Adrian (The Write Awards 2013)

02: Not Necessarily

Dedicated to XCocoaCake because I love how we support each other's stories. This dedication is long over due. Please go check out her work! :D

***

My eyes flutter open. I don't know how long I was asleep, or if time even passes in The Nothingness (which is what I'm calling all of this whiteness), but I do know that waking up confirms that this nightmare is in fact reality. I have to blink numerous times to adjust my eyes to the bright white lighting and the overall idea of my situation.

I sit and stretch, my bones popping and my muscles relaxing. My feet dangle in the air, which is odd because I'm tall enough for them to reach the ground. I peer over the edge of the bench, but all I can see is white. I can't tell if it ever ends or if it goes on forever.

I'm wearing a long white dress that matches my surroundings, and my feet are bare. It's not my usual attire, and I don't know how I ended up wearing it.

I breathe in deeply. I can't tell if I'm even breathing air anymore, or even if breathing is necessary at all. It's all so peculiar.

I really don't know what to do. What would Adrian do? Inaction would not be his first instinct, that is for sure. Wait, what am I thinking? Adrian isn't real.

I can't truly believe that statement. Adrian isn't real. It sounds insane. He is only a figment of my imagination. That sounds even crazier. I try not to think about it on a personal level by removing myself from the thought, but it's proving to be harder than I expect. It seems to have cut itself deep into me, like it's a scar that isn't going to heal. Nevertheless, I have to keep thinking about what I'll do next.

So, now this becomes a question of what I would do. I'm not exactly sure. I don't think I want to leave my spot on the bench, but what's the point of staying? Can I sit here eternally and never die? It doesn't sound like something I want to do.

I look down again and squint. It's still nothing. Is the whiteness indefinite, or does it have a stopping point? I still can't tell, and it's really frustrating me.

I crane my neck even further. Not knowing what will happen, I reach my arm out. I feel nothing. I reach farther. Still nothing. I try to grab something, but my hands only feel empty space.

I kick the air in anger. How can I get out of here? I look down once more. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I bend over farther and farther. Too far. I've pushed the boundaries. And now I'm falling. I'm falling too fast.

It's as if I'm jumping off the stone wall again, air whooshes behind me and I can feel my hair fly around my head. The exhilaration is indescribable, but I can't help but feel scared. Unlike the time when I jumped in the park, I'm afraid I'm going to keep falling forever.

When I look up above me, the park bench is still floating on nothing. How is it not subject to gravity, while I am? This is too confusing.

Thoughts are reeling through my head faster than the speed of light. Panic seems to fly through me, but I know I need to remain calm if I ever want to stop falling. I count to three, breathing deeply between each number.

One.

Two.

Three.

Suddenly, I come to a halt. It's relieving, and I instantly feel better. It's still white all around me, but when I look below me, there are clouds. White clouds that are hardly visible but definitely there. They are soft and airy beneath my feet.

I wonder if there's anything below. My entire body shakes as I sit cautiously, hoping I won't fall through the clouds.

They continue to support me after I sit. Now that I can reach through them with my hands, they feel more like cotton candy. Sticky and thin. I weave my fingers easily through them.