Awakening

It is hard to describe this writing without spoiling it, so I won't. Hope you like it.

A sudden surge of pain ran across his battered body. Just opening his eyes sent daggers of pain through his brain so he kept them closed; not that opening them would be of any good since when he did, all he could see was a blurry shine with no distinctive form nor movement which enveloped his entire sight. He tried to speak, and couldn’t; tried to move, and couldn’t. He felt as if nothing else existed, not a world nor a body. He felt as a spirit lingering a space of bright nothingness.

How long had he been lying here? Days? Months? Years? Eons? What was his name? What was he? The same answer applied to all those questions: I don’t know. A sudden surge of despair enveloped his psyche and urged him to struggle against this state. He opened his eyes again, tried to move, to talk, shout or scream, tried to breathe; all to no avail. He felt miserable, felt impotent, alone; he felt dead. He opened his eyes once more, and passed out from the pain.

How can you keep track of time when there is no such concept? How can one know about time and its definition if such a thing has never been real or known? Likewise, how can one know about movement, sight, odours, hearing or any other sense or ability for that matter if all of them are nonexistent? These questions in themselves gave him new hope, strength and resolve. If he could remember, think and miss those things surely, nay certainly, they were real. He had been able to perform them, and he would be to do so again.

Images began appearing in his mind view. He had not opened his eyes, yet he was seeing something, feeling something. Flashes of a myriad of colours began succeeding each other. No specific order, no specific purpose; yet he saw them, and recalled their names. Red, Indigo, Green, Yellow, Blue and Purple, all in a continuous succession which slowly took the shape of a winding path, a tunnel with no visible beginning nor end, yet moving steadily forward. How was it that he not only saw colours but also recognized them by name? How, if it was in truth occurring, was he moving in any direction when, as far as he could recall he had never moved before.

After some thought, which was the only way to measure or reckon any span of time passage, he decided that he had to try and open his eyes again. He had been seeing colours for what could have easily been mere seconds or decades, so it occurred to him that maybe now that he actually recalled colours he could identify objects if he saw them with his real eyes. What came to him was both terrifying and yet glorious. No surge of pain, no needles in the brain, yet forms, clear and distinctive forms. He could not recall any of their names, so he had truly no idea what it was he was actually seeing, yet he saw!

Whatever it was that he saw, it was bright. The colours where a clear blue with patches or blotches of white here and there, and small green figures just on some borders, as if they were almost a frame. The blue stretch was gorgeous in an indescribable way. It seemed as if it was made of various shades of blue rather than just one, and they seemed to shift their brightness gradually. What was this heavenly vision? His eyes, though not hurt anymore, were still strained by the effort of opening them. He could not open them wide; it felt as if something forced him to close them a bit, as to avoid damage or to get a better vision, As if to regulate the input of colours.

All of the sudden, this something vanished, but so did some of the brightness in what he was seeing. He was able to open his eyes wider, yet his vision seemed to be somewhat dulled as the colours were not as potent. He also felt a slight difference in his body. His face and head seemed to be a bit more relaxed, yet the rest of his body felt a bit more stressed, as if enduring something on it. And as he pondered this new sensation, he came to the realization that he felt! He was feeling sensations assail his body, and not the entirety of it as with the pain he had felt before, but different sensations to different parts of his now new found body. He felt his head and neck cool, and his body a bit heated. He felt as another force, this one gentle and soothing, cooled the part of his body which was being heated, and chilled the one cooled. He also felt his back pressed against something soft, fresh and a bit moist. He began feeling his body in its entirety, began feeling every parts and every muscle; every bone and every sinew. He was a being.

Many questions now assailed his mind and all of them with no apparent answer. Was he the only being? What was this new found body for? Where was he? What was he? If he was the only being, then the last question would be a pointless one. Yet, if he wasn’t, then it was of utmost importance. If he was not alone, then was he safe? Where all other beings alike to himself?

