...part 3

My instincts kicked in, and without hesitation, I jumped out of my car. Confused, angry, covered in blood, and afraid. I ran back into my house. I was so shook up, I didn't even stop to see what I had ran over. I just raced up the driveway, and into the front door. As soon as I shut the door behind me, everything went dark. For just one moment, then my eyes started to adjust to the dim flickering flourescent light off in the distance.

As my eyes adjusted, I realized nothing looked familiar. Nothing I expected to see was there. I had somehow ended up in a hallway. A long hospital hallway.

There were doors staggered along the long wall that could have gone on for miles. Behind the single flouresent light in the distance, the hallway just got darker, and darker, until I couldn't see anymore. The air was stale, smelling like old dirt. It was warm, very warm, like there was a furnace lit or something. The walls and floors were all cement, but the doors were a pale yellow, with small windows made of very thick glass.

Some of the doors had numbers on them, and others had writing on dry erase boards next to the doors. I turned around to leave. I didn't know how I'd gotten there, or where "there" was exactly, but I knew that I had seen enough. I turned around to walk out the door, and was surprised to see that I was standing about 3 feet away from a wall with a tree painted on it.

I stepped closer, and touched the wall in disbeliefe. I was surprised that even the wall was warm to the touch. The texture of it was rough, and left a thin layer of dust on my hand. Looking at the dust on the palm of my hand, I noticed that my hand was no longer covered in blood. I turned my hands over a couple of times, investigating them as though I was seeing them for the first time.

My breathing grew shallow, and my thinking had naturally shifted into an instinctual, survival mode. The only thing that was clear to me, was that I needed to get out of this hospital STAT.

I turned and slowly started walking down the hallway. Passing the first window, I peered in, and saw a large room. Much larger than I had expected. I stepped toward it to get a closer look inside. There were 2 beds, 2 night stands, each with a lamp, and 2 chairs in the room. One of each on either side of the door on opposing walls. I tried the door, only to realize that it had a deadbolt. Upon further investigation, I realized there was no keyhole to unlock the door. I wondered if it was magnetic, or if perhaps it locked from the inside.

I continued to investigate the contents of the room, not realizing that the occupants of the room, were still inside. They had their backs to the wall next to the door, just out of my view and I didn't have a clue!

There was something on the left side of the room, just above the bed that occupied that portion of the wall. It looked like a photograph. As I tried to get a better look at it, the patient on the right side of the wall moved closer to the door, and was slowly getting closer to the window.

The photograph was very strange, in that it was just a picture of what looked like umberellas. 7 or 8 identical, long, black umbrellas with light colored wooden handles. None of this made any sense to me. As I stepped away from the window, the patients both moved in front of it, watching me walk away. I never even noticed they were there.

I continued down the hallway, and most of the rooms were identical to the first one I had looked into, or at least they seemed to be at a glance. I didn't stop to really investigate anymore. I just wanted to find a way out of this strange place I had ended up while running from, God knows what. The events of the evening started to replay in my mind. Trying to analize what had happened, trying to make some sense of it all. I couldn't come up with a logical explination for anything that had happed that night.

As I passed under the light, I noticed that one of the doors lead into what looked like a kitchen. I tried the door, and it opened. I walked through it, and into a dimly lit room with stainless steel counter tops that looked like they had just been polished. I quietly navigated to the other side of the room where there hung a set of swinging doors. Very slowly I pushed on one side of the door, and peaked through into a dining hall. There were tables, and chairs, and even silverware and dishes.

Just as I saw the dishes, I noticed a sweet new smell in the air. It was familiar, like warm brown sugar, and fruit. The smell entered through my nose, and filled my mouth and throat, leaving me with a feeling of intoxication. If I could figure out where it was coming from, maybe I could find someone who could help me get out of this place. Cautiously, I walked through the dining room letting my sense of smell guide me. I exited the dining room, and entered a room where there were dozens of beds in rows of 4. All of the beds were occupied, and all of the occupants were sleeping.

