Shadows Pt. 7

“Hello, Grove? Y-yeah, it's Briar. Look... I really, REALLY don't feel well... if you don't mind, I... I gotta take off tomorrow. I feel really ill... Okay. Okay. Thanks...”
I knock over a bottle as I hang up. One, two, three, four... Ugh, way too many.
“Get... the fuck... out of there...” I say as I tap the some-teenth drink against my head. Was Dad right? Is there a legitimate reason why this is happening to me? Does it happen to him, too? I don't feel so good... I sit there, watching my drink like it's some sort of show. The liquid- slowly churning as I spin it around my hand. Everything slows down. I look down into the bottle, the alcohol spinning.

“NEED.”

The word spins downward to the bottom of the glass. I throw it across the room. The smash hurts my ears. I scream as I vomit all over the floor next to my end table. No. There has to be a reason. I grab for a pen and start scribbling down notes on a piece of paper. “Need.”; a need for what? Alcohol? Already had plenty of that, thank you. I start scribbling down past words. They have to connect, they have to define something. What do they have in common? One word, not too complicated, usually pertaining to something around me. “Reincarnate”? Of what, my Mother's memory? What does that have to do with anything? It's as I said, I don't feel that anymore. She's gone. I've accepted that. But was what I saw really her? And what had I “forgotten” exactly? It's nonsense. It doesn't pertain to anything. It doesn't have a god damn meaning. My brain is simply fucking with me, this whole world is tearing me apart! I flip over the coffee table in front of me. I scream. I cry. I scream again. I turn around violently.

…

A figure stands before me.
T h i s  i s  y o u r  f a u l t .

“W-What the fuck...?” I stumble over the flipped table.
T H I S  I S  Y O U R  F A U L T ! ! !
“Who are you?! WHAT are you?!” I scream at the black figure.
L O O K  W H A T  Y O U ' V E  D O N E !
It backs me up to the wall. I have never been so terrified. This thing feels real. But it can't be...

Y o u  a s k  w h o  I  a m , w h e n  y o u  d o n ' t  e v e n  k n o w  y o u r s e l f .

“... I know who I am.”

T H E N  W H Y  H A V E  Y O U  F O R G O T T E N ? ! Y O U  A R E  A  S H E L L  O F  A 

M A N  Y O U  O N C E  C L A I M E D  T O  B E .  A N D  Y O U  H A V E  N O  O N E  T O

B L A M E  B U T  Y O U R S E L F ! !

“I have done nothing wrong! I am not who you think I am!!” I scream at the apparition.
Y O U  A R E  A  B E T R A Y E R !

“Betrayer...?” the figure turns to the wall. He tears it down as if it were wallpaper, revealing stacks of papers behind it.

Y O U  L I V E  I N  Y O U R  O W N  T R E A C H E R Y .  N O T  E V E N  O N C E 

R E G R E T T I N G  T H E  A C T I O N S  Y O U  H A V E  T A K E N ! ! !
The figure runs his hand violently across the papers spelling out a word across the wall.
“BETRAYAL.”
Y o u  h a v e  b r o u g h t  t h i s  u p o n  y o u r s e l f .

The figure vanishes before my eyes, along with the papers it had created.

I sit against the wall. Catatonic.

Shadows Pt. 6

“It's good to see you again, Son.”
He says that, but I don't know if he means it. I betrayed him. After all he's done for me. After all that's... happened to us.
“You don't believe me, do you...” he says as he pushes the rims of his glasses back.
“No, no I- I mean yes. Yes, I believe you, Dad... I just...” I struggled to get words out. Everything is just so cloudy. I don't even know if I'm even processing this situation.
“You just think that I'd be holding a grudge... Son... Look at me.” he takes my hand. He knows I don't like that. But right now I need as much human contact as I can get. I look up at him.
“You were stressed. Boxed in. Caged by everything bothering us...” He adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath. He was still upset... Why wouldn't he be-

