The Time Now 1.12

I touch the surface I lay on with my fingertips. It feels as always. I don’t need to open my eyes to know: the glass ceiling above, a door to my right, an infinite flight of stairs swirling into darkness at my feet. The sign above my head still reads: Under Construction. I'm back on the staircase. Again. From deep within my chest, a tingle rises to my throat, and I laugh. Free will, they said. Free will! The words turn bitter in my mouth, and before I know it, I’m laughing hysterically— at the madness, the mockery of it all. "Forever chasing mastery, always bound to slavery, stripped of my identity, dissolving in captivity, a vessel for depravity." My laughter bounces in the shaft, echoing manicly. So much for finding peace here. I open my eyes, breathless, as the glass ceiling seems to drift farther away. The darkness that once lay below rises like a tide, ready to swallow me. Would it be so bad—to let it take me? The thought lingers. But then—yes—it would! Why is this place turning on me? I glance at the door beside me. Where does it lead? Why is no one calling me now? How long have I been here? Too long. I reach for the handle and push. Locked. I push harder. Nothing. I throw myself against it, but it won’t budge. Sweat beads on my forehead. My chest tightens, aching. There must be another door down below. But where would it lead? Do I really want to open those doors— the ones to my past? Still, I can’t stay here. The laughter has died, and the silence grew maddening. I can hear the flow of my blood through my veins. Frantic heartbeats boom deafening in my head. I start to tremble. Running my right hand across the wall, I fumble towards the steps. I feel a hard edge and the void underneath the soles of my feet. I tread down the stairs. I can barely see the steps anymore. The skylight rose so high that it slightly glows in this bottomless pit of sorrow. I take another step. Is it wise to adventure in this direction? And another step. Why are things going so awry? A fourth step. Is it because I’m dead? A fifth step. Is it because I killed myself? A sixth step. Did they really let me do it? A seventh step. But then, why would I return to the staircase? An eighth step. And why would the door be locked? A ninth step. And why would I feel pain and sorrow in death? A tenth step. Wasn't this always my safe place? I feel the frame of a door. I search for the handle and push once more. Nothing. This door is locked too. My stomach shrinks, and I feel nauseated. Fear creeps inside my heart. Am I trapped in here? I start descending again, faster this time, close to the wall and feeling its surface. Questions go whirling in my mind, my thinking getting hazy. Why? Why?! WHY?!? Another door. Still locked. I push with all my strength and throw myself against it. No luck. I carry on, and I can barely see anything. I’m engrossed in the feelings of my palms, of my feet, walking down the stairs. My head hurts; there's too much pressure inside my skull all of a sudden. It's from the heart beating with fear, from the rush of the blood. My skin is noise. My flesh is a mass of static. I’m pandemonium flowing down the staircase. Another door. With feverish fingers, I reach for the handle and grab it in my palm. I wait, catching my breath. I hope, and I wish, and I pray, and I urge all that is to unlock this door for me. And then I push. Nothing. I scream, but I can't hear my scream on top of the clamor. I hit the door with my fists and kick it. But letting my anger out has no use. It only makes me feel worse. Bitterness floods my mouth, and I heave and recoil, struggling to contain the sickness. My chest tightens again and again, a hammer pounding against my sternum. Daunted, I sit on one of the steps, leaning against the wall, hunching. And I breathe again, in and out, in and out, trying to calm down my heartbeat. But it won't listen to me, not anymore, not as long as I am in here. Why did this place turn against me? I stand up with shaking knees, ready to go down even further. I feel for the door once more, and I grab the handle. And for a long moment, I pause, overwhelmed with awe and hope and excitement. Holding my breath, I push down the handle, then pull. The door cracks open, and I almost lose my mind. I open the door slowly, trying to glimpse what's on the other side. Still darkness, but someplace else. I take a few steps into the unknown. The floor changes underneath my feet. And then, a whisper… “Come…”