Leaving the Light Ch1 unedited excerpt

When I awoke next I was not at home, in a hospital, or any place that I knew, it was dim and the air was humid. I was so dizzy that I could not even raise my head without getting nauseated, of course I didn't have the strength to raise my head so I had no worries about messing myself with my own sickness. My eyes darted about the room frantically, but they were unclear, still fuzzy from the deep sleep I had been in, but it wasn't long until I saw a form and now with something to focus upon I put all my strength to it, and before me appeared an old worn face that wore a cracked smile. "Ah, good you're awake, past the worst of it, he was afraid he had killed you?"1

"Who?" My insatiable curiosity had gotten the best of me and I was more concerned about what I was doing here than my health, when he didn't answer I asked "Where...?" I wasn't able to get out the rest of the question for a bloody coughing fit had taken me.2

"Water." he called to someone, then he bent down to me. "You need to take it easy." He placed the glass to my mouth and most the water fell to the ground as he poured it through my weak lips. "All you need to know will come in time." Thinking back now, he could never have been more right.3

He labored over me for the next few days until he had nursed me back to some semblance of health, and when I was strong enough to sit that was the moment my learning began. I took in the room in all it's horror and glory. 4

It was packed with more people than I could count and not one of those faces portrayed happiness, each had a sullen and resigned look to them as if they were zombies, and looked something of the sort with the scars and limps. My first thought was that there had been a bomb that had gone off in the vicinity of my home and I was in some sort of rehabilitation center, but no faces looked familiar and the scars were not fresh, these people had been here for a long time and their familiarity with one another, that I now noticed, proved that. The people huddled in groups and talked in hushed voices so that the room never grew above a whisper, almost as if they thought someone was listening, and perhaps they were. Unfortunately my hearing had much to be desired at the time and could not hear a word that was being spoken except those directed solely at me, and sometimes not even then. And whenever I spoke, my voice seemed louder than ever above the crowd, even as I attempted to whisper.5

The glory of the room laid in the technology that I could see from my bed. The medical equipment here was like something out of a science fiction movie any doctor would kill to get his hands on, and thankfully not a needle in sight. Yet I had no idea how badly needed was these medical wonders until later. There was a second chamber somewhat large from what I could see of it, what my ears lacked my eyes made up for, there was a large kitchen and the lights shining off the hanging pots glistened and flashed about both rooms, near the kitchen was what appeared to be an activity center with old fashioned board games, there were rows upon rows of beds that stretched out beyond my vision, and through it all were hoards of people.6

There were others in the medical facility being treated for one thing or another. Even as I sat there one of their monitors took on a flat line. There was an onrush of human movement to the bed. But not one attempted to resurrect the patient. None of the wonderful equipment was utilized to bring him back to life, no heart pumps, not even CPR. The people just stood around the bed and looked at the poor soul. Perhaps not so poor as the sheet was pulled over the corpse's head I heard one woman say "Go in peace Fred, you've finally made it." I began to wonder exactly what I had gotten myself into. Some sort of religious cult? Or was that just their idea of a funeral?7

The people began to disperse soon after that back to whatever they had been doing before the death occurred, and I went back to watching them. I didn't really learn that much from what little I could see. Without a clock, or sun, for I could see no windows near, I could generally tell when it was time to eat by watching those approach the kitchen, though the food being prepared there was in far more excess than what even this large amount of people could eat. I watched the habits of a few individual people as they would converse and interact with others, but nothing substantial came of it. It had occurred to me, from the small snippet of conversation I could catch, that these people were not here of their own free will same as I. However, I still had no clue as to why, where or how.8

As I had always been used to, not many people had attempted to speak with me. Oh there were a few feeble attempts, people came by said "Hi, I'm so and so. Everything's going to be fine. Blah blah blah." But in the end they walked away and I would not see them again for a few days.9

So it had come that over that first week of consciousness in that place I had watched a lot and learned little. But the entire time I had the overwhelming feeling I myself was being watched. But not once did I see anyone no matter how fast and hard I looked. I soon resigned the feeling to paranoia. The whispering about the place was unnerving enough, and the fact that no one would tell me where I was or what I was doing there just heightened my delusions. 10

I had begun another typical day. The doctor gave me drugs to help in my rehabilitation but confined me to the bed despite my want to walk around. I had even begun of late to reject the drugs as I feared that they were feeding the paranoia, ironic no? However in the end, no matter how strong my will to do otherwise, I obeyed. 11

Having nothing better to do I did what I had done every day. Watch the monotony around me, staring through that door to the kitchen. The next thing I noticed, which had come as a surprise to me as there was no one there a millisecond before, was a man standing in the doorway directly in my line of vision to the kitchen. His eyes were glued on me and did not waver. That in and of itself was strange as I've never had a man look at me in such a way, as I've mentioned I was not in top physical condition. Yet he was there unmistakably looking at me with those sharp dark, nearly black, blue eyes, and just a crack of a smile. To say he was handsome would be a wild understatement. 12

You may have heard of a movie star from the 20th century named Brad Pitt? No? Well anyway, the man before me put beautiful Brad to shame. If there was a mold for the perfect man, he would be the model. His long slender yet round and muscular face gave off a softness that welcomed all onlookers. And his well toned muscles could easily be seen through his thin loose fitting white shirt. Not to mention the nice bulges in all the right places below the belt. I found myself unconsciously drooling and thus in an awkward and embarrassing position as I knew he was watching me. I quickly wiped away the dripping saliva and watched as his smile broadened to show perfectly formed white teeth.