As he lay there, trying to assimilate all of this which was happening to him, he felt something different in his face. It felt as if that part of his body was in unrest, as if there were small things in between his eyes which danced and moved making this area a bit sensitive and ticklish. It was a bothersome sensation, one that did not allow him to think clearly anymore and forced him to focus on it as solely it; and so he did. He began focusing on it, first to study this new sensation, then to analyze it, and finally, to fight it.

Suddenly, his arm raised and fell again with all its deadweight on his head, right in the middle of his eyes. This made the aforementioned sensation cease for the time being, but sent again pain rushing through his entire face. His eyes, which closed themselves on the moment his heavy hand landed on his face, where now covered in some type of fluid which made his vision blurry. He couldn’t see the blue cover in front of him with clarity anymore. Just opening his eyes became hard, and he felt something crawling down the side of his head. It felt a bit warm.

After this new found pain diminished, he was able to realize that he had moved. Moved! Not voluntarily still, yet moved. He discovered that not only was he a living being, but also one capable of movement. Yet, was it wilful movement? If he wanted to, would he be able to move once again? And would he be able to control this movement? He might be able to recall it again and move whenever he wanted to, but would he be able to control it? He determined that he would start with something smaller and thus probably much easier and with not so painful possible outcomes. He focused on his right side, and tried to feel every muscle. Once this was done, or at least he thought it was, he began focusing on what had moved before, his arm. This decision resulted from the logic that since it was this arm the first thing to move in his body, then it would follow that it would be easier to move it again. He focussed on this arm for sometime –again, if such a concept existed at all- and focussed on something within his arm, but smaller; namely, his hand.

Then it struck him, as he pondered on the issue concerning time, he realized that the cooling sensation which covered on his head at first had now extended as to cover all of his being. He did not feel he heat anymore, but felt cool in a progressive way. He also noted that the blue veil was no longer blue, but a very light violet. It seemed to be getting white darker as well. He forgot completely about his hand as he watched in awe how the light blue faded into a dark violet.

It was quite a breathtaking view. The sky, which just a moment ago was of a bright light blue, was changing hues slowly yet steadily. The entire spectrum was parading in front of his eyes, and he lay there, unmoving and uncaring of all, just taking in the wondrous show which was being displayed for him. Yet, as he watched, he also noted that seeing was getting quite more difficult. It seemed and felt as if light was fading, and darkness was creeping back on him. He despaired again believing that all the progress –if such a thing existed- he had made so far was being undone slowly, as if all the wonders he had seen and felt were but a dream from which he was slowly and painfully awakening. He felt powerless and immensely sad. His vision began getting blurry again as they watered, and he felt this liquid roll down the sides of his head. This was enough to make him stop and wonder upon the fact that although his vision was dwindling, he still felt in full force everything, from his body to the soft object pressing against his back. Just as he pondered this, he saw something that left his breathless. Right in front of his eyes, where the blue veil had been, the veil had turned to an almost complete black, yet, here and there, small white dots appeared. At first, just a few were to be seen, yet more and more became visible until he beheld an even more breathtaking view. The formerly blue mantle which now was entirely black was covered by many bright dots. Some twinkled, others seemed to change colours subtly and some shined with bigger intensity than others, yet they were all there. They shone a pale silverfish light on him, and for some time, he forgot about all else, even his own body, and allowed himself to be absorbed fully by the vast nothingness which now extended in front of him.

He lay there, unmoving as if death had claimed lordship over him again. He could see nothing but the white dotted black mantle. He cared for nothing else, and in his mind, these dots formed different shapes. What this shapes meant he did not have even the slightest idea, yet he could see them. He felt that this figures where a bit known to him, as if in some very distant past, maybe even another life or existence, he had not only known them, but could have also named them. They felt familiar, and this felt quite comforting.

