Mr. Edwards

Introduction to the Mind of "Mr. Edwards"

Something buzzed around me. Scratch that. Inside of me. My ears rang and sent my brain into a state of panic as I struggled to sit up and take my environment in. Slowly looking around I managed to pick out the sun shining through dusty, cracked windows as the source of light while my eyes adjusted to the dim lit room. Aside from some scattered crates and chains the large room was barren. Groaning I arose and slowly spun around looking for an exit from wherever I was. I squinted and spotted a rusted door on the far side.

Tripping over myself I stumbled groggily towards the door, becoming painfully aware of a throbbing headache, and the general soreness of my body. As I neared the way out, the buzzing I first felt as I awoke presented itself once again, but this time it was nearly unbearable and caused my entire body to shake. Doubling over, I violently began gagging as the pain seemed to press me in from all sides, attempting to push everything inside me out. When my body finally stopped shaking I spit the sour taste out of my mouth, and flung the sweat off my forehead. The pain was still alive in me, but I just groaned it away and trudged wearily towards escape, guiding myself with nearby crates to keep from collapsing.

Grasping the corroded handle I jiggled and twisted a few times before giving up. I leaned, exhausted, against the doorway and for the first time took in what I was wearing: a tattered, dirtied, hospital gown. Confusion set inside me, and I began fearfully scratching at the door, clawing long strips of wood off and splintering the undersides of my fingernails.

“Mr. Edwards.”

Voices echoed through my skull, each one drilling deeper and deeper into me. Slowly escalating from a chorus of whispers to vibrant, blood curdling screams.

“Mr. Edwards. We’re all here, Mr. Edwards.”

I began breathing deeper, leaning on the door, shaking and sweating. I could here footsteps all around me, conversations enveloped the the air, people whispering about me, describing my condition. Words too far away to comprehend, yet just within earshot. I planted my hands on the door and began pushing against the wooden resistance with what strength I had left.

“That’s not the best idea, Mr Edwards.”

I planted my feet and slowly edged myself forward, pushing exaggerated breaths out. The exit was visibly caving in, seemingly not made even of wood. As the fabric holding the space in front of me together began ripping and splintering and I drove my hands through space and time itself, drawing more and more strength as I went.

With one final scream I forced the door apart, exploding inward as the shards of timber dispersed to nothingness and I dropped to the cold floor, laying in a pool of my own sweat I gazed through the exit. I broke down as I stared off into an unrecognizable part of my own mind.

“It’s going to be alright, Mr. Edwards. Everything’s going to be alright.”