The Only One Awake

I wake up.

This is not my lamp. This is not my television, broken table, or wallpaper.

This is not my home.

I have never even seen the person unconscious next to me before.

Outside, bodies are sprawled out everywhere. People unconscious.

Men, women, children.

On their backs, stomaches, leaning on a wall, limbs twisted from when they fell. Their eyes: robbed of emotion. They stare out at me, screeching for help.

But I don't even know how to help myself.

I am alone.

I find conscious people, but when I run to them, they evaporate into mist. I hallucinate. I scream to get the slugs out of my brain.

But I soon learn that I need to avoid the unconscious, and fear the awake. I need to sprint from the awake ones. Because the awake's minds are twisted. You cannot let them catch you.

Yet, I am awake.

(Based on real life events of the residents of the small village, Kalachi, located in Kazakhstan)