Burn ▹ Ashton Irwin

three

Within an hour upon my last, I thought that I was dead. I had fallen unconscious just moments after I could process what had happened to myself minutes before. In the moment when I had passed out, I was scared, confused, and had a blistering realization in the back of my mind that I was going to die. It was an obvious assumption of me...I only had a few seconds to really think about the fact that I had been chased, captured, and thrown into the back of an old car by two strangers with horrifying looks on their faces. How could I not think that I was going to die?

But... now, that hours have probably passed by and I was only half "asleep", I was in the present. I no longer felt that I had died and that everything I felt was the feeling of loosing my soul. Instead, even though I felt like I was on the verge of drifting into a deep and paiful sleep once again, I felt as if I was in a trance. I could feel myself breathe, weakly hear myself think, but at the same time I had no strength to open my eyes or think about where I was or what has happened in the time that I was too unconscious to remember. Right now, I felt almost like I was at peace, or something. I was too weak and out of it to fully understand that I was obviously not anywhere near my home. And, as I layed there...or sat there, I couldn't process what I was doing with my eyes shut and my mind 50% shut down...I felt that I was somewhere completely different than where I actually was.

For some reason, my trance brought me back to the comfort of my bed. Yeah... my cozy, comfortable, and familiar bed that I have always really liked waking up in. My slumberous mind made me picture myself getting up, feeling relaxed and ready to start my ordinary day. I thought about what it's like to wake up, take a nice warm shower, and walk down the accustomed sidewalks of New York to get to my little job. The things that I do everyday are so routine, that as I was still completely out of it and too frail to do anything...picturing these events felt surprisingly relaxing.

I imagined myself slowly and steadily walking down the busy sidewalk to get to work. It was a hazy image in my mind, but I could still picture the way everything looks every morning. I imagined the faces of strangers that I always took a few seconds to look at. This casted a feeling of nostalgia over my lethargic body, and I felt very peaceful...

But all at once, the images in my head vanished. That tired, languid, and out-of-it feeling that I have had for quite some time was quickly drained out of me. Reality was a literal brick wall, slapping against my face and causing my eyes to shoot open. I let out an airless gasp, and my heart leaped up to get itself to start beating again. Well, it's clearly been beating this whole time, but I could finally feel it thumping and pounding in my chest. My consciousness was finally fully back inside of me, and all at once I was able to process what was needed to be processed in my mind.

Along with my vigorously beating heart, came my light and weak attempts to get some air into my lungs. I could luckily hear myself breathe now, but I was panting like a diseased dog. I blinked my eyes, over and over again to focus them out. My head whipped from side to side, my chest heaved up and down, and I made my best attempts to look around my surroundings.

At this point, I could finally look at the reality: I was absolutely, positively, most definitely not in my apartment. Even though my dreamful self liked to think that I was so I could remain calm just minutes ago, I now realize that the images of my warm bed and usual commute to work were all just figments of my imagination... a way to keep myself mentally stable, while I waited for myself to fully wake up.

Now, I have fully woken up. I remember how I had passed out after I was thrown into that dirty and old escalade, due to my dizziness and absolute shock. I shut my eyes again, and I could now picture everything that had happened maybe just a couple hours ago. I remember hearing the shuffling feet, hearing their mean voices, and running for my dear life from them. I remember the hopeless and broken looks they had on their facial features, their strong grips on my helpless body, and I remembered how much I begged and pleaded for them to let go of me. Everything that happened after just another usual day at work was so vivid in my mind, it made my eyes shoot open again, in hopes to erase those images out of my head.