Palm trees in the light. That’s all that was visible to me. The light was ghastly and divine, nefarious and exotic, inspiring and terrorizing. My ears heard only the stupendous song of nothing; I couldn’t even hear myself breathing. I wasn’t sure I was. My eyes flickered on and off under the strenuous pulse of this light. The long and healthy palm tree leaves were slightly swaying by a wind I could not feel on my skin.

The sea was so grey. Or was it the ocean? I didn’t know, though I didn’t much care-nothing, nothing could affect its beauty. Usually, people believed that for something to be pure, it must vibrate in colour, but how this sea curled its waves, and calmly poured them onto the light shore line, was the visual definition of purity. And with the white light spraying as far as the misty horizon, my fragile wrists curled, my eyes lifted, and the soothing drone of the breezy coast was swallowed.

The gleam was blinding. I’d have shielded my eyes with my palms if I had been able to feel them. Shutting my eyes was useless, the light pierced through easily. Through squinted eyelids, I observed. The snow was untouched, flat like a hardback book, and it was everywhere- It engulfed the brown of the trees, the green of grass, even the blue of sky had been banished and now reflected the marble floor. Was it cold? I couldn’t feel any cold, or warmth, or anything. I could feel the lights ominous presence, as though a single eye had been stretched across the surface of the sky, with one purpose only- to watch me silently, and transport me wherever it wanted. I was helpless, hopeless, but unsure, as to if I was victim or a champion.

These corridors are too hollow. Where are the windows? How was the light in here too, ricocheting off the immaculate walls? This is a hospital, I know, but it must have been a hospital built on a star. The lux was too heavy; I could not bear it any longer.  I tried to scream, but my lips were stitched shut. Still my legs walked, soundlessly through the shimmering endless corridor. No end, no beginning. My eyes and mind were the only parts of myself I owned. The rest of me had been stolen.

Here, in these four places, I spent my eternity.  Alone, silenced, banished, I unwillingly wandered. Before the palm trees, where I once lay on an open road, calling for death. Before an exact recreation of the very same melodic water I had once thrown my lifeless vessel into, and drowned the breathing dead. The snowy forest, in which I’d ripped my veins, letting the blood flow like a raging river from my deceased beating heart, and dyed the snow  the inside of my dead body, and lastly the hospital where I was born. And when I was born, my soul dragged itself along the endless corridor, seeking salvation.