New Life

My eyes open to a nothingness.

Pure white.

That's all I see. It burns, the white.

A light begins to shine in front of me. My eyes burn.

I'm scared. Where are they? They should be near.

"Help!" I scream in the silence, but my scream started an onslaught.

Not from me but from the nothingness, from the pure white.

SCREAMS, CRIES, LAUGHS.

I burn.

"It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!"

I wake in a puddle of my own sweat. My heart is beating fast, and my breathing is even faster. It takes my mind a few seconds to catch up, to realize that nothing is wrong.

It was all a dream.

No. A nightmare.

A horrible nightmare.

A mixture of tears and sweat floods my eyes. I can't see until I work up the strength to lift my hand and wipe the water away. For some reason, my body struggles. A pain that doesn't hurt assaults my mind, but I push through it.

What is this pain?

Fear.

That's what I think.

I'm scared I'll see that white again, but I don't.

I'm surrounded in black. Black walls and blacks furniture. It makes me happy to see so much black. The room is small. I lay in a petite bed, one barely able to hold me. Beside me is a dresser void of anything; it's like it has no reason other than to take up room. A small table sits across from the bed. Besides that, a bookshelf stands tall with twenty or so books in it. A fan hangs from the roof, but it doesn't spend. Not a single light is on.

This place is not familiar to me, nor is it unknown. I know I've seen it before, however, my memories are vague. I've woken up here before, but I don't remember if I ever left. It's not "my" room, not the one in "my" house at least. I don't remember ever-shifting my body around to leave this bed as I do now.

Have I always gone back to sleep?

Back to that nightmare?

I shake my head and stand. My feet are weak. My legs shake under me. I have to lean on the bed to stay standing.

How long has it been?

I don't know.

Slowly, I start towards the only door. It is close, but the walk takes minutes in my head. My mind is still fuzzy, but I put my hand around the doorknob and pull.

A light burst in.

"Daddy." I call out as my eyes adjust.

But he's not there. The doorway only leads to another room, almost as vacant of signs of life as the one I woke in. Nothing but furniture that look to never have been touch. Empty walls. Empty tables. Empty shelves.

But, there is one thing that stands out.

A boy, sitting on the floor.

Two stacks of books are laid out in front of him, one to his left and one his right. A bookmark lays on top of the right tower, the one slightly shorter. The books themselves are random in a way. Some are thick, while others are short. Some have pictures on their covers and spines, while others don't.