Friday Cheese: The soundtrack of eternity January 27, 2012

Oh it's late, and you are so tired, so very tired. You've been working late again, and there's an ache in your eyes that just can't quite be banished, no matter how you squint or stare or try to re-focus. Your head feels as if it's lined with velvet, cat hair, and taffy - it's so hard to think right now, and every though makes you brush the insides of your head. So you try not to think so hard, so you can avoid that dreadful mess. 

You're driving home. Home - where your bed and your comforts and your real life are waiting for you, not this silly existence you loan yourself to in exchange for financial compensation. Your lovely bed. Your comfy bed. And sleep, you can't stop thinking about it - you're not drowsy (not that you can tell), but you almost lust for that delicious feeling of being perfectly wrapped up in a warm bed, so you can feel your batteries recharge. It's practically sexual, you can't help but dwell on it, because holding that blanket as you drift off into sleep would be just like spooning against a lover. 

Which is why you find it hard to believe that a few milliseconds ago, your car has hit a patch of black ice, and that spinning sensation isn't exhaustion, it's you as your car rotates around, out of control. Is it gas-brake? Is it brake-brake? Is it just holding down the brake pedal? Do you turn into the spin or outside of it? You try to remember desperately. And then it's too late, because there's a CRUMP! noise as a dent appears in the roof of your car, and you realize that you've already gone over the embankment, your car tumbling down a rocky hill. 

You finally come to a stop, but as the blood rushes to your head, you realize you're hanging upside down. The dome light inside the car won't turn on, it must have been damaged in the crash. Your ears are ringing and the blood is pounding in them as well, but your brain is screaming at you to listen, LISTEN! And that's when you hear the gurgling of water - it's sneaking in through every vent and crack and ingress, and it's rising. You can't see anything, but you feel that sudden chill as it touches your scalp. 

Deja-vu suddenly floods through you, as you realize that you've been dreaming about this day in your subconscious all your life. As you kick and struggle to free yourself from your seatbelt, you start kicking and screaming and rebelling in your head. But it's no use - part of you knows that long ago and far away, this was written. You're going to die.

And there's nothing you can do about it. 

Still, you keep thrashing as the water comes up over your forehead. You push and struggle as it comes up over your nose, and you start to lose control as your body senses that it's drowning. It covers your mouth, and even though every nerve is on fire with the urgent need to escape, you can feel how soul-stealingly cold it is. Your lungs burn, as you finally undo the seatbelt, but as you fall down, your traitorous body opens your mouth and your lungs inhale before you can even stop. And it's too late - there's no air left, no room to push the water out of your lungs. As you panic out the last bit of oxygen, you feel yourself separating from what's happening, seeing it move away, like you're in a wheelchair being backed away from a theater screen. 

Consciousness slips away, and you stop knowing anything.

 

 

For awhile, at least. Because feeling is coming back into your brain, sliding hot fingers of wakefulness back in to the cold unthought. You jerk awake, the terror of your last moments still folded around you, and then realize that there, that when, it's gone. But where and when are you now? Dimly, as someone accidentally jostles you in the ribs, you come to realize you're in a barely lit room... or hall... or... where, exactly? Because you can see vague shapes of others around you, but you can't see walls or... floors, or ceilings for that matter. It's just dark, but not dark enough to see that the people nearest you share what you are sure is the same stunned look of slight terror, and uncomprehending bewilderment. 

Suddenly, there's a CRACK! of thunder. Everyone jumps. And then... that's when you hear it... 

And you know exactly where you are. You're in hell. And when the laugh track really does start, you're about to spend eternity being hunted for sport, over and over again. And by what? Well, what's the worst thing you can imagine? 

Yes, exactly as terrible as that.