Reality | Teen Ink

Reality

May 16, 2014
By Akash Kurupassery BRONZE, Franklin, Tennessee
Akash Kurupassery BRONZE, Franklin, Tennessee
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The first thing I remember is waking up in a completely white room. I remember a lack of knowledge. Even the basics of language were somewhat out of my reach. As I gained more and more awareness, I began to explore the room. The walls of the room were made up of a hard, cold material. I had a sense of eyes watching me. As I turned around I saw a man in a white coat staring at me. His cold black eyes following my every move. I remember walking up to him and examining him. If I stared at him long enough I could almost grasp a memory I had. I punched the wall in frustration. The wall seemed to reverberate as I felt my hand blazing. I saw the doctor seeming to tap on a panel then disappear. I saw vents seeming to open and gas filling the room. I felt more and more tired until I finally collapsed on the ground.
The next thing I remember is waking up in a house overlooking a meadow. I remember feeling a sense of relief as I seemed to realize that it was just a dream. I walked up outside of the house looking out at the meadow. Memory seemed to elude me, but at the time I thought it was just because I woke up. I remember walking around the room. It was a small room with a window on it. I looked out of the window and saw the children playing blissfully outside. I walked to the door and tried to open it. The door was jammed and didn’t open. I sighed and walked back to my bed. I remember slowly falling back to sleep again.

I was back in the white room again. At the time I realized that I was in some sort of experiment, but I didn’t realize what it was about or why it was happening. I saw the panel on the edge of the wall and lunged for it. An unknown force around it threw me back. I tried again to get at it, but this time I edged slowly toward it. I realized that when I hit a certain point something pushed back against me. I saw the vents open again at the top of the room. I started to try holding my breath. This didn’t work and eventually I collapsed again.

I was in a bed. Looking around I saw a bunch of doctors standing over me. I saw a lady in the background crying. I recognized her in some strange way. She came up to me and asked if I remembered her. I shook my head which gave way to more tears from her. The doctor who seemed to be in charge started to ask me questions. He asked me if I knew where I am or what is the last thing I remember. I told him I didn’t know where I was and that I remembered a white room with vents. He seemed a bit confused at the last part, but took notes and slowly shook his head. He told me that I am in the Chicago psychiatric institution, and he also asked me what I made of that. I told him that I didn’t believe him and I thought this was some kind of joke. After he told me that he was perfectly serious and that it wasn’t a joke, I remember losing my temper and yelling at him. The other doctors quickly took hold of me and restrained me while the lead doctor and the lady left the room. Confusion swept me as I started to ask questions to myself. Why am I here? What have I done? After a while I looked up and noticed that the other doctors had left the room, locking the doors behind them. As I was lying on the bed thoughts of the white room bombarded me. What if this all is just another “experiment”? I thought that whoever made this “experiment” was probably some sick guy. While sitting down though, memories seem to come to me. I remember living in a small apartment building as a child and going to a school though I couldn’t recall the name. I remembered having a job. I was an electrician. I remembered that the lady who walked in my room was my mother. I tried to remember more, but I couldn’t. The thought that this was all an experiment kept on bugging me, and the fact that the room was the same size as the room that I had possibly dreamt about didn’t comfort me at all. It seemed I was in a bit of a dilemma. I started to bang on the door screaming like a madman. I didn’t realize at the time that it made me look like very crazy. I didn’t like being held captive against my will and especially for reasons unknown to me. I turn around and saw the same cold black eyes staring at me while I was pacing the room. I remember the anger I felt when I lunged toward them. This action only helped me succeed in knocking down the bookshelf. The eyes were gone. I could’ve sworn I had seen him working right next to the shelf. I sat back down on my bed and slept.

I remember waking up the next morning in the same room. Exhausted, I remember seeing that someone had left food on the small table I had. I went towards the table and voraciously ate all the food on it. I don’t remember how I got there, but I was suddenly in some sort of group therapy session. Everyone in the session was staring at me. The instructor patiently asked me the same question that I think he had asked me before. What caused you to kill those people at the airport. I was stunned at the time. I remember saying something like I don’t know what you’re talking about. Then like a blur I was back in my room again. I thought maybe I was suffering from some kind of amnesia. That would explain why time was going by so quick without me noticing. Maybe I had killed people at an airport I couldn’t remember. Now when I think about it, I believed that I actually did it at the time even though the facts were right in front of me. I yelled for a doctor, a nurse, anybody. Nobody came. I realized that something had been bothering me ever since I was in the room. Everything started to make sense. I started yelling for the guy in the white coat. I remember screaming come back and I remember seeing the scientist walk through the door. I remember murdering him in cold-blood, and when I looked at him again I saw that it was the lead doctor. He wasn’t wearing a white coat, and he hadn’t done anything to wrong me. Hands shaking I quickly hid the body behind the bookshelf. I remember asking myself what have I done. At that time more than ever I thought I had killed all those people at the airport they were talking about. I closed my eyes and I woke up in a jail cell. I was left a pencil, paper, and a note. The note said that I had earned the death sentence and tomorrow I was going to be executed. I took up the pencil and started writing. I now realize that this was all an illusion. Something I was being tested on. Apparently I failed the test. Whether I am a murderer or a test subject, my life has come to an end. I hope that this paper, my legacy, finds anyone willing to read it. I hear footsteps down the hallway.



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