Aura awakens in The Sanctuary, a place known for repairing and rewiring humans. Nothing is known about their methods other than it works and those who enter leave happier.
Except Aura doesn't remember signing up for their treatment plans. In fact, s...
The hallways were as empty and white as the room I woke up in. No matter how much I ran, I didn't seem to find anything but closed doors staring back at me. And yet, I kept running — running on the hopes that if I was fast enough, I could somehow find a way out of here.
Wherever I was.
All I knew is that the mechanical voice from the tablet told me I wasn't allowed to leave. I wished more than anything to be able to call again — to find my courage to speak instead of tapping random things on the screen. Maybe if I had asked the right question, I'd be free.
The more I explored my surroundings, the more it felt like I was a mouse in a labyrinth. That my body and mind were not my own and that I was part of some elaborate experiment. When alone with your thoughts for so long, the brain was eager to fabricate a new reality to stay content.
I knew it was irrational — my thoughts had become more nonsensical the more I let them wander. Who was to say I was awake at this very moment? Who was to say my sleep-deprived brain wasn't responsible, and this wasn't just a twisted dream I created to keep myself entertained?
My head spun with endless possibilities. If this wasn't reality, was it an illusion? An elaborate prank? If I found the hidden cameras, would I win a million dollars? Or was it something more sinister than that? Had I been kidnapped and forced to stay here against my will?
While my thoughts continued to spiral out of control, my legs fought to keep up with them.
I thought I could keep going like this for as long as it took, but at a certain point, the pain in my legs grew too much. It couldn't be ignored anymore, so I had to pause to allow my body to rest.
It felt like so long since I ran like this. Or maybe I used to run a lot and I just didn't remember. Maybe in my past — or current — life, I was a runner. Maybe it was what I lived for. The way I moved, it felt so natural. The way my legs burned was so familiar. Like I was used to running.
But why couldn't I remember anything about my past?
That question had been nagging me for as long as I could remember. That question and this place, I decided, must be connected in some way. Maybe there was someone here who knew what happened to me. Maybe there was someone I could somehow convince to... help me.
I glanced left and right, half-expecting someone to jump out of nowhere and surprise me but no one was there. Maybe it was late at night and no one was around to take me away. Was that lucky for me or unlucky since I'd be alone for who knows how many hours before I found life again?
Instead of allowing myself to ponder the significance of my isolation, I forced myself to stand up again. Now was not the time to think. Now was the time for action and maybe answers, depending on how lucky I was. If I hadn't yet been caught, then maybe I did have some luck.
Before I could pick up my running pace again, I looked ahead and found an open door just a few feet away. My eyes widened. It was the first door I had seen that was left wide open like that. Maybe it was fate that wanted me to enter this room. Maybe fate made me stop running, too.
I walked towards the door and tiptoed inside, slightly hesitant at what I might find. My heart raced, and as much as I wanted to curl up in my bed, I knew I had to take this step forward.
As soon as I stepped inside, I was filled with regret. The toilet and sink stared back at me, almost mocking me with their presence. This wasn't what I wanted to find. This was the very last thing I'd expect to find. This was the place I intended to leave — the place I ran away from.
After all that running, I somehow managed to get back to where I started. It's like I never left, but I did leave. I did run. I still felt the effects of that run in my legs. I was sure I'd be sore... at some point. It did happen. It was real. But where was the person who was lying here before?
Fear crept into my veins as I slinked to the ground. Had I really escaped or was I back in my white room, sleeping soundly? Was this just a dream within a dream or was this reality?
I knew there had to be an explanation for this but I couldn't keep myself calm enough to think rationally. My head was spinning with thoughts and feelings and everything was happening so fast even though I swear I was sitting on the ground and I couldn't slow my mind down.
It wasn't a new thing for me to question my reality but this exacerbated it. Something about losing everything got to me in a way that nothing else could. Even though I couldn't remember what my life was like, I still felt the pain of losing it — as if I was grieving myself and who I was.
If I had no memories, I had no identity and if I had no identity, could I even call myself a human anymore? I had emotions, I think. Or at least I thought I could feel things. Right now, I could feel a lot of things but I didn't have the right words for them. I still felt them though.
People always say that experiences shape a person, and the things that you go through as you grow up shape the person you become. But what if the foundation broke? What if it was gone?
What if all you were left with... was rubble?
Maybe I was just building blocks, once whole, but torn apart to become something new.
Or maybe I was just an illusion — a vision of something that once was and never can be again.
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A recently out divorcée must explore his identity and how to not be the straight-acting man he's been his whole life. Just when he has found his footing, a flamboyant trans man jumbles up his ideas about what it means to be gay, to be masculine, to be a man.
