Nothingness: A Short Story

Nothingness…

There isn’t a thought there isn’t awareness. My mind is without any ability to distinguish the sights, physical feelings, or emotions.

Unaware of consciousness. only aware of the numbness.

What?

I began to awake deep inside; the unconsciousness fells away and I begin connecting to my body.

I opened my eyes

Grey

Above me is an expansive grey object above me.

Sky, the sky is grey.

I look around me, my eyes are unable to recognize the sights nor the names to give to them.

Glass, broken glass.

Crumbled, crumbled buildings.

Broken. Gone. Destroyed.

Words begin to fall into my mind like sand to the bottom of an hourglass. I realized I was in an uncomfortable position.

Hardness, stiffness…

Pain

My head was throbbing.

I looked down

I

My heart pounding, I could feel it in my chest, I could hear it in my head, I could feel the blood rushing through my body.

Heart, arteries, capillaries, veins.

Irrelevant information.

I began inhaling and exhaling, I needed to understand what happed!

Fear

There was danger, there was a threat. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be!

Who is the threat? Where is the threat?

I need to do something!

I rolled over and tried to get up. My body was too weak, but slowly I managed to sit up. My head was sore and my vision blurred slightly, but I could still make out the toppled buildings, damaged cars and fallen trees.

Do I belong here?

My mind tried to grasp at thoughts, but every time I thought I understood I realized I was simply grasping at the wind.

I paused and let my mind go blank, then my mind began to wonder on that last word I thought about.

Belong, who do I belong with? Where are there other people to belong with?

I realized I was completely alone.

I asked myself the question again.

Do I belong here, HERE. Where is here? What got me HERE? What caused this destruction?

Anger. Fighting. War.

It began not as a war, but a war of words.

But what caused the

But how could wanting to help people bring fear and pain?

At least, that’s how it began. Then people who were better at arguing than me began to tell me I was wrong. I knew I didn’t know everything, but I had a strong belief in what I stood for, I wasn’t going to back down and I was willing to die for those beliefs.

But did I really help anyone?

No, although I didn’t drop a bomb on a country or intentionally hurt someone, I still contributed to the problem. I would spark anger in those I knew were like minded. I didn’t speak up when I knew something unjust was happening to someone with a different belief than me. I just let the anger mature and grow because the same thing was being done to me.

Was I wrong to have beliefs? Did what I truly believe bring on all of this?

I paused and thought as the wind blew. My injury was only minor, it appeared to be just a piece of glass had cut me: the blood had already dried up.

I realized the answer to my