“PAST.”
The word reflected off of his glasses as if he were reading them himself. Tears streamed down my eyes.
“Dad...” I stuttered. He looked at me. The same way he did a year ago. Broken. Before I knew it I was in his arms.
“I miss her too, Briar. So... so very much.” I have never seen my Dad cry this way. A year ago, my Mother took her own life. Hid it from us. Disappeared. Only for us to find her at the bottom of a lake. I can't even remember it... I felt terrible for not feeling the same pain Dad felt... It hit him so hard, but... I just can't feel anything.
“Dad... I'm sorry... I had to leave... Even though...” I'm all you have left... “I just had to. But now... Now I don't know what's going on...” I struggled to find words to describe it to him. He's in as much pain as I am.
“What do you mean, Briar? You can tell me anything, you know that...” he wiped his own eyes.
“I think I'm going insane.”
He sat back from me.
“Why would you think that?” he said to me, concerned, not panicked.
“I'm seeing things. Words. People. Places... They scare me, Dad. It's not like I'm drugged or intoxicated, they just happen... They even happened a moment ago... I don't know why this is happening... Yesterday I was in the park... I heard voices. Crying, concerned, asking questions, talking to me- but I couldn't respond...” I looked up at him for support. But he wasn't looking at me. He looked... grim. He didn't say anything for a while.
“Son... These are hard times we're going through. It's you, telling yourself that life is changing, and you just haven't accepted it yet.” That isn't what I was expecting... but he sounds like he actually knows why this is happening...
“What are you saying... these visions are expected to happen? Like some fucking personal rite of passage?” All I could see was red.
“Briar, relax-”
“Is this just some sort of life lesson to you? Something simplified down to playground-lesson bullshit? Are you seeing words, too? Like some fucked up side affect of a loved one winding up dead in a lake?”
“Briar, that's enough-”
“Mom's dead! Abracadabra, you're in your own little dream world- it all makes sense-”
“BRIAR!” his fist slams the table. The people around us glance our way. The park is meant for play, not father-son fights. Dad's eyes well up with tears.

But that's not what's caught my attention. Something's behind him. Someone. I look back at Dad. He's just sitting there, with a solid frown on his face. As if time had stood still... I looked back at the figure. A woman.

“Why have you forgotten?” the figure says.
“Who are you?” I question through a strained voice.
“Why have you forgotten, Briar? What happened to you?” the figure seems to be crying. I know that voice.
“....Mom?”

"REINCARNATE."
The word beams behind her, floating.
I can't breathe. I can't think. I can't talk. I have to go. I look toward Dad. He's looking at me like he's seen my Mother's corpse once more.
“What happened to you, Briar?” he whispers through a pained silence.
I ran. Ran as fast as I could. I could hear my Dad calling my name from behind me.

What happened to me...?

Shadows Pt. 5

“Out. I need to get out now. I pace around my apartment. I stare at myself in the mirror. I down a beer faster than I ever have. Maybe I can blur these images with more images, drink myself to oblivion. I reach for the fridge door one more time. No no no, it could just make it worse. I run over to the window. Aster's gone. Good. Time to get out of here.

I make my way down the stairs quickly, stumbling every now and then. Not out of intoxication, no- but out of shear panic. I don't know where I'm going. I don't care where I'm going. I just need to go somewhere to take my mind off of these words. But how the hell can I? This isn't normal, hallucinations aren't supposed to be vivid, aren't supposed to enter your life and morph things, they're supposed to simply distort your view of things, like alcohol. But... I feel like these words, that room, everything I've seen... they've been almost palpable- like the world around me has changed in the blink of an eye. I look up and focus. A park... Peaceful. No one around at all, and it's not even dark out yet. I focus in on my surroundings. Silent. Just wind and the occasional bird. I take a deep breath. Even a moment of peace is enough for me. I sit down on the bench beside me.

Aster... What he must think. Pills and alcohol? What was I thinking? Now he probably thinks I'm suicidal, as if crazy's bad enough. To him, I'm now Briar, the schizophrenic masochist. Fucking perfect. Why did he bring up Lily all of a sudden? It's not like I up and left her like everyone else, we've been apart for months now, I haven't even spoken to her. Well, maybe he's just thinking of a friend circle. Have to keep people you know close at this age, anyway. I lie my head back. Another deep breath. Moist? Funny, that usually happens when there's...

