Before You Go (Sequel to The Visitor)

iii. The Sky Comes Tumbling Down

Consciousness was a curse. It was strange how Annie swam toward it, struggling, pushing against the black mass of unknown; but as soon as she broke the surface of quiet calm into consciousness, she regretted it. Consciousness was pain. Nothing else.

Annie struggled against the darkness, trying to grasp anything other than pain. Everything beyond the edges of the pain was murky, like vision underwater, or slurred, like the Doctor when he was really tired.

Pain was the only constant, and she found herself sadistically clinging to it. It was at least some semblance of sanity in her murky existence between consciousness and the unknown. She clung to it. When her mind stopped reeling, she tried to connect the pain to her body- if indeed she still had a body. But it seemed to be more engulfing than anything, too vast to connect with any one part of herself.

Without much hope of success, Annie tried again to place the pain in something real, something corporeal, but body parts (their names and locations) seemed to be beyond her minds reach. She tried another track. How had she come to be here? What was here? When was here? But time, space, location- all eluded her.

The first thing Annie was able to grasp was a smell. It was acrid, tangy and burning. Every breath she took in was painful, thick and smoky.

Annie could feel unconsciousness dragging her down again, and she struggled against it. She couldn't shake the feeling that if she closed her eyes, she wouldn't be able to open them again. She pushed against the crushing pain that was threatening to engulf her.

Her body was giving out and the blackness started to creep up on the edges of her vision. Just as she finally lost consciousness, she realized the source of her pain with a flash of panic.

She had landed.