Alone
The door slammed shut in his face and he blinked wildly. Spots of light shattered his view. His head throbbed with each beat of his heart as darkness clouded his mind. A total wave of confusion over took him and he cringed in fear. How long he had been standing there, he could not answer. He had no idea where he was at, yet it seemed familiar. He turn and surveyed the room trying to get his mind straight. It was not well lit and what light that was there flickered randomly. The walls were a dingy faded yellow and at one time were probably white. A lone window obscured by a faded green curtain seemed to appear out of nowhere across the room on the opposite wall. Perhaps it had always been there, yet in his stupor he just missed it.
He began to walk forward slowly across the room. His legs felt weighted with every step. Each step was sluggish and deliberate. He could barely keep his balance as he made his way to the window. As he leaned against the wall next to the window, he realized that he was panting trying to catch his breath. He pushed the curtain aside and looked out the window. He gazed through the dirty glass to see the sun setting quickly on a distant hill. Or perhaps it was rising, he thought to himself. As he stared, it seemed that the sun was not rising or setting but just sitting on the hill. A faint wind brushed over the dry brown leaves on the grass.
He turned and leaned his back against the wall and slowly slid to the floor. His mind was blank. He had no idea where he was, who he was or how long he had been here. Looking down at his feet he noticed for the first time the huge shackles and chains wrapped around his ankles. His legs and ankles were rubbed raw where the shackles were. Dried blood stained the dirty cotton pants he wore. He was shirtless and his arms and chest were covered in dark bruises and scratches. His hands and fingers were filthy and covered in dirt and blood.
A blunt pain started to overcome his head and ran down his spine. He fell over to the floor. Curling up in to a ball he began to weep and moan. Darkness overtook him as he fell into unconsciousness.
* * *
He awoke to find himself lying on his back staring at the ceiling. His head swam with chaotic thoughts and fearful whispers. He sat up slowly looking around the room. Nothing had changed except that it was somewhat darker now. He still wore the same stained cotton pants and the shackles were still attached to his ankles. He scanned the room again looking for anything he might have missed and noticed that the door that slammed shut in his face earlier was now open. He tried to stand up quickly only to find that his body would not respond. He was stiff and sore all over and his body ached with every move. He managed to get to his knees and begin to crawl to the doorway. The chains clinked along the way as he drug them slowly.
When he got to the door, he slumped against the wall. Again, he was out of breath and his heart pounded wildly in his chest. He thought back to his first encounter with the room. He still did not know where he was at or how he got here and trying to think about these things brought back the dull blunt ache to his head the dizzied him for several minutes. “Who am I?” He thought to himself. “Where am I?”
Gathering his thoughts, he turned his attention back to the open doorway. Pushing the door open, he allowed the dim light from the room to spill into a narrow hallway that extended to the left and right into an uneasy darkness. He looked down both directions, but the light faded several feet from the doorway. Both directions seemed identical. He used the door to pull himself to his feet. Steadying himself, he leaned out into the hallway looking as far as he could down to the right. Slowly, he stepped out of the room into the darkness.
* * *
He hung his head and coughed violently. The water was refreshing, but too cold. He was shivering all over and his head was pounding. The air had a silent chill that crept up on him. A sun lit breeze filled the tiny room from a broken window high up on a ledge. He was in some sort of lavatory or washroom. In front of him a tiny sink stood. It was filthy, covered in dirt and muck. Above it, a broken mirror hung at an angle. Behind him was a broken toilet. The water from the faucet was clear and poured with a steady flow.
His eyes fixed on the image in the mirror. He did not recognize the gaunt shape it reflected. He splashed more water on his face and grimaced at the icy chill. It was a biting cold that he seemed to welcome. Looking back at the cracked mirror, as if for the first time, there was no recollection of the face staring back at him. His face was heavily bruised and covered in scratches. A large cut ran from his right ear across his cheek and down to the middle of his chin. There was no hair on his head as if shaved with a razor. His eyes were gaping pools of icy blue. Dark rings circled his eyes and edged to his high cheek bones. He had a narrow face and a sharp angled nose that came to a point. Still nothing he knew.
He rinsed his face one more time and looked closely in the mirror. On his forehead was an unusual marking, letters in some language perhaps. He rubbed at them, but nothing changed. It appeared that they spelled something. P-E-R-F-I-D-U-S. “What does that mean?” He thought.