Fog. Dense, unbelievable fog, and an equally unbelievable silence. I stand up quickly and look around. What the hell... I see a figure in the distance, walking toward me. I project my voice kindly.
“Excuse me! Hey, you there!” I exclaim. It keeps walking forward, no sign of speeding up. I lower my voice. “Hey, crazy fog, huh? Can you tell me how I can get to-” I freeze. All I can see was his face. Or rather... the lack thereof. It was nothing. Nothing but skin. Another figure passes by me. Another. Another. I can hear voices... I can't tell what they're saying. They seem... worried. Concerned. Some are... crying? I back up quickly. I lose my footing and fall back into the bench. All I can see in front of me is the black liquid painted on the brick path below my feet.

“ABANDON.”









“Dad? Dad... it's... it's me. I know Dad, I know... Are you... are you busy? I need you, Dad. I need you. Right now... No, I'm not okay... Please... Please come here as soon as you can... Please...”

The papers surround me. I sit in the middle of them. Tears stream down my face. Hands shaking. They aren't going away. And all I can see is one word. All that resonates in mind is one word.

“FAMILY.”

Shadows Pt. 4

"Everything will be alright, I can make it through this. With Aster coming, I can finally get this out of my system. Papers... why papers? And why did this last word come to me through my cell phone? I mean, it has to be real, I still have the message after all. I flip open my phone for another look.
That's... that can't be right. So I may have freaked out, but I sure as hell didn't delete such a disturbing message. It's just... gone. And to think I could have showed it to Aster, it would've actually proven something. Oh god, maybe I am crazy. Now I don't even know if that message was real. Aster should be here soon, I gave him the address not too long ago, he said it should take him about half an hour. Should I call him? No, that will only make him panic. I look at the clock. Still got five minutes until he's here. I rush over to the bathroom and splash water onto my face. I breathe deeply. A loud bell rings from the hallway as I nearly dive my head backward. God, I'm way too jumpy. I have to relax or else Aster will just plain send me away.

“Comin', hold on!” I yell as I run to the door. I yank it open, washing the water from my face. Aster seems to have been looking elsewhere. He looks at me and smiles.

“Long time, Briar. You look thin.” Aster says as he gives me that stupid grin of his.

“You look fat.” He bursts into laughter, we both know that's bullshit, the guy is practically a figure of perfection. And yet, he looks different. It's been way too long. “Come on in, Aster. Want a drink?” I open my fridge and scan through my alcohol supply.

“No no, it was actually quite a hazardous drive comin' here. I'd rather not risk it, it was hard enough sober.” he says as he sits down by the island. I pass him a soda and sit across from him. “Nice place ya got here, Briar. Beats your old place by a mile, huh? Open, roomy, yet quaint. I like it.” he says as he examines the room.

“Yeah, I haven't gotten too used to it yet, it's only been about a week or two since I really settled in.” I crack open a beer.

“I wish you had told me about this whole move-in situation. You really caught me off-guard.” Aster looks hurt.

“I needed to get out. Things just didn't seem right back home. Call it cabin fever, I suppose.” That was true, I just never felt right.

“You got a job? Holding up a steady lifestyle, perhaps a woman in your life?” He smiles, but I can sense that he doesn't mean that jokingly.

“Yes, yes, and no. Got myself a steady gig at the Blank Page down the street, it keeps me busy so I don't do much. As far as women are concerned, too much is on my mind to worry about it.” Or even think about it, for that matter.

“Yeah, I don't know what's up with you and the dating scene, man. You practically drifted away from Lily for God knows what reason. Hell, maybe you just don't like to be tied down.” Aster laughs off that serious memento. Lily. I shake the thought of her out of my head.

“Things just didn't seem right with her, Aster. Everything didn't seem right. Everything still doesn't seem right...” Here goes nothing.

“Really? You sound alright to me.” Aster says.

“No, Aster. I've been unwell.” How the hell is he going to take this...
“Unwell? You mean like, sick?” He leans in, concerned.

“I don't really know. I...” I sigh. Get it together, Briar. “I've been hallucinating things lately.” Aster gives me a grim look. He looks around, confused.
“You serious?" He gives me a look of disbelief. "Have you been taking anything, drinking too much or something? Hallucinations aren't something that just happens.”
I sit there, silent for a moment.

