Something New

I could not believe that this was what existence was. Then again it was impossible to be alive or dead, you just could not tell. There was only nothingness yet I could think. There was no floor beneath my feet, a feeling of nothingness enveloped me; no hot, no cold, not even the air that surrounded me. A dark vastness, nothing to see, nothing to feel, not a single sound to be heard. Moving was an abstract thought; with nothing to feel whether I was moving or not was a mystery, with nothing to see whether I was forward backwards or upside down was irrelevant. Yet, before me, I knew it was there. A door, without a handle nor a light slipping from beneath.

I could not quite be sure what it was never had I ever came across something other than nothing. But still being there with no light I could not see it. Even without sight at the depth of my soul I sensed it being there an actual something.

Reaching out I touched it, a cool smooth texture stretching to infinity, but so unfamiliar was this sensation to me. I have never felt before. The cold pierced my skin like needles, shooting strait to the bone.

Nothing was there for me. Nothing but nothingness, this door must be a way out, an end to this endless infinity of nothingness. But how do I open a door with no handle, not a window, crack or key hole through which to peer? Just extensions of the nothingness in which I reside; Still, this door is different it is a final barrier to the nothingness. It is there I can feel it with my hands; it is not made of nothingness, there is actually something there. As much as a sensation similar to an electric shock rattling my body I yearned to feel it again. I pressed my body to it, letting the sensation of its being fill the recesses of my mind, and longed for the other side.

The longer I stayed there the more it stung, sending jolts through my body. But further past the pain there was an elation that made me feel… alive. Like something extraordinary has just been discovered. When I was touching it the void around me felt distant, I felt like I could escape. What has trapped me my whole life does have an end. I know that now. I can feel it now.

My escape, I can feel it pressed up against me. There must be a way by. I pushed against its hard surface but it would not budge. Still I pushed on it hoping for something to happen but slowly the feelings of my fingers changed from a twinge to a horrible pain and were gone. The fingers I have just begun to know, once again ceased to exist.

It was as if they had disappeared or like they were torn away. When I first started pushing it felt cold but not terribly so. Then it changed and there was pain climbing from the tips, a nibbling crawling up through my fingers eating them away.

Then they were gone.

I reached to brush my finger tips along the face of the door but I felt nothing. Neither the injection of cold nor the twinge of a texture was meeting my finger tips. I tried to reach further past my finger tips but I could not. There was something in the way of my reaching out further.

Was it possible that even though I could not feel it, that it was still there?

I placed my palm to where I thought the door still hung, my fingers were oblivious but down my palm I could feel it still. That twinge of cold through my skin. My heart soared knowing that what must be my way out was still there. But I withdrew my hand. I did not want to lose this feeling, not any more than I already have.

I tried to move my fingers but I could not tell if they were working or not. If they were there it was as if they were dead, limp and lifeless hanging from the top of my hand. Try and try again there was nothing, but then from the inside I could feel something it was faint but growing and it hurt, it hurt but it was something. A burning drifting down from my arm, lazily flowing to my dead finger tips. It was as if my blood was replaced with burning oil pumped through my body by my very own heart.

I clenched my fist. They were moving I could feel that again but they were stiff and hard like the skin has been stuffed to full and stretched taught. This sensation did not cease before I was reaching out again.

When my fingers reached the door pain again shot down my arm, it was not cold, no the cold burned. I reached out to it with my other hand but it was the same cold tinge as before.

I leaned against the door gritting my teeth against the pain shooting through my hand. Waiting in the dark as it slowly faded away.

There must be a way through. Every door can open even one without lock or key. The door seemed solid and there was not anything to grab to pull. There was no end to it in any direction I could not go over nor under or around. There was not ant weakness to the barrier no cracks or dents, holes nothing for me to use to my advantage. Maybe the door was a challenge but oh I wanted to make it through.

I pushed against the door, ignoring my fingers. The surface was smooth, yet my hands did not slip. The longer I pushed the harder I shoved pressing myself to it; the door just never seemed to grow any warmer. The pain from before came back. Starting at my fingertips I was cold then the cold grew climbing up my arms. It want even to my elbow yet when a second wave of numbness began, again starting at my fingertips working its way up building on the cold. What I still do not understand is how so quickly a sense of nothing a complete lack of touch can swing back around more horrible than before into burning pain. The third wave shot up my arm but I was not about to give in.

I let my elbow give in collapsing me into the door I pushed harder with my shoulder to it letting it go numb and burn just like the palms of my hands. The door as too strong and the surface held fast. The pain started climbing down my arm along my bones but there was no use in stopping. It could have been me being stubborn but the pain was better than nothingness. I would rather have spent the rest of my life in pain than be trapped in the eternal nothingness.

I pushed harder letting my hand drift along the surface searching for any change at all. It was my only hope to make it through the door even if I never made it through I still had proof if even only to myself that the nothingness is not even boundless it does come to an end. There is something out there that is more than nothing.

I had no choice I kept pushing, every dimension of my mind was waiting in hopes for something to happen when I fell smacking my head into the door. I reached up sliding my hand down its face the hard surface had an indentation, a smooth curve where I had been pushing. It could be done it was bent it gave in when I decided would not. I stood up continuing running my burning hand over the surface only to feel it pull itself back into shape, flat, infinite, unyielding.

Reviews

[J. Ghalden]

Good opening, though you have commas where they shouldn't be, and places where they should don't have one. (Don't worry, I do it too. >.