Chapter 1

Eternal Awakening, Chapter 1

Slowly I walked, taking each step carefully almost methodically. I knew what awaited me at the other side and I knew it was a fate I didn't deserve, one I'd already been condemned to a hundred times before. But somehow I didn't care, I didn't have the urge to fight it or run away from it. All I wanted was for it to be over; this ordeal - this journey - was almost over. The outcome wasn't what I'd hoped but I didn't care I'd been through so much and my torture, my destiny was almost over about to amount itself to an end. So slowly I walked, walked to my destiny, my fate, I walked to my death. 

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"Life had been so normal up until two weeks ago - I'd been so normal - that was, until everything changed. I was just your average 14 year old, going to school, doing homework and hanging out with friends. Life was as per usual and that was the way I liked it. It's funny in a way that I didn't notice how much I liked just my normal, average life until it was gone. It wasn't until my life changed so drastically that I realised just how comforting normal was and how frightening and malevolent life can be. Here in this book is my last testament, to he who will undoubtedly repeat my misdoings, read this, learn from my mistakes, and enjoy your life in whatever form it takes. For you never know when it will change for better or more often for worse!"

I shivered as I read that last sentence, whoever had written this had surely been through quite an ordeal and the extent that it had changed them frightened me, but there was one thing that bugged me. The author had said "Here in this book" but all I held was a tattered sheet of paper, where was the rest of this book, the rest of this testament? How did it come into my possession? The earliest thing I remember was waking up yesterday in this room, in this bed with this paper clutched in my hand, not knowing where I was or where I'd come from. All I knew was my name 'Jamie'. Suddenly there was a knock on my door I looked up from the piece of tattered paper as Sandra came in with my breakfast. Sandra was a plump middle-aged lady who seemed to have an aura of happiness surrounding her. It streamed from the smile she beamed towards me and lingered in the sincerity of her words. "Good morning Sandra" I croaked my throat still sore from a forgotten injury, "How are things today?" "You know same old, patients to be tended to, Doctors to be helped" she replied in that soft voice of hers, one that surely belonged to a mother.  

She wheeled her trolley into the room handing me a bowl of cereal and a cup of orange juice which I politely placed on the portable bench. "Any news on what might of happened to me or when I'm going to be discharged?" I asked anxiously, it had only been one day but this room was starting to make me claustrophobic and I was intrigued to find out what had happened to me, to make me forget so much. She shook her head "I'm afraid not." 

"Even if there was, I doubt they would tell me." I was silent for a moment; I didn't expect her to know anything but I had hoped. Once I got myself together I thanked Sandra for coming and asked her to leave "I need to sleep" was my excuse. I listened as she closed the door behind her, the solid thud of a thick wooden door was the first noise I heard echo in my room. The Next was the haunting echo of that click coming from within the thick mass. The metallic click that for some reason sounded sadistic in my ears, what was this forsaken noise? The click echoed in my room for what seemed like forever, toying with my mind as I sat there in unknowing fear like an animal that sensed an unseen predator. Finally I got to sleep but that chilling noise stayed with me long into my dreams. Click, click, click.

Days passed and nothing, no news on my past, no news on how I came to get these injuries- injuries that were quickly and miraculously fading- only more lies from the doctors on why they didn't know and why they couldn't investigate. I don't know how but I could tell they were lying - like a sixth sense - but I knew every word they said was one full with misleading intention, but why? I had no idea. Finally after almost two weeks I procured a piece of information. Sandra had been listening in on a conference, listening to the doctors muttering about me. Everything they said was quiet, barely above a whisper - or so Sandra told me - Sandra said it was as if they feared someone hearing anything about me, like I was some illegal fugitive. Despite the secretive fashion of the doctors meeting Sandra was able to snatch a piece of information, something about it being impossible for a 14 year old boy to withstand injuries of such magnitude. She had tried to listen more but one of those creatures that call themselves doctors saw her outside the room. According to Sandra it had been imperative that she scurry away before she was caught.