“...Hm. It must be the sleeping pills I'm taking, I suppose...” Aster wouldn't understand. I can't tell him.

“With alcohol in your system? It's no wonder. You should be more careful, Briar. I mean it.” I've never seen him so serious before.

“Alright, alright. I'll be more careful next time.” Damn it all...

“You better. You sure there's nothing bothering you, Briar?”

“I'm alright, Aster. Promise.”

“Okay. Listen, you can call me whenever, alright? I'll be around. I'm gonna get going.” He says as he stands up. I smile.

“We're such different people now, aren't we, Aster?” I reminisce on the memories. He smiles at me.

“I guess so. Heh, I suppose we finally-”

“FINISH.”

I see nothing but that word splattered across the walls. Across the table. Across his face.

“-ed growing up. See you around, Briar.”

He leaves.

…

The door closes behind Aster. I sit there, catatonic. I burst into tears.”

Shadows Pt. 3

“It took a few calls, but he finally picked up. I know I haven't spoken to anyone from my home for a long time but... I'm sure they'll forgive me. It's not like I did anything wrong, if that's what you're thinking. But it's just that side of everyone that comes out when someone they hold dear leaves them. Let's face it, I had to move on with my life, find a new side of me. Well... I'm not sure how happy I am with this new “side” of me, whatever craziness I have. It could just be homesickness. That's normal, right?

“Briar. And to think, I was about to start putting up your name on milk cartons.” That strikes me. Until he started laughing. Aster, you sick bastard. “How are you holding up over there, my old friend?” His smile is almost palpable through the phone. It's good to know that I haven't been forgotten.

“I've been well, Aster. Got myself situated with a simple job and a nice place on the outskirts of the city.” I don't know if I should tell him just yet.

“Oh? Heh, you'll have to give me a tour some day! I'd love to see your new place.”
“That's actually what I was calling about. I need someone to talk to, is there a chance you could come over this afternoon?” Here come's the hardest part...

“This afternoon? Sudden, don't you think, Briar? ...Hm. Alright. I've got nothin' better to do. Pass me the address and I'll be right over.” Aster hangs up. He was never good with goodbyes. Not just on the phone either. In fact, I don't even remember saying goodbye to him... Yet, he's still coming. I'm feeling better already.

…

Not again. There's that sound again. Papers ruffling. No... This has to stop. I close my eyes. Please, not now... I open my eyes. No papers. Thank God. My phone starts to vibrate. Oh right, the address. I flip it open. Strange, that isn't Aster's number. In fact all it says is “34”. Must be the wrong number. Whatever, I'll read it anyway.
“REALIZATION.”

Oh God... What are you trying to tell me?! I text back. W...h...o...a...r...e...y...o...u...?
An immediate response.

“REALIZATION. REALIZATION. REALIZATION. REALIZATION. REALIZATION. REALIZATION. REALIZATION. REALIZATION. REALIZATION. REALIZATION..."

It went on forever. I need Aster... I need someone to talk to... What the hell is going on...”

The Unconscious Chapters -/- Shadows Pt. 2

W h a t  d o e s  i t  a l l  m e a n ?

This page... It just seems so familiar. I know I haven't written it, I'm positive of that. This isn't even what I was working on prior to this catastrophe. And yet it has my name. Ravine. There could be no other. It has my style. It has my words. It has my method. And yet, I know I haven't written it. It's been a month since the first page, and a month since I've written about this occurrence. Since then, I've been finding these everywhere I go. I've tried to leave the house, but something is holding me back. A nagging feeling. An uncertainty. Sometimes, a horrific terror. It's as if the Unconscious wants me here. It wants me to know. To marinate in my thoughts. I've contemplated insanity twice now. My reflection doesn't terrify me anymore, but at the same time, I don't understand why I still can't see myself. I'm still faceless, still nobody. But the Unconscious hasn't kept me alone completely. These papers, they keep returning. Appearing out of thin air, falling from above me. I've even grown to expect them. I haven't read them yet, but I think the Unconscious would want me to. There has to be some sort of message in them, an escape from this madness. No use putting it off anymore. Page 2. Show me the answers.