Yet all of this faded, even his sense of awe, in face of what he began to see. Just in the border of his sight, close to his right yet a bit high in his vision range, he saw a faint glow, as if something quite unique approached slowly. It glowed with the same silver light that the dots did, yet this was stronger, more intense. He still could not see what it was that which emitted this glow, for all he could so far observe was a faint glow which seemed as an aura that surrounded a round object. As he beheld this new glow, he noted that, if such a thing was even possible, this new light did not brighten the velvety black mantle, yet made it even darker. It seemed as if this glow absorbed within itself all the dots, since around this silver aura, a black ring existed from which no light escaped. He beheld this new sight, and once again, forgot of all else.

As time crept by, he beheld how the aura moved more into the centre of his sight, accompanied by the black ring on the outer border, and followed by the object which seemed to emanate this glow. Never had he imagined such a thing possible. The white sphere which was surrounded by the glow, which now looked more like a crown, was such a sight as he never thought possible before. It was truly astonishing to observe this new sight, this new actor in the play which unfolded in front of his eyes. This magnificent sight caught and held captive his every thought and imagination. He once again gave in to the trancelike state from which he had been coming in and out.

Then it came to him. As he lay there, lost in the beauty of what he had been seeing, their name came to him. The spherical object in front of him, or better put, above him and in the centre of his vision was the moon, Earth’s only satellite; and the white dot’s where stars which shone in the black night sky. The black mantle was actually the sky, which was now black rather than blue since it was night time. He was beholding the black starry sky from some unknown location on Earth, and that was where he was; Earth. He remembered the white blotches against the blue daytime sky and recognized them as clouds, cumulous of water vapour and humidity which floated in the sky. The soft thing pressed against him was actually beneath him, and he was being pressed against it by gravity. It was grass and soil, and he green which framed his vision during the day were tree leaves which were what cast the shade over him which cooled him from the sun’s heat.

All of this knowledge came back into his head in a mere span of a second or two, and more would have as well if it weren’t for the fact that his mind could not hold so much information being recalled at once and so shut down. To put it in other words, he fainted.

Pain woke him up to a bright cloudy day. He remembered now that time was measured in seconds, minutes and hours. He knew that it was past midday, and the pain which awoke him was related to this, to noon. He had not eaten for now who knew how long, and his body yearned for that nourishment. For all that he knew, at least one day had gone by without him eating; most probably, two had. This left him with only three more days without eating for his body to give away. This again raised awareness of another fact, and a much more important one; he had not had anything to drink in the same span of days, and this fact left him with only one more day before his body gave away. He began focusing on his hand again, now with renewed intensity. If he was to survive, he had to be able to move in order to look for water and food.

He struggled against he numb feeling that held his body captive. He struggled against the despair rushing through his body and mind. He struggled, to no avail. Yet no mater the despair, the sudden urge to fight on, the sudden urge to live was enough to keep him focusing all his strength and will on moving that one finger. The unknowing state in which he was just days before now seemed nothing more than a strange dream. Now, fully aware and almost fully knowing –since he still could not recall his name or how he came to be in this situation- of his state and his surroundings, that constant sense of awe had departed and given way to the crude blandness of reality and the quite despair that came at the realization of one’s death. Yet, he struggled.

A new pained now began creeping over his body, the pain of skin exposed to the midday sun with no protection. How many hours had gone by? One? Two? Most probably two and a half, and considering the fact that he had already been lying there for at east two days, his skin was quite beyond the point of a mere sunburn. He had also noted an acrid smell in the air, one that raided his sense of smell and left place for no other smell. Also, he had a bit of trouble breathing, a fact that a first had found a bit strange, but as he focused on moving his finger he realized why this was. On the day before he had moved his entire arm in an urge to stop a bothersome itch on his nose. This had as an effect the raising and clumsy dropping of his hand on his face thus breaking his nose. This added to his worries, since if he was in a forest of some sort, then surely predatory animals had to inhabit it; animals that would feel attracted to the smell of blood and the sight of a helpless prey.

He had already managed to move his finger, yet in jerky clumsy movements that he could not control really. This was already quite an advance, but he needed to be able to control his body lest he break something else again. He knew that him not having eaten anything also contributed to the poor control over his muscles and their weaken state, yet he knew that even so, he had to be able to move enough as to at least crawl as to not die in this unknown location.

