“Unconscious” by Arjun Ganesh
This time, darkness wasn’t just the absence of light. It manifested itself as a creature, with ambiguous shapes and distinct images. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been in this state...time didn’t really flow like a river, it was more of a concept that had been slipping from my mind for...years? Decades? Centuries? Seconds? Along with time, my senses were luxuries I was beginning to forget, sight being the only thing simulated within the voids. Maybe it was actually a blessing; without scents, smells, and sounds, my thoughts were completely uninterrupted, and the vastness of my consciousness, or in this case, my subconsciousness, could continue to grow. I was asleep, but I felt more awake than ever, able to build a world where my control was the only influence.
My thoughts wrote themselves out in the expanse before me, and my most familiar language became the only means by which I could understand myself. I could remember words and their meanings, but the experiences from my past that had validated it were wiped, along with the distant memories of happiness, anger, and sadness. The lack of bound was exhausting; if I had the chance to vary my state of existence, even if the only other path contained a dead end, there would have been no hesitation. Ceasing to exist is a clear upgrade from my thought process, painfully visible to my own judgement. However, unlike my pessimistic intuition told me, the solitude would not last forever. There was a break in the darkness – not for light, but for the manifestation of yet another concept. This time, it was an ocean, so violent that I felt my spirit recoil as it washed over me. For a split second, my thoughts gave way to fear...actual, legitimate fear. It was soon followed by a bubbling ecstasy, then heart-dropping shame, then unbearable depression, then an overwhelming sense of confusion. Panic began to cloud my thoughts as memory after memory poured in, meeting her at the country club, her young, candlelit face opposite mine at the diner, sliding the striking diamond onto her finger, her head resting on my shoulder as we stared at the TV, the blinding headlights of a swerving car, my body sunken against the gentle covers of the hospital bed, staring at her tear-stricken face, pain coursing through my body, our fingers
intertwined, and suddenly...it was real.
I found myself staring at a charcoal ceiling, head rested against a wadded-up sweater, barely hanging off a ripped-up couch. I was completely unperturbed by the fact I was suddenly awake, mainly since I had no memory of the dream state I had been in. I might as well have just woken up from my afternoon nap. But then I saw her face from the corner of the room, expression frozen as she stared, waterfalls streaming down her pink cheeks, mouth covered by a frail, shaking hand. Her eyes had a wrinkle that I didn’t recognize, and her hair was streaked with a beautiful grey tinge. When she removed her hand, her soft, timid lips were as I had always remembered, and I narrowed my gaze to focus on their movement. It was so barely audible that I would have missed it if she didn’t move her hand. The words of a language I had no trouble recalling would continue to ring in my head like an alarm. In some respects, I guess it was an alarm.
“It’s been 31 years.”
Arjun Ganesh is a rising sophomore studying Mechanical Engineering, but enjoys expressing his creativity through writing. He thoroughly enjoys being a member of LSWA!
