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Chapter One: The shadow in your peripheral

Nurse Annie removed the electrodes off my scalp. She was a nice woman, around forty, but I found her constant jabbering a bit exhausting. Carefully rising from the bed, I took slow steps into the bathroom, refusing her help. I removed the hospital garments and slipped into my usual denims and plain tee shirt.

I walked up to the counter, and the receptionist handed me pain medication to help minimize my migraines. The bottle contained four white tablets, a hassle to swallow. I took the bottle with a grimace and gave the receptionist a twenty.

"See you next week, Mr. Knight," she said. I nodded, turning around and walking into the elevator.

When I stepped outside, rain poured down on me. I raised my head, feeling the drops fall on my face and I frowned. The cab arrived twenty minutes later. I recognized the driver, a fat Arab who spoke with a thick accent. I sat in the back seat and rested my head against the window. The ride home felt longer than usual as I began to feel the effects of the tablet I had just swallowed.

In a zombiefied state, I walked up the stairs, gripping the railing for support. I stared at the large number twenty five on my apartment door, dreading the vast loneliness behind it. Sighing, I pushed the door open, my eyes scanned the room. I painted the walls white over the tree moss green Michael chose. The color reminded me of vomit, but for him, I had tolerated it, amongst many other things. Most of the good furniture left with him. His taste was far superior to mine. I liked simple things and he was the extravagant type. Not to say I was surprised when I caught him in our bed with two other men.

I heated up my frozen dinner, my face reflecting on the microwave door. The taste of cardboard dulled my tasted buds, my thoughts lost in the memory of his betrayal. Some would say a year was sufficient time to move on but I don't forget easily.

I walked several steps into the living room area. A Scientific Findings magazine was neatly placed over the coffee table. My eyes fell upon it with an enthusiasm only the thirst for knowledge produced in me. I was sitting on the futon reading an article on quantum physics when I had my first vision. That's what I choose to call them. The explanation behind them eludes me till this day. I saw what appeared to be a family sitting around a table. The images lingered around the far peripheral of my vision, disappearing when I turned my head. In place of them, stood an empty wall. I stood up in alarm, running out of my apartment and across the hallway.

Roger Steinberg opened the door. He was an older bachelor, wearing a stained tank top and boxers.

"What?" He said, cautiously surveying me.

"I wanted to ask you if you got a package under my name."

The inside of Steinberg's apartment was filthy. I looked towards his kitchen and saw a foldable table with Chinese takeout on it. By the smell of it, the food was days old.

Steinberg's bushy eye brows met. "No, why would I do that?" He took a step forward blocking my view of his apartment, but I had already seen what I was looking for so I stepped back.

I smiled pleasantly. "Ah, I see." Before he could say anything else, I turned around and walked back into my apartment.

Blaming my imagination for what I had seen, I resumed my reading. I must have lost time for I recall seeing the next vision only minutes later but judging by the position of the sun outside of my window it must have been hours later. A woman, wearing a sun dress and apron, walked across the room making me jump around only to see the same barren wall. I decided to call the lab. The receptionist answered.

"May I speak to Dr.Westford; I think I'm experiencing a rare side effect."

"Dr. Westford left for upstate new York a few hours ago. He'll be at a convention all weekend. You can leave him a message, if you like."

"No, never mind."

"Okay. Are you sure?"

"Well...actually, I think I'm having hallucinations. Is that common after therapy?"

"Oh, I'm not sure, but if you wish to speak to a nurse-"

"No, no that's fine. Thank you for your help. You've been lovely."

I laid down on the futon and closed my eyes. Maybe I was just tired. I woke up hours later after tossing and turning and never really finding a comfortable position to sleep in. My head was pounding with an intense migraine. I reached across the table and grabbed the bottle of pills.

Across the room, I saw a man sitting on a recliner and reading a book. He didn't notice me as I rose from the couch.

"Who are you?" My voice was shaking. The man turned the page and crossed his leg. A jolt of pain struck the left side of my head and I fell back onto the futon. I closed my eyes and the pain began to diminish. When I reopened them, the man and the recliner were no longer there.