“ Wake up, wake up,” the voice sang,. “Wake up, wake up,” it goaded, echoing through the darkness. “Wake up, wake up,” the voice said again to me. I looked around myself but saw only darkness. I could only make out the faint lines that distinguished the clouds of darkness from each other.
“Wake up, wake up, Honoré.”
The clouds began to push against me.
“Wake up, wake up.”
I felt them lace through my fingers.
“Wake up, wake up,” the voice became higher. It seemed giddy with joy each time. It felt ecstasy from my pain.
It pushed farther onto me. The cool, soft clouds came over me. It felt like droplets of water gently rolling down my flesh.
“Wake up, dear Honoré! You don’t want to die, do you?”
With those words the darkness clamped itself upon me. The gentle droplets became like shards of ice. They brought me to numbness, and then to sharp pain. The darkness choked me. In my nostrils. In my mouth. I was choking me. It came down and pushed up against my throat. “Wake up!”
I don’t know what woke me up—the horrific dream, the beads of cold sweat on the head or the flash of lightning followed by deafening thunder. But what I knew was that I woke up with a jump. I wiped the perspiration from my forehead. It took a moment to realize how heavily I was breathing and I tried to control my self—slowing the pace of my heaves. I looked around me. It was a beautiful room. Save for the mauve shaded walls, everything looked so intricate. From the portraits that hung at my side to the small chair and desk next to me. Even the bed I was sleeping on, the sheets that I was in. It reminded me of Versailles, especially when I noticed the golden fleurs-de-lis on the glowing orange sheets.
I couldn’t just gaze at the room right now. Shuffling out of bed I could feel the cold breeze upon me. I walked over to the window, draped in the same glowing orange of the sheets. I pushed the one side of the draped to the side and got behind them. I raised panel of the window and pushed it down. After a loud clap of the window coming down shut, I felt the calm of the night. I looked out to the world outside. I saw the skyscrapers, so close to me, only a street across. I could see the rain beat down on the fragile looking glass giants. I followed the rain with my gaze downward and saw how high I really was. The cars bustled below me, little lights passing like salmon through a thin stream. I must be in a hotel to be this high up and still in such a residential room.
I walked back from the window and slapped the draping back into its place. I walked past my bed and into the bathroom. The faucet ran with warm water, and I savored that feeling of warmth and cleanliness. I grabbed the towel from next to the sink and rubbed it furiously over my face. For these few minutes I’ve been awake, I’ve realized that I had a strange feeling. I couldn’t exactly tell what it was.
As I took the towel away form my face, I looked at the person in the mirror. He had blue eyes, so bright and vibrant, I could see the distinctive shades of blue in his eyes. Reached for his hair, a platinum blonde. This person seems so foreign, and so strange. But wasn’t this me? Who was this? Who was I?