“The rest of the day seemed normal to me after that strange encounter with the room. It was stuck in my mind all day, and I couldn't shake it. I drifted off as I worked, I don't think Grove noticed. If he did, I'd probably be out of a job. No one likes a dreaming worker, even if this is a library. An imagination, maybe, but I can't shake the feeling that it wasn't just a mild-mannered daydream.

...Who am I kidding? I'm not insane. I haven't had a single mental issue in all of my li-... I stopped. What was I thinking just now? That's strange... I heard the rummage of papers from between the bookshelves. Something probably fell. I better pick that up. I walked over into the biography section where the noise came from. Strange, nothing seems out of place. I called out.

“Hey Grove, are you cleaning up somewhere?”
“Huh? No, I'm just doing my rounds, everything seems to be in place. Do we have a customer?” he asked.
“No, no, I just thought I heard something. No business yet.”
I walked back to the service desk. I went back to my thoughts. Slow business today, not too bad. I think I might be getting paid a little too much for this! Heh, what is it 'they' say? A smile. This is the li-

A flash. Papers falling again. What is going on... All of a sudden I'm back in the room.

“No... I can't be crazy... This isn't happening again...” I mutter to myself in a panic.

The words are still illegible. The back wall. Another word splattered to the pages.

“LIFE.”

I snap out of it. I'm on the floor. I feel my face. What, what is this... tears? Have I been crying? No, Grove would have heard me. I stand up. He comes out from one of the aisles.

“I heard something fall, was that you? ...You look beat! Are you feeling alright, Briar?”
Am I feeling alright? I'm not so sure...

“Yeah. Yeah I think I'm okay. Just stumbled is all.”

Grove seems to be concerned. But that wipes into a smile quickly.

“Closing time soon, clean up your space and I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe then we'll have better business.” he laughs as he heads up the stairs to his office.

Life... Another great question for me today. No rest for me when I head home, I think I just gotta tell someone about this, someone who won't say that I'm crazy. I clean up quickly and efficiently and leave the store.

...Yeah, maybe that's all I need.”

The Unconscious World

-Being-

I sat down by the window. Rain. Again. I looked through my reflection out into the Unconscious. It's trying to tell me something. There has to be a reason for all of this. This madness. This torment. The unbearable strangeness of it all. I look down at my hands. Not even a single fingerprint. I rub my hands together. Feeling. Cold. Strange. I don't feel cold. I look up at the window once more. I focus my eyes. My reflection. Blank. I place my hand upon my cheek. Cold. So very cold.

W h o  a m  I  ?

The figure in the endless darkness was trying to make me realize that very question. It isn't about who he is. He is me. I am him. Rather, he has become me, and I have become him. I have become that which shouldn't exist. I have become nothing. I stand up and stare out the window for what seemed like an eternity. Lost in thought. Lost in my own mind. Night fell. I grew tired. As I walked over to my bed, something caught my attention. A piece of paper, before my very eyes, fell from the ceiling; as if it had appeared out of thin air. It lands in my hand as I reach out for it. Handwriting. It looks... too familiar. I sit down at my desk and examine the page.