For a moment he was lost in a gaze. A flood of emotions overwhelmed him, feelings of guilt and betrayal, love and remorse, fear and loss. He tried to explore each one, but as with his earlier attepmts, they led him to nothing but pain. He had so many questions. In vain he asked them. There was no reply from within or without. He no longer cared about how he got here as much as why he was here. For whatever reason, he felt alone. Whether for death or penance, he didn’t care. He wanted to live. He needed to find something to prove his existence not just to himself, but to something outside of himself. Was he even alive or just a painful memory to someone? Could he affect this reality and could it affect him?
He realized he was no longer standing in the lavatory. In his contemplation he wandered into a large room filled with furniture. A moldy couch sat directly in front of him and beyond that a row of bookshelves lined the wall. Most of the books had been thrown to the floor. A faint flicker of light caught his eye to the right. He focused his attention on it and noticed a sunlit shadow dancing on the wall. He studied it for a moment. It was the only other movement he had seen since awaking. He looked at the opposite wall and made out a slight crack where the plaster had broken through which the sunlight shined. Walking towards the wall, he could see dust intercepting the beam of sunlight. A faint memory flashed quickly in his mind of a sunbeam and laughter. Then it was gone.
He examined the wall closely and pressed his hand against it. Suddenly, more plaster fell to the floor in a crash of dust. He covered his mouth and coughed as he inhaled the dust. A large hole gaped at him, exposing more of the exterior wall. The hole to the outside was now larger too, large enough for him to pass through. The sun shined brightly in his eyes between the branches of a tree. He held up a hand to block the bright invasive glow. A chill wind blew. He caught his breath at the gust. Slowly he stepped through the hole onto the dry grass. As before and throughout this experience, it was all new. He knew he could just sit here and wait. Wait for what though? Sleep? Death? He decided to walk. Where? He didn’t know. Away from here was all he cared for.
* * *
The chains around his feet drug at him with each step, a burden that seemed to grow more and more. His gait was greatly shortened by length of chain and walking at any rate of speed required him to almost be at a jog. He was sweating profusely and had to stop often to allow his legs to rest. His cotton pants were soaked with sweat which stung the raw skin around his ankles where the shackles were attached. The thunderous headaches subsided, but a hunger quietly grew in his stomach and a thirst slowly overcame his throat. He was exhausted and he knew it. He decided to rest for a while as sat down against a large pine tree. The light was fading fast and soon it would be night.
He had been moving for quite sometime in an unknown direction. From the house, he headed for a tree line that was in the direction of the setting sun. When he left the house he surveyed the area around for a short amount of time. The house was a small two story structure that was old an dilapidated. Portions of the roof were caved in and two of the exterior walls had collapsed. He could clearly see the faded green curtain in the high window from his former prison. A rusting rot iron fence surrounded the house and one large tree. The grass was yellow and stiff and the small dried blades crunched under his bare feet. From the looks of trees and the grass it appeared to be late fall.
When he set out, he was not sure what he expected to find. There seemed to be no roads leading from the house or any other signs of life around. The more he began to think about it, the house seemed more and more odd. It was in the middle of nowhere with nothing around. The trees were rather tall and close together and seemed ominous. He moved slowly forward into the dark night of the forest with his chains clanging in a rythmic tone. For some unknown reason, he felt safer in the crowd of forest than in the open. Regardless, as long as he was moving away from the dead house behind him he felt better.
His mind wandered again to his identity. The same questions stood fast in his mind. “Who am I? Where am I?” When the headaches came this time, he was prepared for them. They hit him full force, but he had to continue on, not just physically, but mentally. He did not know where this spirit in him came from, but he welcomed it. He had a sense of determination and will that was overwhelming. Yet, as these feelings and emotions welled up within him, a sense of fear and darkness crept in. A certain uneasiness of the unknown lingered in his mind.
He woke from his deep thought and found that he had come to a rock out cropping that poked up from the ground. It had a small overhang that he found would provide suitable shelter. He knew he had to rest and soon would have to find some food of some sort. He resigned to search for sustenance in the morning and crawled under the overhang. The rock was cold and hard, but it was dry. He drifted of to an uneasy sleep wary of the road ahead.
