• Day 1:

    tab It has been a long time since I have seen the sky. Actually, it has been a long time since I have seen anything. It's kind of hard to see when you're enclosed in a glass tube, filled to the brim with a murky, anti-septic green liquid, with bubbles frothing around you every time you breath. Not to mention, you can't see much when you've been asleep for the past 24 months. But that's beside the point; I'm awake, now, and I still can't see a dang thing.
    tab I've gotten used to idea of not being able to wear clothes inside "The Tank". I mean, it's hard to study something when it's all covered up, isn't it. At least, I'm guessing that's what They are doing, outside The Tank. Studying. Why else would I have five gazillion wires attached all over my body, like blood-sucking leeches on human skin. But, I could be wrong. I can't hear anything, so I don't know for sure.
    tab My body keeps twitching. My muscles have been dormant for so long, their not used to moving. I'm weak. My stomach is grumbling for the first time in a long time. I don't know how I have survived for so long.
    tab I feel a sudden longing for something. Something I can't fully remember. It's tickling the edges of my memory, so I know it's there; I just can't reach it. My mind is muddled. Nothing feels real, it all feels like a dream. I wish it were a dream.
    tab I glance down. Through the murk, I can see my hand. I try and move it. It only twitches, at first. Gradually, though, I curl it into a fist. It's not a very tight fist, since my grip is weak, but it's a fist. Solid, unlike everything around me. I begin to experiment, moving parts of my body around, trying to get the feeling back. My reaction is slow. My body aches from lying unused for so long. Reaching out a hand, I search for the barrier between me and Them. When my fingers brush against something hard and invisible, I feel a jolt of cold rush through me. Normally, I would have disliked the sensation, but I haven't felt it in so long that, this time, I welcome the change in temperature. I feel the goose bumps rise across my skin. This sensation, too, I welcome.
    tab I reach out, and touch the glass again. The feeling is not so cold this time. I reach out my other hand, and then I see my hands, pressed, side-by-side, against the invisible barrier. I look down at my feet. It's a bit hard to see them. I wiggles my toes a bit, and my feet jump into focus. My lips curve upward, in a gesture I hardly remember. I'm smiling. I don't remember it, but it's a reflex. My body remembers it.
    tab All of a sudden, I feel very tired. All the moving has exhausted me. This makes me angry; another sensation I don't really recall. I'm angry because I'm so weak, because my body is so weak. Frustrated, I begin to thrash around just a bit in my Tank. Faintly, I can here a frantic beeping on the other side of the glass. My ears p***k up towards the sound. Finally, I can hear something other than my own breathing. Again, I feel a frantic pang of nostalgia, but for what, I can't recall. I thrash more, because, suddenly, I'm mad again. I want out. I swing a fist at the glass. When it connects, pain rushes up my arm, and I hear myself inhale sharply. This makes me even more frustrated. I take another swing at the glass, and suddenly, I'm beating upon it with all the strength I have. I'm kicking, punching, and doing everything I can to break the barrier. I can't quite remember, but I even think I head-butted it.
    tab Suddenly, I can't breath. The mask over my mouth and nose has stopped pumping me oxygen. I'm not inhaling water, but I'm not inhaling anything else, either. It's a empty vacuum. I try to suck in any air that might be left, but I get nothing. Black spots begin to swim in my vision. I'm blacking out. I have no air, I'm going to die. My whole body goes limp, and my eyes begin to roll back in my head. Then everything goes black.

    ┬ęBrittany Roberston