Chapter 45

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Curiosity killed the cat, but discovery brought it back.

That's the saying. So if I'm supposed to believe that, why am I still drifting?

It's a peculiar feeling. I don't know how to describe it. Serenity? Tranquility? Something along those lines.

My mind is detached from my body; my senses are not registering anything except this beautiful warm bliss spreading from my heart, through my veins and to the tips of my fingers and toes.

I've lost all sense of reality. I'm just floating on the expanse of my subconscious.

Am I dead?

------

"Damon?"

I look up.

"Kadiya?"

I can't make out the face; everything is too bright to see. Rays of light catch strands of red hair and surround a figure in front of me, illuminating her like a halo.

I blink until my eyes adjust to the new surroundings. It's not Kadiya.

"M-mom?"

She smiles. It's the kind that every single aspect of her face goes into making: the eyes, lips, cheeks, forehead, chin and even ears.

"Oh, good. You recognize me," she laughs and instantly brings her hand to her eyes which are starting to shine and turn misty.

"Of course I -- what's happening? Am I dead?"

"I certainly hope not!"

"Oh. Then what? Is this all going on in my head? Is it real?"

Another laugh and she lies down beside me. "You've seen the Matrix, right?"

"Um, yes."

"Oh, good. James raised you right then," she giggles and looks up at me before placing her hand on my arm and pulls me down beside her. "What is real, Damon? How do you define 'real'? If you're talking about what you can feel, what you can taste and see, then 'real' is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain."

I stare at her in awe. "You've memorized the Matrix?" I ask.

"Parts of it," she admits. "But that's beside the point."

"Oh. So am I alive?"

"I hope so. Damon," She turns to me, her expression now serious. "The joy I'm feeling right now from seeing you is indescribable. But I have to ask. The only reason I see you is because you are walking the fine line between life and death. What happened that I should see you?"

That is an excellent question. "Curiosity killed the cat," I just answer.

"Oh, Damon don't say that," she whispers, and she takes my hand in hers.

The first thing that registers is that I can feel her hand on mine. The second thing that registers is that I have an arm made out of flesh and blood and bone, and that can feel hers.

"Damon?" she asks.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Just had a mild dissociation?"

"Huh?"

She grins and sits up to look at me in the eye.

"God, you look so much like your dad."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she reaches up and brushes away hair from my face. "You got my eyes, though. And hair. Your height, though, that's from him. He was always a bit of a homunculus."

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