The Awakening

The Awakening

I remember nothing prior to the time of my awakening; during my first conscious moments my mind attempted to search for answers. I was not afraid but lost in blankness; there were no images to retrieve, no clue to my predicament. Limited to a space no larger than a casket, movement was minimal; I used my hands to search for a button or a lever that would allow escape from my captivity. While blindly searching the walls, a light above my head began to flash and change in color from red, to yellow, to green. The hatch released allowing external air to rush in; the sudden change in air pressure caused my lungs to take a series of unexpected deep breaths. The inhalation of fresh air was invigorating. I reached out and pushed the hatch aside. My first images of freedom were a metal grey ceiling lined with pipes and recessed lighting. Curious about my surroundings and my eagerness to flee my confinement I sat up. To my surprise, I was not alone.

A room of strangers, both male and female from various places of origin, we looked at each other uncertain what to say. When words were finally spoken the language unfamiliar but recognizable to all. My first attempts to speak in retrospect were comical. I started and stopped sentences several times in an attempt to fix the malfunction in my communication process. The words in my head English but what springs forth from my mouth is not.

Ninety nine percent of who I am is a mystery. Labeled across the left breast of my jumpsuit is the name “Ghent”. This name is not familiar but I must assume it is my own. Jamison, who I am certain, has a medical background seems to thinks our amnesia is temporary; a side effect from our undetermined time spent in the sleep pods. I hope he is right; not knowing for certain who I am or where I came from is disturbing.

Nothing is familiar. A placard on the wall suggests we are in a place called Dannick. None of us remember entering the pods; our minds blank in regards to past events. Attempts to brain storm for answers are ineffective; our imaginations run wild with possibilities. We can only speculate as to how, when or why our destinies collided in this place.

We have yet to determine if we are captives or willing participants; our matching jumpsuits suggest we are members of a group; possibly inmates or an elite band of warriors. I prefer to think we are the later or something comparable in respectability. I do not wish to be a criminal or an escaped test subject of a mad scientist.

Collectively we decided to explore our surroundings. There are no windows to give clue to our location. My best guess is that we are on a military vessel or in the deep dark depths of a research facility or possibly a fallout shelter; although a logical reason for being in either of those places is not readily apparent. There is a slight hum in the corridor and the occasional mechanical noise but no other discernible sounds from the outside.

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