Terminally Abstract

Chapter 13.5

"I don't even know who I am anymore."

 I hesitated before looking at my reflection once more.

"Hey, Lanky! What's going on?"

"Lanky" merely shrugged. Figures, if I'm unsure, he'd be as well.

CRICK! CRACK!

There were snaps of glass and a howling sound underneath, the sky getting darker and darker. I noticed Lanky's horrified face, placing his hand up to my own. It was slowly deteriorating, fizzling into smoke.

Underneath churned like a cement like paste, ribbons of soot highlighting its intense visuals; suddenly, the ribbons began to intertwine between Lanky's limbs, tightening with every shudder leaving his body.

"Lanky, get out of there!" I hollered, pointing to my level, suggesting he'd teleport over.

He shook his head in disagreement, yet without despair.

"Thank you." was all he whispered before the ribbons dragged his body into the abyss.

"What?! Lanky! Lanky, no!" And there I am, alone once more.

SNAP!

The last shard of glass maintaining my weight shattered, sending me flailing with Lanky.

The scattered air loosened my lungs, confusing my systematic breaths. The wind flapping through my navy blue sweater like paper.

All I could see was darkness, there was no sight of light anywhere. As I began to caress myself in comfort, the wind, as if disrobing an infant,  began to lift my sweater. Doing so, it revealed my shirt, a soft hue of yellow. I had forgotten about my favorite color, overrun by a depressing shade of blue.

I slowly raised my arms, allowing consent for the wind to reveal another insightful message about myself.

My protective layer  shed away, leaving me with a newfound releasing feeling, even if I couldn't see it in the vast darkness. How Arthur could wear void like colors on his favorite days. I thought. But, how these colors we place upon ourselves have such an impact on others' views, when in the end, we were all mixes of countless ones.

I exhaled a slow, warm breath, sending a puff cloud of vapor from my lips. I couldn't feel whether it was cold or not, only the floating feeling in my gut.

Then, I felt a sickening weight in my brain, telling my mind to shut off; that I was too tired, that I should sleep for a while.

Minutes began to feel like hours into days, up to months, and across speeding dates. As I was drifting off to sleep, I heard a voice echo through the tunnel.

"Michael!"

My eyes remained shut.

"Michael! You've got to wake up before it's too late! I thought about what you said, but I- I don't know what to do! Your brain is dying, and if you don't wake up soon, they'll upgrade your chip, taking over more percentage of your mind! Michael, wake up! Please, I'm begging you."

I heard muffled sniffs of a stuffy nose and the light tapping of water droplets. I felt my hand growing in warmth, with the opposite side of my face as well.

My eyes dragged themselves open. I was losing thought from the sudden voice, pressuring my mind to speak.

"Art-" I mumbled. I meant to say his name, yet only that has slipped out before I felt a soft pressing along my forehead.

"Michael? Was that you?"

I couldn't respond in time before the warmth left my hand and face.

"Sir, it's time to go now." a woman spoke.

"Don't worry, Michael. I'll try to make this right. I know what to do now."

Wait. What did he mean? I started to feel drowsy when I saw a bright beam of light entering from the top of the tunnel; another appearing to the rear as well. It seemed to be a race, competing to see which beam could lay a ray upon me first.

The light from behind advanced toward me quicker than the other, embracing me in a blinding white light. I felt the moist feel of humidity in the air and the soft dew of morning grass.

I opened my eyes to find bark spewing into trickles of leaves.

I smiled and watched the sun hover at an angle to cast a shadow upon my face.

The tree. I smirked. Our tree.