The Human Condition

Eighteen

When I was little, Alice in Wonderland gave me the world in which my imagination could run wild in. The idea that cats could talk and just by eating or drinking you could grow as tall as trees or shrink to the size of a mouse was mind blowing. Every child wanted the fantasy of entering an alternate world, a place where anything was possible. If Alice fell into a land like ours, what would she have done? Would she have waked sooner?

The problem I had was that after spiraling down the rabbit hole, waking up was the last thing I wanted to do. It wouldn't free me from the fantasy of a world where things from a story were as alive; the nightmare was my reality and the feeling of peace, that knowing I could have that escape from life was leaving me. Bit by bit my body was calling me back, fragments of my former self breaking apart as my heaven was shattered.

I couldn't see what I was leaving. I never managed to get there but I knew the feeling was unlike anything I had ever felt before and would never be given the chance to again. It started when I became aware of my toes. They wiggled under my command as I became aware of my legs. I felt like I was still floating but the rise and fall of my stomach was a sign of my lungs expanding and deflating as my heart thumped slowly to start with, the air going down my passage awakening my senses as my mouth was dry, my tongue feeling stuck to the roof of my mouth and trying to swallow I opened it with a weird sucking sound.

The movement woke up the rest of my body, my fingers felt cramped and clenching them into a fist didn't help. Opening my eyes everything was blurry and blinking a few times I could finally focus on the pale ivory colour of the roof, the uneven line of the paintbrush left an odd texture in a long stroke and licking my lips I managed to look away as I could hear someone coming.

What had happened?

Remembering not only where I was but why I felt so, strange, was as impossible as trying to think of anything except the footsteps. There was more than one person nearby, their voices not as loud as the steps of them pacing. The more I listened, willing myself to get up I knew I wanted to go to the steps. Hunger hit me, thirst next and the realization it wasn't steps at all had me up in seconds and the new focus of my attention made me forget where I was, in Dominik's bedroom.

Heart beats.

My first step was shaky; my muscles needed a new kind of nourishment I hadn't yet provided it with and the second step had me leaning against the end of the bed. I had never felt so weak, not even at the hospital after the incubus attack had I felt like this.

What did Dominik do?

Instantly I finally found a memory to hold onto, we were arguing and I wanted him to believe there was no difference between us. My hand flew up to my neck, he attacked me - no the bastard bit me.

How long had I been out for?

Looking out towards the windows it was still dark but I knew dawn was coming and the thought filled me with dread. When I saw Dominik I was going to kill him. A new flare of bloodlust flared within which rather than make me feel guilty or disgusted fueled my anger. I needed something to eat. The fridge full of food had me trying harder to walk over to the door; stopping by the wall I needed a chance to catch my breath. Everything was being pushed to its limits; it was as if i had been stranded in the desert for months not left in bed and despite having showered before he attacked my skin was crawling with dirt.

Eat. Then I'd shower.

"Get Mandy out of here" Owens voice was the first I could hear from where I still leant against the wall, reaching out for the handle I wanted to cry knowing he was here. And Mandy? She was meant to be with my parents. Why were they here? Did they manage to get rid of Dominik while I was knocked out?