I was opening my door, the cold air rushing outside.
I heard a door slam upstairs. I looked in that general direction and then began to walk outside.
I stopped at my mailbox.
I opened the metal door and took out the one letter inside.
I turned it over in my hands, reading who it could be addressed too.
In big black letters, my name was scribbled. I was curious.
Who would be sending me a letter?
I walk back into the house, tearing the end of the letter. I empty the crumpled paper on to the table and sit down in the wooden chair, it cracks then settles. I open it, it's folded in three ways. There is nothing on the letter. There are no words, no marks, no idle doodles. Just a blank letter. I am confused, who would send this to me?
I drop the paper and look at the envelope. I did not recognize the hand writing. I hear a door slam upstairs and it startles me.
I dropped the envelope and yelled, "what's going on up there?"
I stared at the ceiling, waiting for a response.
It was quiet, no one was moving.
I again asked, "who is up there?"
I keep staring in the direction of the slamming door, obviously concerned because I had recently taken all the doors from their hinges.
Nobody says anything so I stand up from my chair and start walking towards the stairs.
Slam! Someone slams a door again.
My heart starts beating faster, it's dark and I am alone in my house.
I start walking up the stairs, my footsteps much louder than they should be.
I reach the top step, it groans under the weight of my body.
I look down the hallway, three rooms, all without doors.
I walk to the first room and step inside.
I look around, the room is empty except for a few books on the floor and the heavy curtain resting on the wall. I walked out of the room, wishing I knew what made the noise. I walk back into the hallway and decide not to check the other rooms. If someone is here, I don't think I really want to meet them.
As I approach the staircase I look down into the darkness of the entry-way.
I felt as if something was down there.
I slowly start descending the staircase. The darkness engulfs me.
Each step I take feels like it may be the last.
I turned the corner and when I look towards my table there was a man, staring directly at me. The lump in my throat collapses into a gasp.
I stare back at him, not knowing who he was or what he wanted.
He smiled and then took his eyes off of mine, turning towards the open piece of mail.
He took a pen from his shirt pocket and started scribbling on the page.
I stood there, too scared to move.
My legs felt like lead. I wanted to run away from him, I wanted to start screaming and never see this man again.
He stood up, I flinched.
He started walking towards me slowly.
I was frozen, transfixed by terror.
As he came closer I could see his face.
The utter horror of who he was and why he could be here was unbearable.
I had known him once.

I imagine I am on a beach with my family. Everything is fine. I can feel the sand under my feet, I feel weightless. Yet it's really hard to walk. I feel like it's the opposite of walking on the moon. Every time I put my foot forward it sinks in deeper. It's even worse when I am by the water. I watch my family laying on the sand, eyes fixed on the clouds. They are pointing out shapes, nobody sees what anyone else sees. My sister thinks to herself that is because we are all so different. They all look so happy. I imagine that moment often.

I imagine happiness. I feel good, I feel like a person. I am full, I am content. Life is easy to approach and easy to handle. I imagine being the person that could walk into a room, stand up and talk. I imagine smiling faces, people waving. I see balloons and parties. I see fingertips and kissing. I desire everything. I am the ghost of myself, living vicariously through me. I imagine being me, the actual me. Feeling the heat of my body, smooth skin. Smelling my hair, tasting the empty air.

I imagine christmas time. The cold air making the little boy's hair stand up on his arm. I imagine him, dressed in pajamas, laying in bed, wishing that the sun would hurry up. I imagine him staring out the window, looking at how calm his city looked. I imagine him thinking that he was the only one up that morning, until he smells sausage cooking. It's flooding into the room he shares with his brother through the air conditioning. His heart stops and then starts beating again way too fast. She's up! I imagine the boy kicking his brother's bed to wake him up. I imagine that little boy's face when he sees his living room, which had been bare the night before. I imagine that living room, covered in presents. There were foot prints in ashes leading to the fireplace. I imagine the little boy grabbing the first thing closest to him, which was an airplane. He put it on the ground and pressed the little red button on top. I imagine that plane lighting up, you can see people in their seats and the little pilots in the front seat. The plane starts making a noise like an engine and a little voice says, "We're cleared for take off!" I imagine the plane starting to roll forward by itself. I imagine the look in the boys eyes, he can't believe it! He picks up the plane and starts weaving it through the legs of every piece of furniture in the room. I imagine that little boy seeing his brother, ripping colored paper off boxes in anticipation. I imagine looking out the window and seeing the snow start to fall. I imagine the little boy seeing the snow, running to the door in only his pajamas. His mother stops him and makes him put on his shoes. I imagine that little boy, running outside with his airplane, wishing it was real. I imagine him wishing so hard that he was piloting the plane, so that he could fly over his house and see where the snow was coming from. I imagine that little boy stretching his arms up as high as they could go, like someone was going to just reach down and pull him up into the sky.

I imagine being lost. I imagine the feeling of not knowing where I am going. I imagine the freedom, the utter impossibility of meeting anyone here I knew. I look at my watch and realize I don't have any where to be. I look at my cell phone and see it's out of batteries. I have never been so free. I realize I am in my car and I am, in fact, lost. There are miles and miles of asphalt in front and behind me. I am going about 70 mph and I can't see anything but the road and empty fields to my right and left. I am lost and my car runs out of gas. It rolls slowly to a stop. There is no one in sight. I can see to the horizon and nothing is there. I turn slowly in a circle, examining everything I can take in. There is nothing. Only the ground I am standing on and the place where that ground meets the sky. There are no clouds.

I imagine I am the only person left. I imagine I am completely alone. Silence is roaring in my ears. I start walking, I don't know what direction. I keep walking for hours, until I can no longer see my car. I am completely lost. I look all around and I am the only thing there, even though I am not. I imagine laying there, head staring straight into the sky. I am pointing to clouds that aren't there and saying they look like different shapes. No one is there to hear me. I scream, I cry, I laugh. I imagine that I am clean and perfect, there is no one to corrupt me as I am the only one. I imagine the nothingness enveloping me, sending me to oblivion. I imagine that the pain is gone, I imagine that I know nothing about anything.

I don't have to imagine sadness. I don't have to imagine pain. I am living in it. It consumes me. I feel incomplete, I feel like a burden. I imagine imagining. I imagine the satisfaction of reliving satisfaction. The only way I can experience is through memory. It's like a knife so sharp that cutting anything with it would be ridiculous.

I imagine the end, I imagine death. I will never know this pleasure.
I imagine being selfish, I imagine being so involved that I can't see what I am doing
I imagine being vain, leaving all my imaginations behind.
The last thing I imagine.

© 2007 The Death of the Dregs. Website template by Arcsin