I find myself subconscious, my vision and hearing whisps of anything tangible or meaningful.
It's very bright, it's hot, and I lie on the wooden boards of a small, single padestrian bridge that hovers over a small pond.
I know where I am, logically speaking, it's a place I once called home, but now it's all symbols and noise and nothing has any meaning.
"…hey…", I hear a voice off in the distance, though staring over the top of me is the girl who's shouting for my attention.
"…hey….", she shouts again, still no sign of my deafness clearing up.
I watch her watch me, she seem to have an expression of compassion on her face, and although I lack the consciousness to be able to empathise with her empathy for me, I know that what I should do to have a better chance of truly knowing anything, is if I were to stop intending to be different all together.
Because the biggest difference between this me and my best me, is that the not-sick version of myself wouldn't feel the need to fix or control my very perception, despite being in a situation where I cannot perceive clearly.
"…come on… get up…", she tells me softly, I can't even make it out honestly, but I guess that's what she means for me.
I don't feel my body, it's like I have woken up from a seizure or I'm on my deathbed, perpetually, but I forget how to move at first as I intend to get up, then out of sheer anxiety in a feverish state I force my legs to carry my dizzied body.
She has brown hair, emerald green eyes, and is wearing a dress. Details that mean nothing to me, just dot points, nothing to imagine; despite how badly I wish I knew I was even here, I know nothing…
"You just need to… and then… okay…?", she seems to be telling me to do something.
Off in the distance I see her home, surrounded by a flower garden. I'm too dizzy to look at any single thing for any longer than a second, and it's all too bright, blurry, and hot (probably from the 'fever').
"…step… it's okay… it's okay… just… step…just one step…", she repeats herself hoping I can understand her in the few moments I can understand parts of the words in the phrase she is repeating.
I notice that she had been holding my hands, and realising that I feel no physical sensation to th weight of my own body let alone her touch, I can only imagine what sort of exhausted, stupid look is on my face as she's looking after me like this, but I'm too tired to truly care about that; whatever the face I may be making, I'm definitely making it for a reason.
I can't move. I know she wants me to take a step, but no matter how hard I intend again, I can't even force myself to move, I had truly forgotten how to do so.
She keeps repeating herself, not for any reason of getting me to understand, but to have the moments that I fade slightly back into consciousness every few or more hours (in this timeless space where the world has frozen or slown down seemingly for my sake of recovery), to not only be reminded of why I am standing forever but also to be greeted by her each time right where we left off without break from the moment I faded away from this world.
I know nothing. If only I knew where I was. If only I was… real.