-Shadows-

"Shadows - By Ravine"
"The alarm rings next to my bed. I hit the snooze button. The first day is always the hardest in a new apartment, especially when you're alone like me. No friends, no close family, and definitely no significant other. What is my purpose here after all? Well, I guess that's what I have to figure out today. I heave myself out of bed and get on my usual clothes. Things seem the same as before. Normal day, normal circumstance, just a not-so-normal environment. I put on my shoes and head out the door. Not a bad neighborhood, kind of serene, actually. This walk will bore me soon enough, might as well enjoy it while I can. A few blocks down, I arrive at The Blank Page; a quaint building with black, rustic wood finish and a golden font for the sign. It reminds me of a tavern, only less dirty and full of drunks, and plenty more books. It is a book shop of sorts, after all. I walk inside. I hear my name called from across the room.
"Briar?" called a tall man with golden spectacles.
"That's me." Huh. That sounded cartoon-y. Hope he doesn't think I'm a simpleton.
"Pleasure to meet you, sir! You may call me Grove." He extends his hand. "When will you be planning on starting your work here?"
I shake it firmly. "Show me where to go, sir." I smile at him.
He turns around and heads toward an opening between two very large library shelves. I follow him closely. We walk a good few paces before he makes a sharp turn into a very narrow walkway between some more shelves. He starts gaining pace. He's pretty fast for a big guy... I rush to catch up with him. He turns a corner. I turn as well. But before my very eyes, I'm suddenly in a large room. "What? Where... how did I..." I stammer to myself. The room is covered from floor to ceiling with endless amounts of pages. As I try to pick one up, it seems to suck itself to the floor. I get down on my hands and knees to a read a page. "What the hell..." The font seems to get smaller as I get closer to it, I can't make it out. I looked up toward the back of the room. That's when I saw it. In huge, black painted letters:
"ENDING"
"Are you alright, Briar?"
I blink.
"Huh?" I stammer. The room is gone.
"You sort of zoned out for a moment. I know, the collection is spectacular, isn't it? Well come on, no use standing around jaw-dropped, I'll show you to your stations!" He continues down the narrow passage. What in the hell just happened? That was no ordinary daydream. What did that message mean? Ending? Whose ending? Mine? I'm over-thinking this. It was probably just a daydream after all. I continue down the alleyway after Grove."

The Unconscious Prison

-Death-

Cold. So very cold. I sat there. Catatonic. This can't be real. This can't be possible. Two months. It's been two months since I could last put words onto paper. I couldn't think. I couldn't sleep. I dared not leave my apartment. Tea tasted bitter. I couldn't keep clean. I couldn't keep sane. Still can't. I stumbled over to the bathroom. I couldn't bare the sight of myself. I calmed my nerves and looked up. Fog. I wiped it with my hand. I was struck with terror. I fell back. Crash. Pain. Blood. Darkness.

-Vision-
I floated endlessly. Black depths. Endless darkness. I wondered where I was. I wondered what happened to me. All I could remember was the horror in the mirror. All of a sudden, there it was. A figure in front of me. Featureless. Faceless. I found ground in the nothingness. I stood up. He stood up with me. I walked forward. So did he. I looked at him closely. Though he did not have eyes, he looked through me. I reached out. Our hands touched. I felt my entire being surrender. My skin evaporated into thin air, and I was simply a being. My body entered his, and soon enough, he became me. I looked down at my hands. Smooth. Featureless. He asked me.

"Who are you?"

I returned the question. He smiled at me.

"Aren't we asking the same question, ready to yield the same answer? Who are we?"

I felt my face. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

-Purpose-
I lie on the bathroom floor. Awake. I stood up slowly. My head. A cracked toilet seat lie behind me. I rubbed the back of my head. Blood. I'd fix that up later. I turn around. The mirror. My face. Nothing. No eyes. No mouth. A faint shape of my nose. I have become that which I have no knowledge of. I do not even know myself. Who I am. What I am. Even now I struggle to speak. Struggle to write.

W h a t  h a s  t h e  U n c o n c i o u s  d o n e  t o  m e  ?

The Unconscious Search

-Confusion-
I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even bare the taste of my usual morning tea. This was bothering me. I couldn't even begin to fathom what had happened. Forest was gone, or at least gone from my world. He isn't dead, yet he isn't alive. He just doesn't exist. I slam my fist on the table where the photo album lie. Cold tears run down my face from the utter shock and confusion. Something is wrong, this just can't simply happen, it's impossible. Someone is playing a trick on me. Someone is trying to crack me open. I closed the wretched photo album and threw it into my briefcase. If there was one person who would know what had happened to Forest, it was Rose. She was closest to Forest, had to be, they were engaged for Christ's sake. I walked downstairs and out of my apartment. The Unconscious was dreary today, foggy, with a slight chance of a storm. Clouds shifted above me in a circular pattern. Peculiar. I tied my briefcase to my moped and hopped on. I took a deep breath. I'm going to find out what's going on.

