The Dark Room

The Dark Room

I was sat on a chair, with my arms bound behind my back, and my legs bound together at the ankles. The room was dark, very dark, save for a dim light bulb dangling above my head. I had no idea how I had gotten there. I had no idea who I was. I had no idea what was about to happen. I could just about make something out on the floor: it looked like a piece of paper. Yes, it was a piece of paper; my eyes were adjusting to the surroundings. When I looked closely, I could see that there were words on the paper. I squinted, trying my hardest to make out the words. I couldn’t. One thing I did work out was that it was just three words written on there. I knew soon that my eyes would adjust further: so, I waited. I tried my hardest to remember who I was, to no avail. I tried my hardest to remember how I had gotten there, to no avail. I tried my hardest to think about what was going to happen, and, as I was doing so, I saw a small dark shape behind the paper. It was a thin object, protruding into the air, towards the ceiling. It was no more the length of my hand. The bottom part was thick; the longer, upper part was much thinner. I realised now, that if I could almost make out what this object was, then I could probably make out the words. I looked back at the piece of paper: I stared intensely, leaning forward slightly, as I did so. I managed to make out the words. What peculiar words they were: ‘Fall and awaken.’ Those were strange words, very strange words indeed. What did they mean? ‘Fall and awaken?’ I was awake, as far as I could tell, and, I wasn’t in a position to fall a big height. But… I was in a position to fall from my chair. The bounds where not attached to the chair, they were just attached to me. I could possibly try to thrust myself forward to fall on the floor. Then… I realised. The thin object behind the piece of paper had something to do with the fall. I assumed that was where I was supposed to fall. With terror, I understood the situation that I was in now: the piece of paper was telling me to fall on the thin object, and, whatever it was, would wake me up. I did not feel like I was in a dream. The feeling was so real. The light, the darkness, the paper, the object. I became very afraid: what if this was real, and if I fell on this object, it would extinguish my existence for good. What did the end feel like? Was there light? Was there darkness? With every thought I grew more terrified; and with every thought I grew more curious. ‘Fall and awaken.’ Those words grew stronger in my mind. Soon it was becoming all I could think about. ‘Fall and awaken.’ Please, please be true. If I do fall, please be it that I awaken. Please do not let this be the end. Do not extinguish my life for good. Please… let there be something else on the other side. I decided. I was going to go for it. My mind was becoming chaos: I had to awaken. This was it. The moment of all moments. Will I awaken; or will I be extinguished for good. There was no time to ponder. I must do what I must do. I began rocking forwards and backwards, trying to build up momentum: If I was to do this, I must make it count. The momentum was building. I could feel the force of my body. I gauged in my mind how far I could throw myself. The object was the target, and my head the puzzle piece. I would connect the two, and hope it would grant me what was promised. I had reached enough force, or so I hoped, and was ready to make the lunge. I gritted my teeth. I clenched my fists. I shouted. Then I thrusted. Forward my body went, as if in slow motion, towards the object. As I got closer, I made it out: a screwdriver. This was going to awaken me? A screwdriver! A screwdriver! I screamed. I closed my eyes. Then I prayed to God. God? God? I remember now! I believe in God. I believe in God! I believe! I believe…