Perception

051/365

Let go of what you think you know to make room for what you don't...

-VQ

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Blinding sparks of light then total blankness. Not the black abyss of darkness that one descends during unconsciousness, but the bright and piercing white of awareness that one experiences when slamming into sudden awareness. It stings on impact, sharp shrills ricochet off skull walls sending ripples of pain surging between eye sockets. Her face is buried in her hands desperate for relief from the shock. The sparks fizzle out to specks as vision is regained and pain subsides to a dull ache.

The scenery doesn’t seem to change much despite her newfound sense of clarity. Everything around her is painted a colorless hue. The lack of pigmentation in the room is stunning; knocking the wind out of her chest as her brain attempts to grasp hold of reality. Her head turns up towards an all-white ceiling melting into white washed walls all the way down onto bleached floorboards. A snow-white carpet rests under a white metal table blending perfectly against its backdrop, nearly invisible to the naked eye.

Dropping to her knees she sobs pathetically, confusion outlining her expression. Thoughts flood in rapidly consuming her with panic. Any idea of where she could possibly be, is eliminated by the fact that there are no windows in sight. She gasps at the realization, walls closing in on her with every breath that is taken. Her heartbeat quickens to a steadily rising pace, adrenaline surging through her body. She struggles to remember how she got here. What it was that brought her to this awful prison. What she had done to deserve such entrapment.

Endless possibilities swirl around in her mind. Someone could have spiked her drink at the bar and dragged her off to this secluded dungeon in the middle of nowhere. She considered it momentarily before it was dismissed on the notion that although she is sick to her stomach, it is not the same nauseating feeling of a drug induced hangover. Faces and places run through her head frantically piecing themselves together in a feeble attempt to rationalize her predicament. Who could have done this? Why are they doing it? What do they want?

She shakes off the nagging thoughts and refocuses on the room. There is a thin black line in one of the walls that she traces up and around what seems to be the frame of a door. Excited, she jumps up and dashes towards it pounding on it with balled up fists.

“Somebody help!!!! Please!!!!! Somebody help me!!!!!!” She hits and kicks at it in between hopeless screams. “Please let me out!!! I don’t want to be here please!!!!!!” Her cries fall on deaf ears. She wails and explodes into a fit of visceral rage throwing the table across the room with a thunderous boom as it bounces off the back wall.

              “LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU COWARD!!” She snaps under the mounting pressure. “FACE ME!!! FACE ME LIKE A MAN!!! The rug is in her hands next and flung about the room with furious passion. “I KNOW ITS YOU, YOU WEAK BASTARD! WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE I SWEAR!!!”  She darts towards the table again picking it up with ease.

She yells a warrior-like shriek before running at the door full-force, legs pointed outward like daggers ready to unleash their deadly strike. The power of the collision sends her flying backwards at a bone crushing velocity. Metal clangs against metal, vibrating rapidly off her small frame and thrusting her down onto the hardwood. The side of her face smashes onto the ground smacking against her teeth and splitting her cheek wide open. Warm blood pours from the gash freely.

She rips her shirt off in a frenzy stuffing the gaping hole trying not to spill out onto the pristine floors beneath her. The rapid loss of life force slows her drastically. The energy draining out of her with every blood drop, everything becoming numb and quiet. An unexpected peace overtaking her. She stumbles to her feet, beady eyes dart past the door and lock onto a protruding object. Attached to it is a white knob; the source of the crash, the reason for metal on metal. She stares at it dumbfounded, shaking her head in disbelief.

Staggering forward she reaches the door swearing she hadn’t seen it. Vowing that it had not been there moments before. Shaky fingers stretch towards it, her body losing strength with every movement. Her vision blurring as everything becomes fuzzy around the edges. Sweaty fingertips meet the handle. A slight flick of her wrist and the impenetrable door slowly creeks open, a gust of wind embracing her. Frazzled, she whimpers a knowing sigh. She was prisoner to no one but herself; her own worst enemy. Eyes roll to the back of her head and the world is blank again. A black abyss of darkness that one descends during unconsciousness…