I Am Still Conscious

I Am Still Conscious

Another restless night tangled up in blue sheets and misshapened pillows. As consciousness slowly comes into focus, and an elegant stretch...funny, but no popping joints like there usually are. As a matter of fact, my body feels very ache and pain free for a change. Maybe the Tylenols weaved their magic after all last night. Come to think of it, I slept quite deeply the last half of the early morning.

Mother in her usual chair. "Good morning," I mutter as I walk past to the kitchen for my breakfast. Leaning on the counter and looking at the birds on the feeders outside, something just beyond my grasp of coherency pokes its head out at me, but dissolves just as quick. Why didn't I take a piss as I always did upon awakening. My bladder was not registering any discomfort whatsoever.

I must be losing my mind. I don't remember getting dressed or opening the door on the way into the livingroom. I picked up my bowl of cereal and took the recliner not presently occupied by my mother, and started crunching away. My mother was unusually quiet for my daily entrance. Every day, with several hours to think of things that I would need to do before I woke up, I am typically assaulted with a laundry list of chores. I looked over, and she was busy with her crossword puzzle book.

I was trying to think if I might have pissed her off yesterday, but nothing came to mind. Oh well, I have no right to complain for winning the peace lottery. I dug my spoon in for another pile of cereal...where did the cereal go? I know I had gotten cereal. I looked on the table next to me, but there was no bowl half eaten anywhere around me. Did I even get a bowl of cereal? I don't remember pouring the cereal or milk. Maybe I need to go back to bed and try starting over again.

My mother in my moment of perplexion got up and walked into the back rooms and knocked on a door. "David, did you forget that we are supposed to go shopping today," she asked loudly. "Mom, what are knocking on my door for, didn't you see me get breakfast," I responded over my shoulder, then had to laugh because I couldn't remember getting the bowl of cereal I was eating, that no longer existed.

"David," she loudly called again. My God, is she deaf this morning. "Mom," I said, but she opened my bedroom door and began talking to the empty room. My cat ran into the livingroom, and I bent over to pet him, but he sprinted into the kitchen. I got up to follow him in case he wanted to go outside, but he sprinted under the table. "I'm not going to play catch the spider monkey this morning you wildcat," I said to him.

I walked into the livingroom just as my mom sat back down in her recliner, white as a ghost. With shaking hands she picked up the phone and dialed. "What's wrong, ma." I asked, more than a little concerned at her appearance. She ignored my question and spoke into the receiver, "Diane, I need your help," and began crying. I took a few steps towards her to let her know I was there to help out with whatever was the matter, when she spoke into the phone, "It's David...I think he is dead. I called to him, and when he didn't answer I went in. I asked him if he was sick and when he didn't answer, I shook his arm. It was cold. I turned him onto his back and he was kind of stiff and blue, and his skin was cold to the touch."

That is all I heard of her conversation with my sister. I walked dazedly into the back rooms, and looked into my bedroom, where my body was lying on its back on the futon I had as a bed. Bubba, my orange tiger cat ran in under my legs into the room and watched me from under my desk. I took a few tentative steps into the room and turned to look into the wall mirror by the doorway. There was no reflection. There should have been a million thoughts racing through my mind, but really, there was only one: "I am still conscious...my body is dead, but I am still conscious...I am still conscious!"

©2004 DC Vision

 

Good, good! I like it. Your style is interesting... can't put my finger on it, but let's just say that it kept me interested (which can be hard to do ). Man, when he walks into the room with his cereal and wonders if he pissed off his mother yesterday... that's totally me!