I would have instantly turned around and exited the room, but across the room, I could see a door that led to a hallway, that seemed to lead outside. Trying to control my breathing, I quietly walked along the wall, in the shadow of the room towards the door as quickly as I could go without making a sound. As I walked by, I investigated these sleeping peoples faces. I couldn't tell what gender any of them were. They were all asleep, on their backs, and covered from the top of the chest to the ankle. I couldn't make out any breasts, but their features were soft, and slightly feminine. The tops of their heads were also covered just above their eyes, slightly resembling the headdress of a nun. My heart was beating quickly as I moved from face to face on my way toward the exit. My heart, eyes, and body all stopped when they met a pair of open eyes staring back at them...

...part 2

...that I was alone. I was standing in my room, alone. Without even thinking about it, I got off my bead, and headed out of my room. I needed answers.

I walked out my door, and downstairs into the living room. When I got down there, the whole room was cold. It felt like it was 20 degrees colder than my room. My dad was asleep in his chair, an infomercial playing on the T.V. The good news was that I didn't see myself anywhere, but the bad news, was that I couldn't help but wonder if I was going crazy. As I was standing in the living room, wondering about the temperature, and the past 10 minutes or so, the bathroom door opened, and there I was again, walking out as if nothing had happened.

When the Me coming out of the bathroom saw me standing in the living room, instead of freaking out, to my surprise, I attacked myself. Completely caught off guard, I was knocked to the ground. Defending myself against cold punches, and attempted headbutts, I was surprised at my own strength.

My father woke up from the commotion, coughing. He looked down on the ground where we had been fighting, and saw me on my back, on the ground, alone.

"Are you alright?" He asks with a concerned look on his face.

Thinking quickly, not wanting to even attempt to explain what had happened, I tell him "I'm alright, the cat just freaked me out, and I tripped. How are you doing?"

"I'm good, are you sure you're okay?" He asked again.

"Yeah." I said with a smile. "I'm just gonna hang out down here with you for a while." I said smiling back at him, trying to not indicate that something was terribly wrong here.

I wanted to know what was going on. I'd never been so confused, and curious, and concerned before. I couldn't even begin to imagine how to explain everything to my father who seemed to not know anything was going on. I began to wonder if it was really him I saw earlier in my doorway. At this point, I was all but convinced I was losing it. What "it" was exactly, I was unsure of. Possibly my marbles, possibly my wits, either way, things were happening that were out of my control, and for which there was no logical explanation.

The television was on, and I was staring at it with my eyes, but worlds away in my mind. I still felt jumpy. I finally started to calm down a bit, when I saw something move outside the back door. I looked out, and saw myself standing there, soaking wet. Why was I staring at myself through the glass? Why was my other self covered in water? Was I really seeing myself?

"Maybe I am going crazy!" I thought to myself.

"Dad, come over here and look at this." I said to my father who was sitting back in his recliner. "Look out the door, and tell me what you see."

He came over, and looked out the glass panes in the door. His reaction was anything but expected. As if inspired by the Gods themselves, he started praying. Although it was unfamiliar to hear my father address anything not of this world, his tone, and choice of words sounded as thought this were a prayer he'd recited his whole life. He was calm, and seemed very sure of himself as he prayed.

"Lord, bless this soul that it may enter your gates and forever be freed from this world where they do not belong. Father please lead this wanderer safely on it's journey home. May it see the light that leads the way, and not deviate from it's course. Let your love and eternal light lead this lost soul home. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit I pray. Amen."

Where did this come from? My father wasn't a religious man, and he hadn't set foot in a church so long as I could remember. Very shortly after finishing his prayer, in a very soft voice, he started repeating something. I couldn't make out what he was saying, I couldn't even tell if he was speaking English.

I could still see myself standing outside the window. I appeared to be breathing heavily. Seemingly refusing to breaking eye contact with Myself. The look on my face read of remorse. But what was I sorry for? Was The look on my face because I had just attacked myself? Or was it something else?

