The atmosphere inside the log cabin deepened. A wall of tension seemed to encircle us. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck raise, I could feel the goose bumps run down my arms, and I could almost feel the beat of Lucas’ heart. He seemed distant and lost in thought, even though he looked me straight in the eye, and began his story.

“I pulled the Mercedes over to the side of the road, behind a blue Volvo that had it’s emergency flashers on. You know how helpful I always try to be Sam, and this was no different. I stepped out of the Mercedes, and I could almost feel a change in the air. The presence seemed to hover around me, I can’t really explain it, almost an ominous cloud of sorts. I walked up to the passenger side door, and took a look inside. There was a man in the driver’s seat, just sitting there. He saw me through the window and began to get out of the car. He greeted me nonchalantly, and nodded his head at me. I asked him if he needed any help. He said he did, and made his way around the car to my side, where he put his hand out for me to shake. That’s when it happened, the world tilted, I felt like everything was spinning, and then blackness.

When I came to, I was in a white room, nothing but a metal chair in the middle of the room. The walls were seamless, nothing but darkness above me, it’s like there wasn’t a ceiling. I woke up on the padded floor. My head felt like it had a ton of bricks in it. My tongue felt like sandpaper, and my throat felt like desert sand. I lay there for a minute, and then realized that I wasn’t in my clothes, that I was in a pair of white cotton pants, kinds like sweats. Sam, you have to believe me in this, I know you think I am off my rocker and lying to you, but I am not. Please just hang in there.” Lucas looked at me with pleading eyes. I had apparently started looking at him like he was wearing bright pink feathered pajamas and had four heads. I tucked my doubting side away, and tried to put on my ‘i believe you’ face, so that he could continue. Then, I thought about his description of the room he was in. I shot up off the couch, and brought my hand up to my forehead and ran it through my hair. It was Lucas’ turn to look at me strange.

My dream from last night. The clear room, with the endless ceiling and the chair. This couldn’t be just a coincidence. I looked at Lucas again, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. Only syllables coming out, not able to form words.

(to be continued)