When people disappear


I look around the room, confused and shocked because of all the vibrant colours.  I’d just been kidnapped, and I was in a room of bright colours.  Kidnappers were usually bad, weren’t they?  So then why was I lying in a friendly looking area?  There’s no door.  Was I even kidnapped?  I don’t remember.  I look at my watch, but it didn’t help much.  My watch had stopped working the moment I was dumped here.  In fact, none of the electronics I had on me would work.  Something was happening.  Something serious.  No one came in.  Nothing happened.  It was almost as if I was stuck in a time pocket, and the rest of the world had gone on and forgotten about me.  Maybe it had.  I tried to escape that daunting thought, but it kept haunting my otherwise empty mind.  What if no one ever comes?  What if I never existed in the first place?  Do I even exist now?  What if –no.  I have to stop thinking like that.  No more self pity.  All it does is cause more pain.  More confusion.  More despair.  No, I’ll just lie here and hope that something will happen.  I can’t do much else.  Actually, I don’t think I can move anymore.  I try to lift my head, my arm, a finger.  I can’t.  Despair and realisation dawns on me.  I accept that I must be dying.  I don’t know anymore.  My memories are disappearing.  I’m disappearing.  Memories are all we are made of, aren’t they?  My memories are disappearing at a rapid rate.  If they keep disappearing this quickly, then in minutes I’ll be but an empty shell.  Or maybe, it just feels like minutes.  Maybe, this is happening over centuries, millennia even.  It was a terrifying thought.  It was true.

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