The only person who seemed to have any idea of what was going on was my father who I interrupted with a series of questions.

"do you know what is going on dad? Do you remember what had happened in my room earlier?"

When he turned and looked at me, something was very different about his face. I mean, his features were the same, but there was something, something out of the norm. I couldn't peg what it was exactly, but it was disturbingly unfamiliar. He looked at me with a blank stare, and said that I had to leave. He told me that he didn't care where I went, but that I needed to leave his house immediately.

"What's going on Dad? Why do I have to leave?" I asked.

"You don't get to ask me questions like that, you get to leave, NOW!" He replied angrily.

"I'm not going anywhere, and I don't know why you're talking to me like this." I said anxiously. I relaxed my tone and with a shaking voice I said, "Dad, I'm freaking out here. What is going on?"

He looked at me with disgust and said "Leave! Now!"

I started crying, I didn't know what was going on. Why was everything so different all of a sudden. Why was all this happening?

So full of questions, and emotions, I grabbed my keys, and headed out the door. I got in my car, and backed out of the driveway recklessly. The tires squealed, and then my Jeep jumped in the air with a loud thud. I'd just ran something over. I put my hand on my head, overwhelmed, frustrated, emotionally exhausted.

I ran my hands down my face taking in a deep breath. There was a lump swelling in my throat that caused me to swallow hard. As I took a deep, and involuntary breath in, I noticed that there was the distinct taste of blood in my mouth. I pulled my hands away from my face, and looked down at them in horror as I saw that they were covered in blood. Quickly I grabbed my rear view mirror and pulled it so that my face was in view. I was bleeding both from my nose, and my mouth. The acoustic version of Everlong by the Foo Fighters was suddenly screaming out of my speakers. Instantly I reached for the knob to turn the volume down. Instead of feeling the knob, I felt a cold, wet hand...

And there I was...

I was lying in my bed playing guitar. Looking at her photo. She was wearing all black, and the photo captured her in mid laugh. It was kind of silly, but beautiful, just like her. I had been trying to translate my emotions into notes, but having a hard time stringing together something that could adequately express feelings I myself had yet to decipher. The light in my room was bright, but the feeling was growing to be very dark. Darker than even I expected, considering my current mood. The air smelled sweet, like cherries and ceder, from the incense I burned earlier. Still lingering around, like the feelings I was having for this girl. Feelings brought on by a series of unfortuante events.

The night before, I'd dreamt of her. It had been a while since I'd done that. Everything that involves her is always so intense, and this dream was no exception. A couple of days after the dream, we had a conversation that lead to a comment that sent my emotions into a spiral. This was familiar, but unwelcomed. I was over getting over her. Over this "girl" who's name I can't even say, the same girl I've never had, the same girl who's in love with yet another temporary "Him".

It was so strange to be caught so off guard, and brought back to emotions I'd thought I had under control. Even though I'm painfully aware that those feelings are never too far out of reach, it was still unexpected and unsettling. I wanted nothing more than to escape this source of endless pain that had a direct line to my heart.

So I grabbed my guitar, trying to get these emotions out of my body, and under control. Halfway through another inadequate chord progression, something in the air shifted. This moment was when the mood around me darkened. The feeling was similar to walking through a cemetery at night. Logic tells you there is nothing there, but it still feels creepy, and suspiciously dangerous. It was a very distracting feeling. I was gently nudged back to the moment by a sudden chill in the air that sent an intense charge down my spine and out my fingers. I thought to just ignore the feeling, letting the adult in me use logic to soothe. I shifted my attention back to my guitar. Strumming random notes, still slightly distracted, I get the intense feeling that there was something, or someone behind me. By this point, the child in me had taken over, completely unreasonable, and entertaining flighty ideas of paranoia.

