CHAPTER 1

(Heavy breathing)

I don't remember how I got there. The memory is a little hazy. When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the white marble floor. The place smelled as if cleaned recently with those lemon flavour liquids. I remembered the market from where I used to buy things.

I lost the present for a moment when I was transported to my market place. The lady in the bookstore was very charming. Her smile was similar to that of an actress. I liked her smile a lot. I had bought books I had never felt the need to from that store just because I wanted to see her smile at me. The smile that she used to give me when I was done paying. The rest of the time it was not that much a smile rather a casual face. I felt sometimes that the bookstore was charging extra for her smile only. Also, it was the only reasonable explanation for their overpriced books.

I came back when I noticed something.

Nothing.

Literally nothing.

The place was closed within four white walls, a white ceiling, and marble floors. Nothing else. And me of course.

There was a white window like thing in the ceiling from which a white light was illuminating the place. I could have tried to reach it if it weren't 8 feet above the ground. It was all there was. A room, a window, and me. That's it.

I told myself it was a weird dream or something. I waited for it to be over. I counted the seconds on my watch until they were minutes, and the minutes until they were hours. After an hour I was worried that I may have overslept. I had something in the morning.

I had something.

What did I have?...I had something with my?

Wait a second.

What did I have to do tomorrow?

I was…I was…who was I?

What?

Who am I?

(Breathing getting sharper)

I remembered the market but, why I was there, and where was I going. All these questions were without answers to me. I had no idea who I was, where I was, and exactly why I was in this situation.

I freaked out. My reaction began by screaming the word 'HELP'. I screamed until I felt my voice breaking. I was sweating, coughing, panting, and moving right and left a thousand times. I was thinking that maybe there was a door and I just didn't notice it in panic. Two hours had passed. When I first checked my watch it was 5:30, pm or am I don't know.

Then I sat down, I tried to calm myself and concentrate on my memory.

Okay…okay..calm down..calm …think..use that box...

All right I am calm,

Any moment now…

I was waiting that I would remember something, a glimpse perhaps. But I had nothing. Not even my name. The charming face of the lady in the bookstore had faded away too. Now, I had nothing.

I sat there sobbing. My tear tank was empty. No more water or salt to show sadness.

I looked at the room very carefully. I was searching for something. Anything. I was hoping to see something odd. In the walls? The window in the ceiling?

Everything….

Everything here is normal..

Normal …it is an actual room and that window IS REAL.

I sat there with my head buried in my folded arms and squeezed legs. I was scared.

Fucking scared.

Noise is irritating. The noise that people make when they talk or laugh, the noise that vehicles make when they penetrate the busy roads. The noise of all those things make us sick sometimes. We feel like having everything halt for a second. Just for once. We know it is not possible but we want it all the same. Yet the noise sustains forever, digging through time. Outliving the very people, who wished its death.

But there is one thing even more deadly than noise, silence. Absolute and infinite.

Noise may be irritating but it's never the same. Sometimes it's your car, sometimes it's your neighbor, sometimes it's your neighbor's dog, and sometimes it's your dog. Although, in the long run, it hardly matters that how much variation there was in the reason behind your insanity.

Still, noise does go quiet sometimes. When you are so habituated to it that it becomes a characteristic of the normal, rather than a symptom of the abnormal. Have you ever felt like something changed or stopped? When in fact a noise had become quiet after being there for a long time.

Noise is like an infant who wants to play with you. As long as you let it bother you, it will play. And when you get habituated to it, the infant goes to sleep.

The noise becomes one with silence.

Silence, however, is not like noise. It never becomes a habit, and one can never get habituated to it. It lasts longer than noise and we never accept it. We always fight it. Silence is dangerous because it doesn't fight back. It's like the white background of an empty canvas. No matter what you think, an empty canvas will always be an empty canvas. Although, with time an ugly painting may become meaningful. The white and empty canvas will remain the same forever.

The room with white walls was like an empty canvas. It was silent. The silence was so horrifying that I started singing after some time. Every time I stopped, it was like being slashed. My mind was being torn apart very swiftly. There were moments when I wished for someone to come by and say something. I prayed that this was a kidnapping of some sort.

However, I was disappointed all the time.

What comes after a long time of subjugation is a revolution. Rebellion.

I rebelled. I got up and walked right under the window thing and made up my mind that beyond that window was my freedom. And then.

I jumped. I pulled all the weight I could and forced my body in the vertical direction. I think that the maximum I reached after jumping for two hours was two feet. After that, my legs gave out. I couldn't even get up. I just collapsed on the floor when I landed after that last jump. I felt so tired that I decided to sleep. I knew that I had to get out of that place but I was feeling much better in my sleep. It could see things and imagine noises and sounds of all sorts. I liked that.