Reading In Reverse

The darkness is friendly

There's a grizzly sound coming from the other side of the wall again. It's still dark so I can't see it. Charlie tells me to go back to sleep, the lights will be coming on soon, we shouldn't be awake. They comply with the rules, I don't, but I should. I try to suppress a coughing fit, but fail. It's so cold. I need my blanket. I should get back to sleep but the cold air makes it hard to concentrate.  Concentrating is hard enough as it is, so much going on in my head now I can barely hear myself think. Thinking. Think. 

No. Wait.

I wish the lights would come back on.

Sleep. Think about sleep. Isn't it funny how to sleep, you must pretend in the first place. I wonder how many people have fallen asleep by accident while pretending to sleep. Hundreds? Thousands? Millions? Charlie went back to sleep. But the room is too dark to sleep. It keeps me awake. The darkness has more stories to tell and it never asks anything of us. If I were to be awake in the middle of darkness, with no one but myself, no one could ask me of anything. I could sit and stare for hours if I pleased, I could count up to as high as I could reach before the light finally finds me again. I could listen to the sounds coming from the other side of the wall and spend hours deducting its form and shape and its purpose. But so far, there has been no avail. 

Thinking is hard enough as it is. I could spend hours thinking and the next minute, nothing. Nothing comes to mind. Nothing to process or ponder. I should ponder what awaits me shortly, but that requires me to reflect and decide. And it's so very hard to do so. Thinking just stops, should it stop?

I wish the lights would come back on. 

It feels like forever since they turned them off. I can't find my blanket, I wonder if it's on the floor. I'm not supposed to leave my mattress, but it's so cold and I have no pillow. It's not my turn. The next time the darkness comes back will be my turn. I've had 233 turns with the pillow, Charlie has had 234 turns, they went first. I went second. I wonder how many turns we'll each get. I need to find my blanket. I'm going to lay on my tummy and look for it, but I mustn't touch the ground. I know how far the ground is from my mattress. The same distance from my wrist to my elbow. Not my hand. My hand would touch the ground. And they would know I was awake. 

I wish the lights would come back on. 

My hand skims the floor, I drag it everywhere, even in places I don't think it'll be. I lightly brush the wall at the head of the mattress with my hand and my heart rate skyrockets out of my body. Nothing happens. I wait a few minutes,  And sure enough, it's there. Where I never expected it. Half way between Charlie and I. But they aren't as far as one may think. 2 arms length. I pinch my fingers over what feels like a fold and I gently and ever so slowly lift up the blanket. It takes so long my arm starts to cramp and I think I'll drop the blanket. However, just as I'm draping it over my numbing torso, the lights come on.

That's when the screaming starts.