Journey

03: Presence (H)

The White Space.

I've been living here for as long as I can remember.

For as long as I can remember?

Foolishly, I look around the White Space, attempting to search for something new in the room, something I haven't seen here yet.

A single pink bed, a table accompanied with a chair, a dark-lit and malfunctioning bulb and a sketch book where I've painted all my pain and misery away...

Then, there's a bigger table. The table is carved out of oak wood, and it takes on the shape of a circle. Throughout the table, on each ends of it, there are four chairs placed around it accordingly. It's quite a normal setup for a round-shaped table, it works efficiently and is comfortable.

...

It's also familiar. Really familiar.

This table, these chairs, the aura...

There's something about this table that stands out from others. Something about it seems to pang on my heart, as if I'm supposed to realise something, yet my naivety shields me from figuring out what the truth behind it is.

As I approach the table, a wave of nostalgia hits me like a strong gush of wind. It's strange, but there's something about this table that feels like it's trying to tell me something important. Like there's a puzzle waiting to be solved, but I'm too clueless to figure it out.

I'm drawn to the table as if it's calling my name, and as I walk towards it more, the lighting around it seems to change, almost like it's highlighting one specific chair. It's like that chair is the key to unlocking whatever mystery this table is hiding.

With a mix of fear and uncertainty, I make my way to the spotlighted chair and take a seat, wondering what secrets this table has been keeping all this time.

"Close your eyes, Hussaiba."

An unseen voice resonates through the White Space, prompting my body to instinctively comply before I could even think of a reaction as my eyes shut tight. A rush of anticipation and curiosity fills me, wondering what awaits in this moment of darkness.

"Keep them closed until I say you can open them."

The voice, once eerie and mysterious and seeming like it belonged to a ghastly presence, now takes on a familiar and nostalgic tone. It's the voice of a man, yet I struggle to place who it belongs to or why it feels so familiar; nevertheless, I obey, keeping my eyes tightly shut and waiting for further instructions.

"This might be a little scary, but you'll be safe. You've gotta trust me here, okay?"

Instinctively, I nod in response to the man's words, a mix of apprehension and curiosity bubbling within me. Taking a few deep breaths, I brace myself for whatever awaits, trusting in the reassurance of safety that the man has promised, though I'm not fully sure if I could trust him.

Then, the White Space starts to shake.

Not just shake, but rumble.

The gentle whispers of the abyss fade into the roaring winds, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable in the tumultuous surroundings. As the White Space begins to dissolve into mere particles, its serene silence is replaced by the sound of the space falling apart, destroying nonchalantly my sanctuary, my headspace, my only source of happiness.

Headspace?

"The White Space isn't real. It's just a figment of your imagination, it's an alternate world you have created in your own mind to escape the truths of reality, to run away from what you don't want to face."