So I now knew my age, I knew that I had suffered injuries, injuries that should have rendered me dead buried in the metaphorical ground by medical standards, but I wasn't, I was here alive and that in itself was a mystery. 

The days turned into weeks as I lay in this room staring at the ceiling and walls, how I hadn't gone mad was by all means incredible. This room with its stark white portable bench, one plain and claustrophobically small bathroom and finally the white bed with its white sheets and white pillow all contained in this bare, white room. For months I had laid in this room, my white prison. Listening every time the doctors left, closing the solid door. Listening to the doors now familiar thud, confirming its solidity and that metallic click, the one that had so miraculously unnerved me in my second day. That click that told me I was trapped the one that sounded as if it came from Satan's mouth. One thing had changed since that day though, I didn't sit in unknowing, undefined fear for now I knew what this noise was. That sadistic click was the noise of a lock being put in place, ensuring I would never leave this room and no one except the doctors would enter, this realisation started my paranoia.

I found out nothing more about myself and Sandra had suspiciously been suspended from medical practice, on the grounds of negligence. My paranoia towards the doctors - or as I spat in their faces, when they tried to test on me 'demons'- became even worse than when I remembered about the lock. I started to refuse blood tests and scans for fear that they would try to poison or experiment on me. The Doctors would force me to participate, strap me down if they needed me conscious or sedate me if it didn't matter, either way they got what they needed and either way my hope of leaving dwindled even further. I had come to terms with the fact that I may be stuck here till my dying day and my only hope was that would be sooner rather than later. 

It had been here six months and the only good that had happened was my throat was feeling better, I hadn't eaten anything for 6 weeks (I believed the doctors were trying to poison me) and I was still unaware of my personal identity. One day during the fourth month I decided to go through the few personal items I had. Most of which were tattered clothing or meaningless objects engraved in a language I didn't understand (I owned two such objects). The only item that meant anything to me was the tattered page, the one I'd been clutching when I first woke, I hadn't read it since day two of my awakening, I decide now was as good a time as any to revisit. I read it about three times scouring it for information; there were a few things that popped out at me. The first the mystery of where the rest of the book was, another was the fact that the author and I shared the same age and the obviousness that whoever wrote this had been through an ordeal, a terrible ordeal in the matter of two weeks, one they had never been through before but knew that whoever had possession of the book would undoubtedly go through also. I shivered at the thought that I may be the one handed this fate next, but could anything be worse than the torment I suffered already? Exhausted from thinking I fell asleep.

"BEEP! BEEP!, BEEP! BEEP!" I jumped off my bed startled by the noise. Trying to find out what the cause was I looked around, all the lights in my room were off except for a flashing red beacon. It meant something, something important but I couldn't remember what. I was frustrated with myself, a terrible thing might be happening but I wouldn't know because I couldn't remember, I knew nothing. Then it came to me, it just jumped into my mind like a thought placed there by an invisible force it was a, fire alarm. Immediately I rushed to my door, surprisingly it was unlocked, that immediately sent shockwaves through me - the fire must be awful if they forgot to lock my door. Quick as light I ran out of my room only to find the hospital had been deserted. No one was here, no doctors, no nurses, no patients, only me. I had been forgotten left to die in the inevitable inferno that was to follow. I had never been out of my room; I was unaware of the exits or the escape routes.

I scoured the surrounding area, looking and hoping that I'd find what I wanted; an exit. Nothing popped out at me and in my state of panic it was impossible to understand the signs in front of me. Not thinking straight and feeling deserted, unwanted, I thought for a second maybe it would be easier for me and for everyone else if I just sat here and burned. What if I let the fire come to me let it engulf me in the inferno and let it take my life. In that moment this thought, this insane thought became my decision. I began to descend towards the ground, crossing my legs and sitting as a small child would while awaiting his teacher's instructions, the only difference between me and this imagined child was that I did not wait for instruction for I knew what I was to do. Instead I waited for my fiery killer to engulf me.