Behind Lifeless Eyes: Issue One: New Life

A New Life

Geoffrey opened his eyes and was immediately stunned by his now perfect senses. Everything felt too clear, too real, and it was overwhelming him. Even in his most delirious memories during his last few years, he never realised how old and worn his body had become. Speaking of which...

Geoffrey swung himself off his death bed and looked at his former shell. Before him lay the body of an emaciated old man with white, withered hair clinging to his head. He was wrapped up in a thick, white duvet and even though it was a simple single person bed, it made him look tiny. The look on his face gave the impression that he had died quietly in his sleep. He didn't, as Geoffrey very well knew, but no one else needed to know that.

Looking at his hands, Geoffrey guessed he was currently aged somewhere between his late twenties and his early thirties. It came to a great surprise when he looked further down and discovered that he was dressed in blue jeans and a crimson t-shirt, especially since all he was wearing a few minutes ago was a pair of underpants. 

Absent-mindlessly, Geoffrey reached down and took the glasses off the old man's face, folded them and left them on the small wooden table beside the bed. Realising what he had just done, Geoffrey tried to pick up the half-drunk glass of cider that was also on the table. 

When Geoffrey touched the glass he couldn't feel it. He could sense its weight and the vague texture of the glass, but the hand just felt numb. Squeezing gently, Geoffrey lifted the glass slowly, ever so slowly, off the table. After he had lifted it about a foot off the table, he carefully put the glass back down again on the table before raising it again. Once he thought he had the hang of it, he took a sip from the glass.

He could taste the cider as it entered his mouth and he felt it go down his throat, but it didn't feel like it actually went anywhere. Apart from the slight after-taste, it was no different from a deep breath.

His entire body had this strange feeling of numbness. He knew he was in a warm room and he could sense that it was warm, but he couldn't feel that warmth. The carpet he was standing on was a thick, maroon shag pile carpet and he could sense it was thick and slightly sticky from all the spilled cider, but he couldn't feel that either. 

Geoffrey then took a good look around the room he had been living in for the last few weeks with fresh, well maybe not fresh, eyes. To the right of his bed there was a large cylindrical window that made it look like the room was being cut in half by a wall of sunlight. Behind the wall of light was the door that led down into the main area of the mansion. 

Apart from that window, his bed and the small table that was next to it, there was nothing else in the room except for an old-fashioned radiator that stretched along the entire left-hand wall.

"Well that makes sense, it's not like I ne-"

Geoffrey stopped dead, not only because he was thinking out loud again, but because he was speaking without moving his mouth. 

Pausing to make sure no one accidently heard this highly unexpected outburst; Geoffrey started to make quiet grunting noises and murmurs. It seemed to depend on his will to speak out loud that decided whether or not someone else would be able to hear him. He would have to be careful about that.

Wandering over to the window with cider in hand, Geoffrey gazed at the scene before him. The weak, winter sun lit up the evening sky in hues of purples, violets and reds that made it look like the sky was ablaze. Thin, wispy clouds gently sailed across the sky as a large flock of Starlings danced in the dying light. 

Below the dazzling sky, a dark fir forest overshadowed a large, sluggish river at the end of a well-trimmed and maintained lawn. The lawn was as large as two football fields with the tall, elegant sculptures cutting long shadows across the worn gravel path that divided the lawn in two.