The Limbic's Game

Chapter 10

Dylan Crammer

For the first time since I fell into inner silence, there was also silence on the external surface of reality. I don’t know whether this is a good thing or not, but it gives me time to… well… sleep I suppose.

I never would have thought that I would want this but the pain is just too much now. I don’t think that I can take the agony of inly partial realisation or recognition; I know that the memories are mine, there is some familiarity but then I swivel into the full-awareness of the glorious third perspective.

I’m witnessing myself while simultaneously looking through the eyes of what might as well be an empty. I can’t do anything to stop me. I can’t do anything to change and make more use of my time: why can’t I find this girl?

And more to the point, why can’t I seem to gather enough clues together in one memory to piece the delicate mystery of who I am as a person. In my restricted time slot, I was finding it increasingly difficult to wade through the bullshit of my image and get through to the real me. My logic was that if I got through, deep into myself in a past event, then maybe it would pull me out of this; or at least trigger something that I had overlooked.

But to no result was my repeated destination. I failed in getting to myself in both scenarios: either the memory was too short, meaning I couldn’t get there in time; or I delved deep enough, but the security was far too dense to penetrate.

Once again I was back to square one: the mind that I now fully inhabited was trying to protect me from the things that it thought that I didn’t need to know.

Just think: two exact same copies of the same human beings, assuming in their own minds that they are think about the same thing as one another.

Until BANG.

They realise that they have totally different priorities and want to go about things in a different way to eachother.

Well, that seems more than plausible to me.

But then again; in my scenario it is completely different: both of these people are living in the same mind, fighting for control and influence over all of the cranium mass instead of just the measly half that they already have.

They never come into contact with eachother.

However, when their glances meet from their respected paddocks of power, the sparks fly. This results in jerky memories that often cause me whiplash as the sheer velocity of the experience is enough to make you want to surrender.

I know this because I am both of those people, subconsciously fighting a war that is only destroying myself in the process.

Oh, and I almost forgot: there is a third side in this fight, and that is the impartial one that sits in the fence in-between the two loyal armies that protected their leaders.

 If only they knew that they were the same person.

Maybe it is a self-defence mechanism of some kind. I understand that as soon as I acquire the answers to the thousands of questions that are circulating around my head, I know that I will think that I never wanted to ask them.

But if this is the only way of finding out what happened to me, then so be it.

My constant pulse of blood that I had become reliant suddenly slowed and quietened to a murmur. Although the fact scared me, I was now able to hear all of the quiet things that I knew I couldn’t have heard before.

I could hear the slow hiss of the respirator that corresponded to the detached motion of the rise and fall of my chest.

I thought that the doctors may have been lying about the severity of my condition: over-playing it, just to make sure that I would pull through. But the stark reality now was that I was aware of the edge. It was the edge and boundary of the life of the death; and the life of the living. I was teetering on the edge, my toes curling down towards the ground.

This cliff that I was standing on had an unknown depth. The only way to discover how far down it went was to go through the hazy mist of decisions and the light fluff of the innocent clouds to reveal the dark, harsh floor that would bring my death to me.

Sleep was what I needed. I was to let my mind to go blank. I know that it seems like the wrong thing to do when you’re like this; but the bliss of silence is my last resort.

I’ve changed my mind. The memories don’t matter to me anymore. I just want to be at peace with myself, the people around me and the rest of the world.

I don’t know what this girl means to me after all these weeks of reliving events as the previous version of myself. But I think I do have the idea that she did mean a lot to me, does this mean that I need to know anymore. What if the things that I found out about her portrayed a new girl that I didn’t love?

I was seeing through his eyes; thinking his thoughts

The one thing that I knew

I’m not sure that I want to stick around and find out. I don’t think that I want to hang around to find out…

I let my breathing slow; I hear the hissing of the mechanic nest, the intensity of sound dripping away. That’s it. I’m all by myself, both inside the body and out.

This is the best opportunity to leave this world and go onto the next. The pinprick of light hovered in the ceiling of my skull.

I fell once more, seeing myself through a blanket of darkness that clung tightly.

The light source hung in the air in the form of a spherical orb. It casually floated around overhead, and I saw my blue eyes up close for the first time in my life; I could see that the orb was beckoning me closer. The only thing that was different this time was the fact I didn’t resist the temptation.

The splashes of colour in my irises shifted as I let the light come closer.

Now was the time to decide. I could feel the warmth radiating from the source as it lingered on a psychological boundary; it seemed unsure if what was safe, dipping its toes into the calm lake before diving into the rough and unknown ocean.

I can only describe it as almost confused.

I empathised with the feeling of confusion. This who thing has been one whole unknowing mess. I had never let the light get this close before, I was trying to ignore it, push and repel against the uncertainty of what lay beyond.

But now was the time.

Still viewing through the reflection of my eyes, I widened my pupils as the light reluctantly floated down further towards me; further to my imminent reality.

My irises were now bathed in harsh, yet soft light of the orb of what looked like life.

I knew that it’s game was to trick me into death, but it made no difference to me now.

The Limbic had got it’s last dance as I tentatively touched the orb with my fingertips. The warmth that the light gave off now turned to an ice cold sensation.

So it was the Limbic that made me wake and feel that burning in my palms all those thoughts ago. That made me think: were any of these memories real in the first place, or was it all part of an elaborate plan?

So the girl wasn’t real?

My perspective flipped. I quickly gathered that was now looking through that of the orb. The Limbic had disguised itself well; I wasn’t suspecting for one second.

The boy who was me now seemed small and vulnerable, unsure of anything that he knew anymore. But he had a brave heart; he was ready for whatever was thrown at him. He had made his decision.

The iciness spread from my fingers and up my arms, into the shoulder sockets and beyond. I saw that I closed my eyes and then took a deep breath. I felt tears roll down my cheeks, but did not see them weigh down on my skin. This puzzled me for a moment, before I deciphered the code; understanding that the tears must be coming from eyes elsewhere: the boy from the hospital bed that was clinging onto life.

The bleeping from the monitors ambushed my doings as I tried to let my life drain away. The noise seemed to go on forever until I blocked it out. It was some time before the cold consumed me completely.

I took my final breath and let my eyelids clench together in anticipation.