Joshua’s head was pounding as he slowly woke up. His eyes struggled to open, while his back and shoulders were unbelievably stiff and sore. Why am I on the floor was the immediate question as he picked himself up, still trying to shake loose the cobwebs in his mind.
He put his hand to his forehead and rubbed. Blood. “What the fuck!” he expelled to no one in bewilderment. He looked around the room for clues and found none. The room was as he had last known it. One bed, twin, a desk with a computer and books and chair. All four walls covered with every muscle car poster he could get his hands on. The one different poster was an oversized picture of Pam Anderson. It wasn’t the most organized room, yet he could find almost anything at a moment’s notice.
Now here he is, sprawled out on the floor on a Friday night, sober, and with no memory of how he got there. He sauntered over to the door and tried to open it, just so he could wash his face and maybe get some memory back. The door knob barely turned, and the door stayed fixed in to the frame. “Fuck, now what?!” He banged on the door with a closed fist. He then rested, leaning against the doorframe, with one hand on either side of the door, head down, eyes closed.
“Joshua, is there a problem?”, a deep voice bellowed out from behind him.
Joshua’s body tensed up, while his heart shifted into high gear, and a cold chill went down his spine. He forced himself to turn, and see where it came from. Nothing. Nobody. Everything was as he knew it. He knew that voice though, yet could not place it or put a name to it. He grabbed a t-shirt from the hamper, wiped the blood from his forehead and hands. After putting the shirt back, he sat on the edge of the bed, with his head in his hands. “Oh, my God, this can’t be happening!” he said while not even close to comprehending his plight.
“Sorry Joshua, it is, and please don’t call me God.”, the voice replied slightly sarcastically, yet still very domineering.
Without looking up, Joshua now had a thought. I know that voice. He had heard it quite some time ago. It was that voice he heard several years ago. It was a brief conversation, yet stayed with him. Who did he say he was again? I know that voice he kept thinking as he knocked his fist on his temple. Its’ right here, why can’t I remember…. Wait, that was him, now he remembered.
“Delbert, is that you?”, Joshua asked while he kept his head down, now too scared to look up.