CASSANDRA ADAMS

It started as complete darkness.

No, I take that back. Darker than the dimness of simply having no lights on. This was the kind of dark that, no matter who you are, or what you're afraid of, it's terrifying. You're alone with nowhere to go and you have that sinking feeling in your gut that you know, no matter what, no one's coming to rescue you. It was blacker than pitch black and it feels like there's nothing. Absolutely nothing. I could feel my body lying there, but I felt like I wasn't lying on anything. I was merely existing in a space that felt as if the universe had caved in on itself and I was the only thing left of anything. I felt like it was eating me alive; ripping me limb from limb, body from soul. My mind was searing with the pain of staring into a bright light yet, obviously, there was no light anywhere

It felt like I was lying−more like levitating−there for hours on end, maybe even days. The pain never got any better or any worse, but I eventually became numb to it in the same way that when a fan is running you hear it for a little while but over time it just becomes background noise.

During that time I thought about things just like you do before you fall asleep. All these crazy what-ifs and ridiculous situations ran through my head at lightning speed barely giving me enough time to think about them before I move on to the next one. It took me few hours to realize that what's happening here is definitely not normal. How did I end up here? Am I dead? Is this what the afterlife is like? Just existing here for all eternity?

Then, suddenly, a light shone somewhere far off in the distance. For a minute, I thought it was some sort of illusion. Surely, I couldn't be saved from this dystopian abyss. But still, the light shining from far off was there, no matter how many times I tried to blink it away.

Okay, I thought. Let's go legs. Walk towards it. Come on. Through a great effort I slowly moved upright a trudged through the black matter surrounding me, creeping towards the illumination.

As I neared the doorway of luminescence, I felt a warmth being radiated from it, making me shudder at the change of temperature. But boy, did it feel good. The coziness brought back distant memories of bonfires on summer nights and fireplaces and cuddling on winter days. It made me want to relive those memories over and over again. It made me never want to leave.

Just as I reached the doorway and reached out to touch it, a voice came flowing through my ears. I turned around, trying to find who was talking, until I realized that the voice was in my head.

"Hey Cass," a semi-deep, male voice spoke.

Cass? No. This can't be right. I hate being called that. No one ever calls me Cass. But apparently, this guy does.

"Listen, I need you to get through this," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I've being trying to stay strong but it's so hard without you. All the guys say you're gonna be okay. Alan tells me that you'll be awake within this week. But the thing is, he said that last week. And the week before."

Two weeks? I've been in this place for two weeks; maybe more?

"I just don't know anymore," he sighed. "What if you don't make it? I don't know what I'd do. I can't live without you."

Oh god. That pain. The kind of pain you can hear in a voice, you can see in a person's eyes. That excruciating, gut-wrenching feeling that leaves you unable to function. You can't eat, you can't sleep. You can't do anything because you're just thinking about the thing that's causing you pain. That was what I heard in this mystery man's voice and I didn't have it in me to not do anything about it.

I don't know how, but I knew that going through that door meant never seeing this guy again. It meant "not making it." And I couldn't do that to him. I don't know how, or even if, I know this guy, but I can't just cause another human to suffer through that pain.

I'm coming, I thought, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I'm on the way.

Just like that, I was back in my own skin, it felt like. I could feel soft sheets underneath and on top of me, a pillow under my head. I could feel the thin material of some sort of clothing covering most of my body. I could hear a constant, annoying beeping sound. I heard muffled voices, probably on the other side of a wall. I saw the light shining through my eyelids and could smell an extremely sterile scent, like after you clean your entire house. But none of that mattered because the one thing I was focused on, was the feeling of a large, warm hand encasing my own.

Slowly, I found the strength to open my eyes, only to be met with bright, artificial lights and white ceiling tiles. I turned my head to the left and saw a window with the curtains drawn, cutting off most of the natural light of outside from shining into the room. To my right was a strange, yet sad sight. Dressed in dingy, seemingly day-old clothes, was a man with dark, spiked hair and tattoos covering his arms, and hands, one of which was grasping my own tightly. I couldn't see his face because he was hunched over with his head resting on the edge of the mattress, silent sobs shaking his body.

I squeezed his hand lightly and his head whipped up, his tear-filled, dark brown eyes staring into my own.

"Cass?" he asked hopefully. "Oh my god, Cass!" Before knew it he was hugging me awkwardly, as I was still lying down, but he didn't seem to care. He pulled back and placed his hands delicately on my cheeks, seemingly making sure I was really awake. "I can't believe it," he choked out.

I was so shocked. I don't even know this person, yet it seems like we're really close. Something he was about to confirm.

"I love you," he muttered, before quickly capturing my lips with his own.

I froze for minute, in a state of shock. What's happening right now? Who is this guy? Never in my life have I seen him before, yet when I wake up in a hospital after being out for two weeks, or maybe more, this dude is here telling me he loves me and kissing me? Where the hell are my parents? Why aren't they the ones that are here?

I was glad that the room was empty so there wasn't an audience watching me push on his shoulders, ultimately rejecting him. He looked into my eyes worriedly, like that was completely unordinary for me to do.

"Cass, what's wrong?" he questioned, in a scared, concerned tone of voice.

"N-nothing," I stuttered, still in a bit of shock. "But, um, can I ask you a question?"

"Anything," he breathed, shifting so he was sitting on the edge of the bed with a hand running along my arm.

I took a deep breath before speaking. "Who are you?"

Notes