-Brink-
This may be the only time I've ever felt unsettled during a ride through the Unconscious. It usually calmed me, it usually opened my mind, opened my heart to inspiration. The wind on my face, the sights passing me by on each side. It was a spectacle to be moving at such speeds. But now, now it just felt like my focus was streamlined. I didn't think, I didn't wonder, I just knew where I had to go. The fog was getting thick. I could see no further than ten feet in front of me. Suddenly, everything was unbearably quiet. It wasn't normal like the quiet you hear in an empty room or the silence of a city in the morning. It was an eerie silence. It felt almost humanoid, like a presence. I came up to a large bridge. I am not a stranger to this bridge, in fact I come here almost once a week to watch the sunset over the water. Freedom Bridge. The fog made it seem like it was suspended in some sort of void. My inspired thoughts were clouded by fear, this was almost too much. As I drove over the bridge, the pavement became cracked and rigid. I lost control, felt my hands slip over the handlebars. I skidded to an immediate stop, trying to gain my composure. I wheeled my moped over to the side and walked down the road. It was never like this before. A lone rock lied on the ground next to me. Curious, I kicked it down the street. Smack. Smack. Smack smack. Silence. Strange. I walked down a little further. Before I could proceed, I felt light. I felt uneasy. I looked down. The bridge was cut off, as if the other half had cracked down and fell into the abyss. I stood at the edge, dumbfounded. Something caught my eye. I looked at the pavement. Someone had scratched into the pavement. As I read it to myself, an unknown voice had read it for me.

"Prison."

I stood up. I shot around quickly. A black figure stood twenty feet away from me. I yelled out to him, asked him who he was. I blinked. He was standing two inches from my face. His body and face encased in shadow. And before I could even scream, he lunged his arms out. The bridge shrank as I fell. Further and further. The wind rushed through like a million spears. It didn't end. Faster. Faster. Further. Further. Faster. Further. Faster. Further. Ground.

Sweat. Panic. Shock. My bed. Again. No. That was too real. My hand. Pain. Searing pain. I looked at it. Blood. Words.

"Prison."

The Unconscious Tale

-Arrival-
I sat outside in the beautiful weather today while I waited for Forest to arrive. I look at my watch, quarter to twelve. I normally come to The Raven every so often to take in the world, drink tea and write up ideas for my novel, but today is different. Among the faces I could not recognize, the blurs of life passing by me, one stood out most of all. It was as if time had stood still for all of these years. I stand up. I don't say a word. I look at my old friend, and I take his hand. He looks me in the eye. My emotions swell up and I embrace him. Oh, how the memories came rushing back. We sat down and he ordered the old usual, english breakfast and an almond biscotti. We went on and on about this and that just like we did during yesterday's phone conversation. Then I finally was able to squeeze in the question, the question that had been aching me all night long.

-Change-
I asked him why he was here, in The Unconscious, of all places. He should be halfway around the world by now.  He told me that he had to tell me in person, that it was extremely important. He was getting married. My heart sank. The years have gone by so fast. He finally proposed to Rose. I can still remember when he first told me the news of their relationship. I shook is hand, holding back tears, and told him congratulations. But then he asked me something. He asked me to be his best man. I smiled. I opened my mouth to tell him I would be honored. No words came out. I tried again. Silence. He looked at me. Hurt. I tried to tell him I couldn't speak. He started to stand up and walk away. I got up and ran toward him. I reached out to grab him but I couldn't move. He looked back at me, his face blurred. I could not recognize him anymore. Before my very eyes, he dissolved into sand. As I tried to call out his name, I woke up in a deep sweat. I look at the clock. 3:00 AM. I tried to call Forest around nine. No answer. Around ten o'clock. Nothing. At eleven, I went to The Raven. He never showed up. When I got home around four, I looked through an old photo album, reminiscent. But something was off. There wasn't a single picture of Forest and I. It's as if he had never existed.

