Looking Blindly

Ding!

There was a strange feeling when you wake up two times in a row in a short time. Your mind gets all fuzzy and you're disoriented. You don't know what's going on around you or where the hell you are. You feel sore and your muscles feel cramped.

It's like the feeling you get when you come back from a long trip, you're just out of an airplane, you're jetlagged and you go to sleep at two in the afternoon even though you hate sleeping by day, and then you wake up at six PM.

Simply described, the feeling is shit. You are shit. Your body is shit. Your mind is shit. Everything is shit.

That's how I was feeling when I came to consciousness again.

It was different this time though, a few things weren't the same as before. The first being that right now, I was located in a closed area. A room of sorts. And that was a huge difference and improvement compared to the fucking forest floor I was lying on earlier.

I noticed that I was lying on something semi soft, softer than the ground at least, but while I hoped it was a bed and not a pile of corpses, I realized that no one would consider this a fucking bed because it was as hard as a piece of wood with a piece of cloth draped over it.

I apparently never liked hard beds no thought that anyone could actually like hard beds.

Ding! You get a point for remembering that you were an arrogant asshole.

I couldn't focus on the bed too much though, because as soon as my mind started working at a normal speed- a bit slower maybe- every feeling of pain and every feeling of agony came back to me all at once. It hit me hard and made me open my eyes.

That, in turn, made me take in the very bright room too soon and I gasped, momentarily blinded by both pain and white light to be able to do anything other than lie there with my mouth agape.

A second, two seconds, three, four, seven, ten, thirty, a minute and my sight slowly started coming back to me.

Not all at once, mostly just blurry shapes and muted colors, but when it did come back fully, I noticed that the room wasn't all that bright at all.

Rain was pouring hard now, thumping a strong rhythm on the roof of the house? room? Bunker? Whatever the fuck it was.

There was only one window in the room I was in, located directly above the bed. It was big, but I couldn't say exactly how big. The only light in the room came from that window, and there wasn't that much light at all.

Pain, agony and temporary blindness, when you think about it, were nothing, are nothing, compared to the burning hunger that came over me next. It wasn't normal, that hunger, not normal at all, but it was there.

It started in my stomach, as if piercing me with a spear or a thousand little knives, and then it became molten, hot lava that spread through my body like a wildfire. It went to my throat, my lungs, my legs, my head, my arms, fuck, it felt like I was burning.

Like I was burning and like I was being stabbed at the same time and it wasn't stopping. No matter what, it wasn't stopping, it was getting worse.

I did the only thing I could do- I screamed.

It didn't help any, and it made the pain in my throat even worse, but I couldn't stop. Couldn't bring myself to shut my mouth and rationalize. There was no rationalizing now. Not while pain was the only thing on my mind.

The sound that shot out of my throat was raw and painful and I felt as if I was shouting my grief and my pain and my everything up to the world.

And as if the world head me, it sent me a pair of strong chains. They wrapped around me tightly and heaved me upwards towards something firm and warm. I didn't stop screaming.