The sun was now already outside his vision range, which meant that it must be past three o’clock, probably close to four o’clock. He was now able to move his hand, all fingers and his wrist at will and with wilful movements, though still jerky and clumsy. Nevertheless, it was enough as for him to start focusing on his left arm. He tried moving hi finger and found that this time it was a bit easier. The movements were not wilful or precise, but he could nonetheless move them at will, and the same applied to his wrist. Yet, when he tried to move his arm a sharp pain stung him and blinded him for a second or two. This new pain disoriented him a bit and left him out of breath. He had a slight idea of what the pain might me, but hoped that it would not be so, hoped that his arm was not broken.

The only way to find out was to be able to move his neck and torso, maybe even sit upright. He tried to sit up using his right arm, and was assaulted again by the same blinding pain, only that this time it came from his torso. Was his body indeed battered? He knew from the pain that his ribs were broken, or at least -and this he hoped more than anything else- only one was. The odds were looking worse and worse, and he had half a mind to just surrender and give in to the warm embrace of death. He knew that if he went one more day with no water he would start having hallucinations. At least if this was so, he would go with a bit of hope, or in the worst case scenario possible, despair. Still, he would not give in, if he was to die, it would not be prostrated and defenceless. He struggled to move his head, at least to the sides since this would give him a better view of his location. He tried to raise his head, but was stung again in the ribs, yet he did not allow this to stop him and he continued, though with a bit more care. What he saw did not only appal him, but left him almost bereft of his sanity. His left arm was indeed broken, twisted at a strange angle just a bit above the elbow. His torso was covered in blood, and he could see at least two broken ribs, one of which had broken his skin and was protruding out, rising over the rest of his torso as a crimson pole. He also managed to see that his right leg lay as well on a strange angle. He dropped his head back on the ground and began sobbing and crying. What had happened to him as to leave him in this state? Who was he that this had to happen to him?

He turned his head sideways and was again shocked. The acrid smell he had smelled were corpses around him which had already started to rot. He could at least see three more, and none of them looked better than he did but quite worse. He turned his head to the other side and saw part of the cockpit of a small Cessna plane; and all came back to him.

He was a free lance pilot, hired by a group of tourists to fly them over the portion of the Colombian Amazon. They had taken off in order to fly around for a couple of hours, but something had gone amiss. First he had heard the heavily bearded man ask what the something he saw amid the trees was; then the woman in kaki shorts had screamed and almost instantly he felt something hit the small rental plane with an impressive force right in the middle of it. He felt the plane crack open in half and heard the faint scream of the woman, knowing that she had fallen from the plane. He had closed his eyes, felt the vertigo of the free fall, clutch the wheel tighter and given himself to God. He had felt the impact of what remained of the plane against the treetops, and nothing more.

He did not cry anymore, did not struggle; did not move. He simply closed his eyes again, prayed and surrendered his soul to God. He relaxed his breathing and began thinking about his family; about his wife and his daughter. He thought about his daughter’s coming birthday and the gift he had already bought. He thought about how the pastor had asked him to preach next Sunday and how glad he and his wife had felt, how proud their daughter had been. He thought about the life he had had and how he had no regrets. He thought about what awaited him, and felt warmth embrace him.

Author's Note

This story was conceived in a span of 4 to 5 hours in a single afternoon, so if you find plot holes or loose ends somewhere, it is because small to no attention was given to an overall plot. I simply sat, began typing and allowed the story to come to life.

Reviews

[Sharon Miller Bolander]

I absolutely had to finish your story just to find out what had happened. Your ending did explain all the steps along the story's path to discovery. You have succeeded in using vivid imagery; and, in the end, I could picture the scene. My suggestion would be to let this story sit a few days and then go back to re-read and tweak. Could you possibly give "him" an identity in the end? I enjoyed your story and know it will be even better when you get done with the fine tuning. Sharon