation. My fingertips feel raw as I claw against the rock, but it’s no use to try and hold on.

I fall.