Off the Edge

Insanity Note #6

"Mom! Take me back! Take me back there! I have to save the bees!" I yell at her, every breath I take is as painful as rubbing my neck with a sharpened stone. Matthew still looks scared of me as does mother, but she comes to me with open arms and says, "I'm sorry, honey."

And then I hear something. Something loud in my ears and I can't get it to stop. It's like a buzzing, ringing sound that makes my whole world spin and my ears bleed. I start to scream so I can hear something other than the awful noise filling my head. Although I can see Matthew cover his ears and mother step back, I don't hear myself screaming. So I scream louder. I watch as the demon starts to leave, taking mother and not-father with her. I scream some more and pound my head against the wall. "NO!" I screech, still not hearing anything but horrible squealing and buzzing. "ITS THE BEES!" They need me! My throat starts to ache, raw from screaming. But there is nothing I can do. No matter how loud I scream my ears will still be overflowing with angry, dying bees and horrible winds that squeal when they push through the cracks in my brain. Help! Help me! I whisper in my mind, now unable to attempt to block out the sounds that penetrate my sanity.

And then suddenly, I can't breath. My throat is clogged, my air tube broken. I gasp for breath but only manage to blow out more than half the air I already had stored. "Can't... Breathe..." I say, using my last bit of air. And then I can't bang on the walls anymore because my whole body is focused on taking in air that can never be mine again. I don't even register that the buzzing sound is going away, only that the world around me is starting to go black, first the corners of my vision and then the rest. I see a great light, but not one of Heaven as if I were to die. I see a green light. It comes with flowers and other sorts of plants. All glowing, ready to greet me. Maybe this is my Heaven. Maybe I am dead and this is some kind of twisted Hell.

Then I fall.

I would say that the wind was taken out of me, but there was no wind to take out. As soon as I sit up, my back in pain and my nerves on edge, I gasp for air and in return earn a mouthful of water. Now I really can't breathe. Using all the energy I have left, I swim upward. Or at least I assume it's upward. I honestly can't tell. My eyes won't open. I don't register the liquid that fills my lungs as I gasp for breath. I swim for what seems like longer than I should have, given all the water that I'm taking in. The only thing keeping me going is the sickening feeling that I have to. With my eyes closed and no air to keep my head straight, I can't tell what kind of liquid I am submerged in, although I assume by the bland taste that it's water. There is no way to tell if I am swimming up or down. There is no way to tell if I am even moving.

And then I feel it.

I break free from the water and feel air on my skin. Thick, rich, clean, fresh air is all around me as I choke, trying to take it all in. Now my eyes open and I can see where I am. I am in a clear pond, surrounded by a field of wild flowers. Mountains can be faintly seen in the distance and there are no clouds in the sky. I smile, a warm feeling of security washing over me. My feet dig into the wet soil and smooth pebbles underneath the water. That's when I realize that I can stand.

I was once in a lake so deep that it took me eons to swim to the surface. Now I am standing in a pond only a few feet deep with stones underneath my toes. The only thing stranger than that is the fact that the top half of my body is completely dry. My clothing, my hair, it all feels as though it's never been touched by a liquid in its life. And as I step out of the water and into the shore, I notice that my pants and socks are not soaking or even dripping. They, too, look as if they have never come in contact with water in years. To be truthful, I look dirty and dry. So dirty that it may appear as if I haven't bathed in over a week and my clothing hasn't been washed in the same amount of time.

And whats more, I'm thirsty. Considering that I just swam in an ocean full of water, gulping down as much of the liquid as I could gasp up, I shouldn't be so incredulously parched. But my tongue is too dry and I feel as though I am shriveling up like a raisin.

I bend down and take gulp in the water. It tastes dry, if that's even possible. The water only makes me more thirsty, only swells my throat more. I have never felt this kind of weakness, this kind of need. I've never starved and I've never not had anything to drink. This feeling is all new to me. Fat tears run down my face, ironically being very liquid. I lick them when they trickle down to my mouth, my tongue now so dry that I don't know if I can speak. Soon my throat will clog and swell so much that I will no longer be able to breathe. I'm going to die, I think to myself. I'm going to die of dehydration next to a good sized body of water. If it could have, a laugh would have escaped me at that moment. For I found it absolutely astonishing to go out this way.

I lay out on the beach to the dreaded pond that nearly drowned me and then drained me. Expecting death to come, I dare not fight. I take one last breath and then let the peace of unconsciousness take over.