I'm Not Here
A Brief Story
I awaken suddenly, in a forest, with no sense that I have ever been anywhere else. A little man is running ahead of me. A gnome, I think, but that’s being presumptuous.
“Excuse me, sir.” I call after him. “Where are you going?”
The little man just grunts and runs faster, so I jog after him.
“Please, sir.” I call out to him. “I am a stranger in these woods. Can you at least tell me where I am?”
“I can tell you where I am, but I cannot tell you where you are.”
“But… we are in the same wood.” I say.
He stops and turns to me with furrowed, bushy brows.
“I am in the wood. You are in two places at once, or at least your body is there, in that… place… and your mind is here with me. But I am in a hurry, so if you wish to talk… keep up!”
It’s not too difficult to keep up with him, taking one stride for every three of his. I ponder the strange thing he just said to me. I do often feel that way, my body in one place, my mind in another. In fact, I rarely feel otherwise. But it was not always so. Not when I was little. Back then I could run with magical creatures through supernatural forests, and my body was right there with me. What happened?
“What happened” he says, seeming to hear my mind as clearly as if I had spoken my thoughts aloud, “is the same thing that happens to all of you lot out there. You see the world through warped mirrors and distorted glass, and you walk around blind as a rock. Forgive me,” he says suddenly, looking down as if talking to someone else, though I cannot see anyone there. “I should know better. I sometimes forget that rocks see the things that we cannot.”
“But,” I say, ignoring this last strange comment, “where is my body? If not here?”
“You know perfectly well!” he says with a dismissive wave. “But I don’t blame you for acting otherwise. I’d try to forget that disgusting place too, if I were you.”
It is a dull shock to feel the dirty couch beneath me and the limp, warm body leaning against me, all of these sensations bringing back unpleasant memories. I feel my chest convulsing but I am unable to move. The pulsing music is rattling my bones, but it sounds dull, as if I am under water. I do not want to be here. He was right.
I close my eyes and am relieved to see the forest again. But the little man is gone, and the forest looks less lush. Less vibrant. I can still feel that couch and that warm body, and a raging fire in my lungs, but the sensations fade to almost nothing, and I am able to keep walking between the trees.
The more I walk, the more I feel the forest. With each step it becomes clearer and brighter, while unpleasant memories fade from view. I can see the canopy, the beams of sunlight cutting through. I can smell growing things, and I can hear the pitter patter of feet.
“Little man!” I cry. “It’s you!”
“Oh, you’re back.” He said, looking as pleased to see me as I was to see him. “I thought you were gone for good. You made it longer than I expected, to be honest. People in your state catch glimpses, but usually that is right before they lose their body entirely.”
“In my state? Which is?”
“You and I both know you have no interest in knowing or thinking about this, so why don’t you drop the act? And you are probably leaving all that behind, anyway. Any second now, I’d say, though seconds here are not what they are out there. You are fading. Everyone can see it. Most people in your state don’t ever go back.”
“Does that mean I can stay here?” I say hopefully. “In the forest?”
“Sure, you can. But when you lose your body, you lose your mind. You will be like the Mad Hatter. If you are lucky!”
“Mad Hatter?”
The gnome smiles. “I can’t stand him!”
“Why aren’t you running anymore?” I ask him. “Weren’t you in a hurry?”
“I was,” he said. “but I arrived. I have lured you here, as I am wont to do when one of you lot shows up. Always good to keep him happy!” The gnome turns toward a large tree.
But it isn’t a tree. How did I miss it? The drooling giant looked treeish out of the corner of my eye, but hardly so when I look directly at him.
He lunges toward me and I dive between his legs, rolling to my feet and sprinting hard. The giant seems perplexed by this move and I am a good many strides ahead before he manages to turn around. His footsteps are loud and one glance back is all I need to know that he will catch me before long.
I am soon out of room to run away, at the top of a massive waterfall. To the left and right are jagged rocks that block any escape. Jumping is my only option and I don’t hesitate. I feel free for those slow seconds of freefall. Then I crash hard, into the water.
“What the fuck, dude!”
Frank rolls me over, and vomit falls from my open mouth. I gasp desperately for air as I stumble onto the deteriorating floor of the abandoned office building.
Damnit. I think, as my lungs heave in a panic. How long was I not breathing? When my lungs finally returns to normal, I only wish that that Frank had left me there. That I didn’t wake up.
The music is still blaring, the people there in varying states of intoxication. Some pace about. Some are passed out on the floor.
“Never lay on your back, dude. You know that.”
“I don’t care,” is all I can manage to say.
“So you can die? And we’d have to deal with your dead ass? And have to go to your funeral? Don’t be such a prick.”
“I could have been a Mad Hatter.”
“Dude,” Frank says, shaking his head. “You partied too hard. I’ve been there, bro, trust me. We just need to get you something to eat.”
“Mad Hatter, Frank. I think I might have liked that.”