I tried to calm my breathing, but was unsuccessful as the feeling, was getting stronger. It was overwhelming, and startling. Invasive even, and I didn't understand where it was coming from. All I could think to do, the only thing the child in me was insisting on, was to not move and just listened. The adult wasn't sure what I was listening for, but I remembered doing this same thing when I was much younger, and feeling afraid after hearing an unexpected noise, or seeing a scary movie. I think that as a child, part of me believed that if I didn't move, then whatever was there couldn't see me, and another part of me believed that if I didn't move, I would somehow have the upper hand on whatever was "coming to get me". Perhaps a noise that would prove to be the source of the overwhelming darkness that was now invading my personal space.

From my bed, all I could see in the room was my bookshelf, the wall, and my door. Child logic told me to just head for the door, and Adult logic interjected the thought that I should not to run, because that would be silly. My heartbeat disagreed, with my Adult mind, but the fear paralyzed me. I sat there, confused, and shaken. I was trapped in a fantasy world, where my imaginations intensity jumped back 20 years to the days where my mind was filled with wild colors, often pleasant images, only this was anything but pleasant. Painfully unaware of anything other than the thoughts racing through my mind, I scrolled through all the images of things that just could not be.

Monsters? Ghosts? Bogymen? What was there?

Okay, snap out of it I tried to tell myself unsuccessfully. Just then, I heard a noise just outside my door. I was afraid of what might happen next. My mind still racing, and my body still frozen I sat there fearing what was to come. The adult in me telling me to calm down, but my instincts on edge. My door knob twisted, and the door opened. My mind was now racing! My heartbeat was so strong that my shirt was pulsing with every beat. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see.

The door swung open, and There I Was. Baffled, and in a state of disbelief, the feelings of terror returned. I didn't understand how this was possible. I felt my face get flush, and my eyes start to water. Overwhelmed and in a state of shock, tears start to run down my face. For some reason, I was internally dreading the inevitable moment where I would make eye contact with myself. I see myself slowly look up from what looked like a small piece of paper and our eyes meet.

I look as startled to see myself sitting on my bed, as I feel seeing myself walk into my room. All of a sudden, the me that just walked in starts to scream. I see myself screaming, and shaking and running back out the door. I can hear myself yelling, "what the fuck, what the fuck... " My voice fades out in the distance, and I'm very unsure of the reality of what just happened. I wonder if I'm in the middle of an intensely real dream. Again, I again start to entertain all sorts of ideas, influenced by the books I've read, movies I've seen, stories I've heard, etc., and ust as I'm excluding the possibility of time travel, seeing as how one of us would have known what was going on, my Dad walks in, smiling, looking as though he was expecting to see something else, anything other than his daughter who was standing behind him in the hallway. He looked startled when his eyes met my face. He looked back at Me standing behind him, and again at Me sitting on my bed.

I looked at him, and spoke, my voice shaky, I asked "Did you see, me?" He didn't answer, instead just stared at me in disbelief. I cleared my throat and repeated the question.

He slowly nodded his head. I'm not sure what provoked my next reaction to the situation, perhaps the fear, but for some reason I yelled at him with a tone that felt impatient. The volume of my own voice made me jump as I yelled "what is going on?!" as thought I'd asked him and he was refusing to answer me.

It startled all 3 of us, then I heard myself from the hallway, whisper to my father, "Tell it to stop talking please!"

I could tell Me, and myself were feeling the same about the situation, afraid, confused, wanting nothing more than to deny what we had seen. I heard myself ask my father is I was dead. I had already entertained that idea myself. Wouldn't I have remembered dying though? We both waited for my father to answer, to say something assuring, but all he did was stare blankly at me. There was the slightest hint of curiosity in his eyes, but more than anything, he looked, distant. He didn't respond. He didn't blink. He didn't even seem to be breathing.

I put my head in my hands, shaking my head, not sure where to go, or what to do. I was surprised to feel the wetness from my cheeks in my hand. With everything that was going on, I'd forgotten that I had been crying. When I lifted my head again, expecting to see my father still blankly staring at me, I was surprised to see...