I won't forget you... (Sequel to "Blame it on me")

Ch. 22 (I am back.)

Tom snapped his eyes open. There was nothing but a midst of darkness; an empty void hollowed from reality. There were no beings around him; no traces of life, and nothing but the consuming overwhelming darkness. His knees felt weaker. His hands were shaking. He felt like something was pressing down against his chest and making it harder for him to breathe. The feeling of being completely and utterly alone started to tear away at his mind. He stuck his arm out, trying to feel anything in front of him. There was nothing; nothing but the empty darkness surrounding him.

He couldn't feel himself; he couldn't feel anything. It was excruciatingly hot inside of the room, making it feel even harder to breathe. Tom staggered back and took a breath of air, almost falling over in the process. He wouldn't see in the first place but it felt like his vision clouded up. Tom couldn't think straight as it felt like he was being smothered by a blanket.

"Hello?!" He finally yelled out. There was no echo to the room. He could barely hear himself. "If anyone there?!" He called out again. His own voice seemed to be fading, as he continued to descend further into the darkness of what once felt like his natural, normal world. It felt too hazy; almost like a dream. He patted himself down and felt his grip on reality loosen once more. The silence was stopped by an immediate high pitched noise echoing through the entire dark space. It was like ringing in his ear, but amplified beyond the limit of what a human could bear.

Tom tried smothering his ears, but the ringing only got louder. It was like the sound was coming from inside of his own head; as if he was descending into an inescapable route of pain and misery.

"Edd?"

No response. The ringing only got louder.

"Matt?!"

The ringing is beginning to make his ears bleed. He clutched his head in pain and writhed around on the floor, attempting to cancel out the noise. It was deafening; almost sounding like human shrieks and cries of pain. Tom constantly tried clawing at his ears, begging for the noise to stop. But it didn't. It got louder. It made his world feel like he was spinning; making him lose all his grip on reality and dreams. He couldn't tell if this was a dream or not. He wanted to go home.

"TORD!" He screamed.

The ringing got softer, making it more bearable to hear. The deafening screeching only became mild cries, as Tom sat down in relief. His head felt like it wasn't spinning anymore as he laid down from the overbearing stress all from that one moment. The noise slowly calmed down before coming to a complete stop. He didn't understand his world anymore. Was this a dream? Where was he even? It was impossible to tell. Could he have went blind? He doubted it but it was a definite possibility.

"Where's Tord?" He mumbled to himself, almost expecting the darkness to answer. He sat himself up and looked around, not seeing anything anyways. It was an abyss; an abandoned area that didn't even seem to exist. It could have been real, but he couldn't tell. It was still hard to breathe, and he started to feel slightly nauseous. The disgusting chalky taste in his mouth came back, as he felt the urge to spit and throw up what he had last eaten.

What had he last eaten, anyways?

Tom got himself to stand up again before walking forward in any direction he could find. He didn't think he'd find much and his expectations were low, but they could always go lower as he wandered throughout the empty abyss of absolute darkness. He couldn't see anything at all. Not even a sign that he existed and was apart of this fabricated reality. It felt impossible to walk in a straight line since he couldn't even see, but he mustered what little courage he had left to move towards anywhere he could go.

He didn't know if bumping into anything would be a good thing or a bad thing. There was always a chance it was someone he'd know, or a chance it was a monster. Everything he'd known about this world was easily all proven wrong in only a couple of weeks. But of course, his father a pineapple and his mother was a bowling ball, so not everything could be perfect.