Two

It’s dark. It’s so very dark. Why… why can I breathe and not see? Am I not blinking? Aren’t my eyes open? My eyes… my eyes… “My eyes?” The feeling of coarse, gruff fingers sliding across an equally coarse, gruff face; their intent not fully realized but searching feverishly nonetheless. The mind arrives at several thoughts all at once. “Why can’t I see?” “What exactly is wrong with my face?” “My face, is this my face?” “I feel different.” “Why am I struggling to explain this… even to myself?” The only means that remains to perceive the nearby world is to grope blindly and hope for some small mercy to elucidate the mind to further, actual answers to ostensibly unanswerable questions.

Defeat arrives but is disregarded as the hands that once sought answers slowly rest at the sides – his sides. Something awful washes over his mind momentarily, like a single firecracker… and then is gone. Like a dream, the information that just was there, just tangible, vanishes leaving behind only more desire and more unquenchable yearning for answers. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity he allows himself to cry, the helplessness has consumed him. His meek will unearthed and penetrated with resounding failure; the legitimacy of his character in question. “No.” The resolve arises from nothing, allowing him to form a complete concept of self-actualization. “No… no… no… no… no… no… no………” Now on his belly, he crawls toward the unknown and the unidentified… uncharted… the concealed.

A ledge and a tumble. His body comes to a sliding stop in what feels like loose gravel. He feels the warmth across his calves like a burn… and slightly wet. He knows that he is bleeding, if but slightly. Though he cannot see it, he can feel it for sure. Sitting up, still confused to the darkness, he attempts to perceive his surroundings to no avail.