What if you woke up and were told you do not exist? That you were nothing more than a figment of imagination created for knowledge. Would you believe the statement that you were not alive? What is living? Is it a heartbeat? Memories? Goals? Love? Hate? Pain? I have all of those, so why am I not alive?

Today's session 1 consisted of bright lights and sharp needles. I can still feel the metal piercing my skin and my eyes still see the brightness even though my room is pitch-black. I hate the dark. It's nothing more than a pause between sessions. A moment to recap what's happened and ponder over what's to come.

After session 1 and darkness, proceeds session 2. The Voice tells me that this session is to test feelings. It is always a swift change from darkness to session. The room lights up bright white and various 'things' begin to appear. The first of these 'things' is always the purple stream of light that swirls about the white room. I happen to enjoy this quite a lot because not only do I find the purple stream beautiful but its smell is intoxicating. Eventually, like everything else in this room, it dissipates.

Another event in session 2 for today is something I've seen before as well. I call it the 'shift'. It's very swift how the white room shifts into a grey murky environment. As the whiteness dies, the walls no longer remain solid. Like a switch, they liquefy around me but continue to barrier me in the never-ending circle room. And then the cold droplets of rain begin. My hands feel it first. Always. And slowly the shower consumes my whole body. I don't know how long this lasts for time is irrelevant in the room. But when it ends, I am happy—not because it is over—but because of something I can't explain, almost like butterflies rising in my stomach. Along with this unknown happiness, I am instantly dry.

I wish happiness happened more often. Why should I shut it off? Is feeling pain better than feeling happiness? I don't think so, but I don't have a choice. Pain is felt more often in the sessions than anything. The moment pain begins in the session, I immediately slip from my mind and try to escape in a fantasy of any kind. Today's was a world where the purple stream was endlessly present. It's when darkness strikes that reality hits the fantasy to the side. After session 2, this period of darkness frightens me the most. Session 3 will happen. I know this. The cycle of the room never changes. But after session 2, the period of darkness is so still and dead, it feels as though it will never end. The only comfort I receive here is from the Voice.

I cherish and hate the Voice equally. He is the one who controls the room and whatever happens in it, and he is the one who does nothing when the pain begins. But without the Voice, I am alone.

"Today has been quite illuminating."

Not for me.

"Why? Do you not enjoy the cycle of knowledge?"

I would prefer not to be a part of the cycle.

"Then what would your purpose be Figment?"

I don't know, to live.

He laughs. Every time I remotely suggest this, he laughs. The devilish bastard finds my one dearest dream a source of humor.

"So much to learn, not just for me, but also for you."

Then enters silence. My biggest enemy other than the Voice. Silence says nothing, does nothing, is nothing—and yet it haunts me ever so in the dark. It allows me to feel the pain, to fear what's next, to embrace insanity. Silence creeps under me worse than any needle, chills me further than any wet rain drop, and worst of all silence is nothing. It's what doesn't exist.

Yesterday was very different from today. Why? No reason, why should there be? Reason has never been something the Voice has shown. He does what he does, and I get what I get.

Session 1 of yesterday was full of pain. I couldn't breathe, for some reason something was in my throat, corrupting my flow of air. By the time the session was over, I learned nothing was there, that I wasn't really even choking. Why was it so real? I felt like I was choking? I felt something in my throat? But nothing was there. Just another thing added to the list of WHY.

Session 2 of yesterday was—

Lights fill the room, blinding my sight so suddenly. I try to block the blast of light by closing my eyes, but it's no use, the light tears through.

A rush of sentences then begin to materialize for me to read: You broken bastard. I love you. Don't you dare come back. You'll never amount to anything. I love you. I hope I never see you again. Just leave. I love you.

Random and sporadic they fly into my sight. The words are weapons of pain. They dig past my physical being and strike directly in my heart. Not the beating pumping organ the Voice says isn't there, but the one that projects the emotions.

Darkness hits now. After my screaming stops, silence joins in. Neither affects me this time though, they never do. Session 3 is so eccentric of the sessions that it sends my mind through a spiraling world of chaos. Disorder is the best term to describe the sensation of session 3. Amongst the disorder sticks out one sentence: I love you. It was the only one repeated and its connotation was positive in regards to the rest. But it's the one that hurts the most. I love you. Why say that with the rest of those sentences?

Nothing makes sense. Why would it make sense?

I'm tired.

So tired.

I want to sleep. I never sleep. What is sleep? How can I want to sleep if I don't know what it is? Stop questioning!

If time is irrelevant, then how do I tell the days? The sessions. Wow there's something simple. Each session is different but all unique. 1 is physical pain. 2 is emotional pain. 3 is mental pain.

"Hello Figment, still questioning your existence?"

I thought I didn't exist.

"You don't."

Then no, no questioning.

"Oh…why?"

A pause occurs. I take a moment to think and suddenly a light bulb flares in my mind.

Because I have a question for you.

"Well, Figment, what is it?"

I don't exist right?

"No, you don't."

Begin session one.

"So soon, why?"

Time is irrelevant for one who doesn't exist.

"You're beginning to accept…hmm…okay…"

The lights flash on. I smile. The white walls stare at me and I stare back at them. The needles begin to appear on the walls.

One more question before we begin.

"Okay, shoot."

If I don't exist…

I make my way over to the needles, and dangle my fingers over the sharp points of them.

If I don't exist…then I shouldn't fear doing this.

"What! No!"

I'm a step ahead this time. The devilish bastard can't stop me. My hands wrap around the needles and each chooses their directed course. My right hand shoves the needle into my brain's temple and my left hand lacerates my throat. The pain is excruciating. My eyes begin to swell, and in the lit white room darkness begins to take over.

Death. Death you bastard…if I'm not alive…then I can't die. But I am alive. We both know that. I've proved you wrong, I'm done with this game. Lights out.

*******

Black. Nearly everyone is wearing black, other than little Tommy's blue shirt and a young woman sobbing dreadfully. The young woman wears a soft purple dress while standing beside an elderly woman.

"It's my fault," she cries.

"No…don't you dare say that," tells the old woman.

"If I hadn't told—if I just—God I'd do anything to have him back." The young woman takes a tissue from the older woman's hand and wipes her tears.

"Sweetheart, it was an accident. He chose to get in the car and go. It wasn't your fault. Be thankful God allowed you to spend some time with him with what days he had left," says the older woman staring where a group of people were gathered.

"Days he had left…he wasn't awake…he was…he…" the younger woman replies, tears filling in her bright blue eyes.

"He's in a better place now, come on," the older woman says, wrapping a comforting arm around the younger woman.

The woman in the purple dress looks past the people gathering and sees him. The man she love was nothing more than an empty corpse.

 

********

Breaking News:

Brookhaven Hospital head doctor James White has been found guilty for the torture and murder of seven of his patients. The latest of which was a young man who was in a coma after a severe car accident...