I could see nothing, as though my eyes were closed and there were no such illumination left in the world. I reached up to touch my eyes to verify that they were truly open. They were, but all I could perceive was an unsettling, unearthly silence. As the minutes passed in that screaming void, I sensed a steadily growing sense of turmoil, of which- unrelated to the sensory deprivation- I could not otherwise articulate why. I grew increasingly aware of a previously undetected low pitch rumble in my head, as though I were listening to the very sound of my nervous system firing in a panicked attempt to create any form of stimulus. I listened for my heartbeat- seeking anything other than the grating, ominous hum- anything familiar to shift my focus to. I could not find it. I again pressed my hand to my chest, but neither was it there.
I could not determine if the maddening hum was growing in magnitude, or simply my awareness of it.
In the pitch vacuum, the darkness was somehow tangibly heavy, as if it could be touched; leaden and suffocating on every inch of my skin. The nameless feeling of an urgently unrelenting siren continued to reverberate through my frame, of a sound unheard but felt in its entirety. As the conjectured hours passed, I struggled to continually take an objective step back and – though on no reliable basis- reassure myself that I was fine and to not allow myself to become gripped by the feeling. After all, absolutely nothing was happening, nor had it in the immeasurable amount of time I had been standing, now sitting here. But it remained umappeased, that something was deeply wrong. I could get up and attempt to move about in the darkness, but it whispered inside- as though of an ancient knowledge- that there was only more infinite nothingness all-encompassing me.
I remained waiting in that grim darkness for a time seemingly far too long to ever become of any change, meaning, or message of value. I continued to remind myself that though I knew not if anything loomed in the blackness, at least nothing awful had happened- but I could still find no peace inside as I continued to wait for that which I was no longer sure was. I could not ignore the voice of Fear inside- the voice of accusation and condemnation to a presently unknown yet tormented end.
Had I not endured death, torture, perpetual disappointment, betrayal of the most intimate form, and every kind of pain? Had I not drawn my own hand to bring my end; starved, maimed, and destroyed-all without trepidation? Had I not lived in blackness for so long- tasted bitter dregs, walked without hope, seen without light? What of this outer darkness could fill me with such a profoundly innate terror?
Yet I dreaded inside the unshakable feeling that the worse was far yet to come; that what had once seemed to be so great a darkness, had indeed been the Lesser Darkness all along- of which I had been so foolishly desperate to flee for relief to what had now descended into an unspeakably irretrievable agony.
When- or how was I going to get out of here? What was the point of this? I sure wasn’t learning anything. What if I couldn’t leave?
The terror that had been gnawing at the base of my skull, demanding my continual attention- finally overtook me of that which I had never known I could be caused to bear.
I tried to seek refuge in dwelling upon any old memory that my unfailing mind could always summon.
But there were none.