Timeless

Timeline One

03/30/2029

I can't believe I'm actually going to do this. I sat in the hospital hallway, hunched over with my elbows resting on my knees– my right leg bouncing uncontrollably– and my thumbs holding my head between my eyebrows. I counted the tiles on the floor below. Still, I stopped after an hour and a half because the fluorescent lights reflecting off the linoleum started burning my eyes.

"You would definitely think this is insane if you were here," I whispered to myself. I took deep breaths to try and control my breathing. How long does it take to get everything together, I thought, narrowing my brows. The doctor said it would only take 30 minutes– an hour at most– but I have been sitting outside of this goddamn room for almost two hours.

"We're ready for you now." A scratchy voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up from my hands at the older doctor– he was a thin man with thick glasses, and it seemed that he had more white hair coming out of his ears than he did on his head. I stood up with a deep breath and stretched my arms and back before following the doctor into the room. It was dark– the only visible light seen was from the heart monitor and anesthesia machine– with one bed in the middle. The few nurses– only three to four– were clustered around both machines to make sure they were working correctly. There were four chairs in a straight line on the left side of the bed, with people in lab coats sitting in them, holding clipboards.

"I have to ask you a couple of questions before starting," the doctor said, taking his pen from the front pocket of his lab coat and lifting his clipboard.

"Did you fast last night?" he asked.

"Yes." I answered.

"Have you been going to the scheduled meetings with the referred psychologist?"

"Yes."

"And finally, do you understand that this is only an experimental medical and scientific procedure?"

"Yes." He finished writing his last remark and discussed something with the nurses over by the machines.

One of the men in the chairs started walking toward me, and when he was in front of me, he stopped. He held his hand out and said, "My name is Nathaniel Braum. I am one of the scientists that-"

I interrupted him, "Can we start now?" I brushed past the man, ignoring his outstretched hand, and lay on the bed. With the doctor's order, I was connected to the machines by the nurses. The nurses put the heart monitor stickers on my chest– and one on my finger. I rolled up the sleeve on my right arm and looked at the black line tattoos covering my arm– I thought about how I had gotten more since the day we met, and now they covered from my wrist to my shoulder– and a blood pressure cuff was wrapped around my right arm. The scientist I had previously interrupted rolled in a heavy-looking machine, and he tediously placed the connected pads on my head. He tried explaining how the machine worked, but I didn't care, so I ignored him. I didn't need to know; all I needed to know was that it would let me see you again. The nurse put a mask on me and instructed me to take deep breaths.

"Okay, I'm just going to need you to count down from ten, and you'll fall asleep soon," she said. I stared at the dark ceiling and started counting.

"Ten."

"Nine."

"Eight."

"Seven."

I started to feel lightheaded.

"Six..." I slurred, the numbers becoming more challenging to say as my heavy eyes closed, and I could hardly hear the beeping of the heart monitor.

"Five," I whispered.

Everything went quiet.