Archived

Before

*click*

"Oh- um come in."

the person had said muffled behind the door, The door creaked as I went to open it, his face was distraught. He clearly wasn't expecting me.
His appearance looked pretty formal, wearing a light green button up over it and a brown sweater vest having small gold accents on the folds of the collar of the shirt.

"Sorry, aren't you Jonathan sims?"

"Yes?"

"I was recommended?"

I held out the business card, had him give a Quick Look at it, had him immediately know, at least in this instance and brought out an old looking tape recorder.

"It's not a worry lots of people come by."

Placing a tape into the small recorder he slowly closed the cartridge containing it.

"Um, do you mind before we?"

"Oh, not at all."

"It's just I have to record the statement, it's business policy."

"No, go right ahead."

*click*

"Weird..it was already on?..sorry about that Statement of."

"Marcus, Marcus Bourne."

He cleared his throat as he looked down to the tape recorder then to me again as I sat quietly in that old wooden chair.

"Statement of Marcus Bourne regarding, could you explain exactly?"

I sighed as I rubbed over my layered arms

"It happened a while ago..it just I can't really explain it in multiple words, it was very captivating? No that is not the right word..trap filled."

"And how long ago?"

"Right before I had started classes at Regent's University? for private studies? Last fall I think?, I guess I didn't know what stress could behold such a place other than your own personal work, but I could tell this was not a field of stress, it was dreadful. or maybe helplessness? I'm still not sure, it's a whole thing.
But with what happened on the field that night at one of the football tournaments.I went onto the field with my dorm mate Jordan and I could just feel emptiness, and the feeling of a sense of loneliness, only seeing was fog. I get that It was cold and it had been raining for several hours that night but this fog could be thicker than my own blood. I couldn't see any of the teams or Jordan. I could walk for miles and still be in the same spot. Only walking and walking until I stumbled on a figure I could probably make out as one of the players, yes, but they were just gone.

Looking up at the field lights I could see that no time had passed. seeing that the lights still blared under me. I was starting to get worried, if i couldn't see the players how could they see me in the middle of the field? backing up I tried to clear my senses but bumped into an old man with a cane, He stared at me with decrepit eyes. asking for remorse and help, or just to see if he could guide me off the field.

Even if he couldn't see as well as I could, no help was shown and he just faded in the smog filled air. Only Soon enough I could feel a swift feeling like I was becoming ill and started to sit down, I could feel the bleach's back behind me and I just sat there for hours, feeling ill and scared of what could be happening.

I fell asleep there just before hearing the halftime buzzer, quickly waking me up and seeing Jordan infront of me. His face being full of worry."

"Statement ends."

I started to hug myself then hold my shoulder as I stared at the desk.

"I felt far away, alone."
He looked to me looking in understanding knowing what I mean or at least trying to.

"Have you tried talking to a therapist?"

"I can't, I don't trust them."

"I see, the Institute recommends good ones."

" Again I can't trust them."

He then looked down into one of his desk drawers, pulling out a business card sliding to my side of the desk.

"You can always just throw it out but just an idea."

"Thank you."

*click*