I know, I know. I promised this was to be my last page. I thought it would be. I hoped it would be.
It wasn't. I am still alive. But... not in the way one might think I would. I breathe, I feel, I smell, I see, I remember. Still, I don't quite understand. Not a single thing. I know, I know. You are curious. Aren't you, Nicholas? You want explanations and I will provide them. As fast as I can before I forget everything. My memories begin to disappear, noise replaces the images that once were in my head, like a nearly broken VHS tape. I will try my best to tell you what happened. Are you listening, Nicholas?
So, I went forward with my plan. I stood on a chair underneath the ceiling light, without any clothes to burden me, and wrapped the free end of my rope around the lamp. I tightened both ends. I breathed in deeply, giving myself one last chance to understand the world and interact with it. Forgive and forget. My final adieu. It felt rotten. I jumped off the chair and, in an instance, I felt my Adam's apple getting kicked to the back of my throat. The black of my eyes rolled into the abyss of my head. For a moment, I felt as if Lady Luck had touched my soul with her divine golden hands. To set me free. To finally be happy. I felt her warm embrace as my naive body was still resisting, my hands, out of instinct, were tightly grasping the rope, my body's very last effort to escape. My feet were stomping the vacant air and my throat was desperately searching for a hint of breath.
What a bliss it was.
The impossibility of freeing myself made me peaceful and my body finally gave up, twitching like a fish out of the water. And as my consciousness was slowly giving in, I felt as if I was diving into a state of the deepest dream. My body was falling. And falling. And falling. To a void of blackness and despair. I began to wonder. Did I make it?
I felt my naked body floating into emptiness.
Why am I still feeling?
I failed my last chance of giving up. My hopes of freedom were nothing but delusions of a crazy man. A delirium of the undead. I was falling.
And as I was falling, I felt a sudden jolt, that kind of sensation you get when the bus unexpectedly stops. And this is exactly what happened. My bus stopped unexpectedly. This isn't my stop. This isn't my destination. This is but a car crash, an unwanted accident that forced me to get off. What am I doing here? I am not supposed to be here. I am not supposed to be anywhere. I failed, didn't I?
When I realised that all of that was over and I could open my eyes again, I felt something piercing my spine. Millions of needles stitching the soft skin of my back as if I was a cloth about to be patched. The pain brought tears to my eyes.
Am I dead? If I am dead, then why does it feel so much like living?
I failed, didn't I?
I came to understand that I had fallen on top of some sort of rock.
From where did I fall? To where have I landed? From what height? Why isn't my back thoroughly broken?
I stood up. I could walk. I cannot possibly describe my confusion. The terror I was experiencing was making me shiver, yet I could not explain the reason why I was trembling and what was making me scared so much. I tried to recollect my thoughts. It took me more than a moment to examine the place that was surrounding me. This wasn't my bedroom. This wasn't my neighbourhood.
This wasn't my...
At a first glimpse, the place seemed to be an empty desert, with no end and no beginning. But the moment my eyes began to adjust, I could distinguish a slight contour of a city, a town or perhaps a village in the distance. Scarce cacti and mountains of sands appeared before me. The more I would blink, the more I could see. Twin celestial objects were in the sky, which I presumed to be moons since it felt to be some sort of night time. It was peaceful.
Nevertheless, the confusion in my head never ceased to bug me. The uneasiness of the deepest silence was something a city man can never become accustomed to. The absence of even the slightest sound alarms our most sincere and primal instincts that something is about to happen. The calm before the storm. Especially in a place like this.
Am I dreaming?
I felt like a trapped animal. My heart was accelerating. In my imminent madness, I made a move to hide my fingers near the roots of my hair. Yet, once my fingers touched the skin of my scalp, there was nothing to be felt. I patted the empty surface in agony and then I looked at my hand. That was not my hand.
What have I become?
A monstrous appearance. My skin had turned grey and rough, scale-like objects were covering most of my body, a membrane was now filling the gaps between my fingers. My breath became inadequate. The lack of sweat frightened me. And if all of that wasn't enough, I began to notice sand swirling around me, around the lower part of my body that was missing the form of legs and had acquired instead a snake-ish curve. I felt my eyes widening - IF! if I had still had eyes- and my hands, out of instinct tried to protect my hypothetical chest, where the good-old rope was still hanging. The wind got stronger, perhaps a sandstorm was about to begin. I could do nothing but stand and stare at my surroundings. Stare at that alien greenish figure appearing in my field of vision. I could do nothing but listen. Listen to that freakish cackling invading the air out of nowhere. My heart could not take it anymore.