What do you do when you don't know who you are?
A seismic rush leaves me brain-dead, sitting in a room with 1 over capacity. I speak softly towards the wall but not even the paint responds to my whispers. Creeping upon the hole in the door, I see you walk by. Let me out? No? Okay. I’m tired, but the sun shines through window in the ceiling. I keep telling myself I’m not alone, but all I can see are shadows of my own.
Picture perfect scantily clad femme bots grace the cover of this magazine as I try to devour your mush. It slides down the back of my throat and tries to escape but I don’t let it. I hear screaming, but I cannot trace the voice. Shrieks that make my heart hurt, my head hurt. I long for communication, but I am alone, because I only see shadows of my own.
I fall asleep, or at least I think I do. I drift into a mechanical world of purple women and bearded men. They dance around me as I sing for them. I stop for a moment and pinch myself. They stop and I’m on the floor again. I’m in my room but the purple woman is still here. She speaks to me but I can’t understand what she’s saying. Where am I? I pinch myself again, but this time it hurts. My head is raging with a fire so intense; my eyes burn and I close them. I thought I was alone, but some of these shadows aren’t my own.
The sun disappears so I try sleeping, but the lady is singing and the floor is creaking. I want to start dreaming but my head is throbbing. I throw a rock that I had kept from outside at the woman. She vanishes and a lamp falls over. You come running but you run to the lamp shards instead of me. Is everything okay? There was a lady… in purple. No there wasn’t. Yes. No. Yes. No. I sit back, feeling defeated. You leave, shaking your head, clutching the broken lamp. I know I’m not alone, and none of these shadows are my own.
The lady reappears and she asks me to dance. I’m hesitant, but I grab her hand and we spin. The room turns with us and soon it’s going faster and faster. I’m dizzy; I fall and everything is shaking. My stomach is twisting and that unfortunate mush makes a second appearance. I hold it down, but hold my tummy. It hurts. It aches. I lie down and catch my breath. The purple woman asks me if I want to continue dancing. No. I don’t. She acts hurt and disappears. Finally, once more I’m alone, no shadows linger but my very own.
I must’ve drifted off again. I wake up to tugging, violent tugging of my arms. She’s yelling. Dance, Dance! But, I don’t want to. I pull my arm back and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. I roll over and scream. You come to my rescue and I tell you, it’s the woman. You shake your head and hold me. Our whispers carry across the room, no shadows here but yours and my own.
When you leave, I take deep breaths. It’s dark in this room, but the lamp isn’t repaired yet so I have no light source. I want to read. I ask for a new magazine, but they tell me no. Frustrated, confused. Why am I here? A week ago, I was at home. Bubble baths are a thing of the past when you are forced to shower with the hose. The purple lady, and an accomplice I'm guessing, are watching me. He has a beard, but no eyes. Then, they leave and I know for a fact that I’m now alone, but why do I see their shadows and not my own?
I need to get out. The purple woman and her bearded male keep bothering me, but no one believes me. Not even you. You, who stood by me all of those years, turned on me. There is a smaller window on the other wall. My escape? Maybe. So, I won't have to be here all alone, among these shadows that aren’t my own.
I go to the window and it opens just enough for me to see down. Too far. Feeling defeated for the second time this week, I slump in the corner and a tear rolls down. I don’t know where to go. The purple woman walks over and whispers in my ear. She tells me I’m low. That I’ll never be high. She tells me that life is do or die. And that I haven’t done. I realized how very much I’m alone, and that my shadow was never really my own.