The Unconscious Thoughts

-Clouds-
Hello again. It is a fine Friday afternoon as I look out my window and watch the clouds roll by. I relax as a light, yet hopeful piano sonata plays on my laptop. I sip a hot cup of tea made fresh, ginger peach. I take in each sip and breathe deeply, a sort of heavenly sanctum resides in the few square feet I stand in, here by the window. I watch as people pass by on the ground floor, going about their business. I think to myself circumstances of the day, what I will be doing, what needs to be done. So I figured why not sit down and write, let my thoughts flow into words. I drink my tea and think about my life as is, where it will lead me today. Perhaps I shall I go out into the Unconscious with a few acquaintances, spend the night among friends. Perhaps I'll try something new from my cookbook, have a glass of fine wine and listen to a touch of classical music. Maybe I'll delve back into my novel. I haven't worked on that in a while. The phone rings. Interesting, no one calls much anymore.

-Forest-
Forest, my good man, it has been a while. Our conversation went on for a solid hour, talking about family, friends, the usual banter. He has always had my back no matter what I chose to do in life, and he was especially excited about the book. He wants to know more, more plot, more of a synopsis. I tell him it is far from ready. He sighed with disappointment, but I smile and tell him that it will be worth the time. He tells me he will be in town tomorrow. Most intriguing. I made a date with him, and we said our goodbyes. I smile, deep in nostalgia as I hang up the phone. Most intriguing indeed. So I ask You... How do your friends impact your life?

The Unconscious Night

-Entrapment-

I sit in my room and think about the current events. I stare out the window on this cold and rainy night, watching the drops fall down like passing memories. I think back to recent events and the confusions that follow them, and how I came to be in the life that I am currently in. All I can think about is Her. I shouldn't, but there's nothing I can do about this mystery We call love. The problem is the fact that She is a book I have read, and read well. She is no stranger to me, in fact I can call Her my best friend. However, We have always had an attraction toward one another. One fateful week, We did what should have been done years ago. The moment was not as romantic as I had hoped, but I was in Euphoria nonetheless. Her lips were soft, much softer than I had anticipated. It was something I had only hoped for in my dreams. Time passed throughout that weekend, my love for Her grew and grew. She would kiss me tenderly as I tried to talk, spreading my words apart. With each kiss, focus was lost more and more. It was much more than I could ever dream of. But reality broke down on Us. She was heartbroken. Her heart was broken by a man whom I myself call my best friend. I entered this sticky situation knowingly. I was ready for all of the punches. I was ready for Her. But reality got in the way. Now Time is all that stands before me. Painstaking time. Her heart must mend, while mine weeps for her embrace once more. All I can possibly desire now is Her love.

-Silence-
My hands wander as I type, and I notice that the Unconscious is particularly silent. The rain had ceased its war against my window and the piano sonata emanating from my speakers have quieted abruptly. It is quiet. A chill sends itself down my body, not in fear but in loneliness. I switch the music back on in hopes to lose myself in memories. The kiss. The embrace. The sweet words. I try to forget the present. I dare not live in the past, but the past isn't past when it was only a week ago. It's funny how I told Her how all I wanted right now was to simply see someone, meet someone new, learn more about them. She was better than that. I already know Her, and I knew that I wanted Her. But now my mind wanders to what it wants now. Either Her, or someone new, stands in front of me. I ponder what steps I should take. My heart tells me to see what Time decides. And so I will wait. I look out the window. I think about that night. How I wish that that night occurred long ago. My heart wonders how different things would have been. And so I ask You tonight. What if things were different in your life?

The Unconscious Mind

-Prologue-
You're probably wondering who I am. Where I come from. How I got here. Why You should care about me. You may call me Ravine. Where I come from is not important, but that I live in a town I like to call the Unconscious. My own world where the people have stories untold, their secrets locked away, entire legacies left undiscovered.

-Curiosity-

This world I speak of is real. It is the world You live in. It is simply the way I perceive it that makes it different. My world of the unknown, immersed in the Unconscious. How did I get here is a question that everyone should know, why I choose to talk to You today. I feel that the world should see Herself differently. Yet You probably still ask why I chose this path. That's simple. For my own amusement. This world is full of mysteries, and I would give anything to unlock every single one of them.

-Anonymity-

I find myself wanting to wander streets. I find myself wanting to sit down with a stranger and ask them what their story is. I to this day have yet to take such leaps. So I stay in my world of wonder, curiosity is my very being, yet everyone around me is filled with their own anonymity. They are blank faces walking past me on the street. And so I ask... Who are You?