He awoke from his sleep, again wishing he could stay that way, wishing it would end. He lost track of time a long time ago. Many centuries probably past by since he first awoke into this world. He can’t really tell how long it’s been because he doesn’t have a reference point to determine how much time has elapsed, if there even is such a thing here. All he has are his own gut feelings telling him how many days might have passed were he back on earth. He does feel time go by, that’s for sure. The long periods of boredom has never felt more real to him. He faintly remembers a time where he knew something else but this place. He still retains fuzzy images of his parents and friends back on earth, but it’s almost impossible to tell at this point if they were real or dreams he’s had, because this seems to be all he’s ever known.
He stood up and stretched. Around him was an empty white void extending in all directions. He wasn’t able to determine how far it extended because there was nothing to focus on. There was a floor because he could feel it under him while he was walking. He just couldn’t see it. It was made of the same textureless whiteness that filled the air. The only thing that existed in his world was him and a 5 foot pole that came out of the ground. The pole had a sign on it which read, “Do not venture away from me! Beyond lies a void incomprehensibly large, an infinite sea that never ends. There is nothing out there to see. If you lose track of me, you will most likely never find me again. I am all that remains real. I am what holds you together, what keeps you sane. Do not venture away from me!”
He had stopped questioning the sign a long time ago. He has grown tired trying to figure out if it was true or not, if there was something else out there, if he did need the sign to stay sane. He has attempted many times in the past to see if there was something beyond the horizon. But with no way of marking a trail that leads back to the sign, he was careful as to never lose sight of it. He’s come close to losing it several times because he went too far. Luckily for him that didn’t happen. He always made sure it stayed in view. He wouldn’t know what to do if the pole was no longer with him anymore. The pole was his world. It was the only thing that told him he was not alone, that something else existed besides him. He’s had nightmares of him venturing out too far and losing track of the pole. He remembers in his dreams running, panicking, screaming into the void, trying to capture a glimpse of it, wishing he only listened to the sign. He was relieved when he discovered that they were only dreams.
Many times he wished he could kill himself. But apparently he couldn’t die. He obviously didn’t have to eat or drink, because he would’ve died a long time ago. He tried smashing his head against the sign a few times but that didn’t work. It only gave him a bump on the head. He didn’t have any teeth or nails, so he couldn’t cut himself open and bleed to death if he wanted to. It seemed he was stuck in this place forever. This discovery has driven him to the edge of insanity and back many times. Several occasions he was ready to give up the pole and leave it behind for the chance that he might discover something else out there. He was so sick of the pole at times. He had read the sign out of boredom millions of times. The message was engrained in his soul forever. Who cares if I never see it again, he thought. But he couldn’t do it. He tried many times but always stopped in his tracks before it disappeared from the horizon. It always managed to pull him back. His conclusion was always that it was better to have its company than no company at all. He might be risking his only friend, the one thing that keeps him sane.
As far as he concluded he was in hell. Either that or it was some sick experiment that he was caught in to see what he would do. Maybe it would all end if he went far enough and showed them that he can give up the pole, he thought many times. Maybe that’s what they were waiting for him to do, seeing how long it would take him to figure that out. These questions and many more plagued his mind for eons. It was too risky, he thought. He couldn’t take that risk. There was too much at stake. On the other hand, what would he gain if it turned out to be a way out of here? He would gain everything. The dilemma is that he also gains everything if he stays, for everything for him right now happens to be the pole. He couldn’t bear to think what it would be like to walk forever lost into the white abyss. He wouldn’t even be able to tell if he’s moving. The only thing that tells him that he’s moving is the relative motion of the pole moving in the opposite direction. Without that sense of space he would surely go completely insane, and into a much darker hell. He dared not think of that. It wasn’t an option anymore.
Another million years pass by, give or take. It has dawned on him many eons ago that he is here to stay, for eternity. The millions of years that he felt go by were but a fraction of a second in comparison to the foreverness of infinite time. He has stopped thinking and trying to find new ways to pass the time. It didn’t matter he thought. No matter how much he distracted himself from the feeling of time, more of it will come.
For the first million years he spent most of that time asleep, learning how to travel in his dreams. But even that became mundane, for his mind had eventually stopped being able to imagine new things, and forgot of the old ones. The whiteness has plagued his mind numbing his ability to dream. He used to dream of wonderful places, people and experiences. Eventually his dreams became more about different textures and colors. And slowly, without him noticing, he had forgotten how to dream. There was as much a void inside his mind as outside of it. He even stopped paying attention to his pole. Sometimes he would go years without noticing it. Nothing mattered to him anymore. Time stopped having any meaning. Years would go by which now felt like seconds. Then, it was centuries that felt like seconds. Time could’ve been standing still and he would not notice. Though, every so often, maybe every million years or so, he would come back to reality to make sure his pole was still there. Sure enough, it was. He would put his arm around it and curl next to it, smile, and fade away into another million years of slumber.
Justin Bohemier
