• Hello, this is Bryan Alexander and the year is 2056. I have been asleep for many years and now I am back. My doctor, Mr. Heimdall, a unique, yet kind and affectionate German physician gentleman which of who was assigned to me, worked with me to learn the basics of everyday life such as speaking, walking, eating, and etcetera, but I adapted quite quickly. It freaked me out at first, but I hastily became fascinated with seeing levitating push carts and tables without legs. At least the wheelchairs seemed to stay the same. Everyone now has no use for what I did before I went to sleep. Mostly everyone had what they called “Persocoms,” personal computers manufactured and uniquely mass produced in the shape of a human. There were different types, designs, and sizes too. Most of them were either in adult or teenager-like sizes and some had miniatures. These Persocoms could do anything the owner wanted. You could download programs into them so they could act like a normal person as well as apps for directions, phone numbers, and any other miscellaneous chore. The hospital even owned a few that done various tasks such as cleaning and minor maintenance repairs. Then there was the matrix-type design that usually only the wealthy could afford. This type was like computerized terminals that had to be surgically implanted to connect to the nerves in the back of the neck or aligned down the back beside the spine. I was told that certain terminals were designed for use of certain things like to watch what was on TV, listen to internet or frequency radio, or do a numerous amount of things. Oh, I almost forgot to mention drugs. No such thing as powder or pills because everything was liquid. The food remained as such but the utensils were oddly manufactured in an assortment of a pocket knife manner. There are many things that remained the same that even the test of time did not touch. The building may have been refurbished to the adequate new era scene, but the interior was quite alike. The clothing was quite the same, though they did accommodate the fashionable attire of the constantly changing epoch. I began to want more freedom, the hunger of seeing the outer world and all of its astonishing beauty that I observed from my compound. I was approved but with supervision of Dr. Heimdall. I affirmed it as long as I could get out for a time. The simple city I once knew had turned into a futuristic utopia, a type of place that I used to think I only saw on a classic cartoon called The Jetsons. Every vehicle now either levitated or soared in the sky above me. Even some that I observed briefly looked homemade because of the inability to not afford one. From cars to motorcycles, nothing had wheels. As Dr. Heimdall and I strolled down the sidewalk, he would tell me about certain things that I have never even heard of that peaked my interest with a great fascination. Then I began to think of what I have missed out all those years of being asleep. I told Dr. Heimdall that I needed to sit for a moment and so we found a snug bench (or so it was supposed to be) and done so. As I began to contemplate, thoughts of everything began flooding my mind. Thoughts of melancholy, of antipathy, of contentment, of affection, of delight, of everything. I pondered on my recent discussion with Dr. Heimdall about what all happened after I went to sleep. I meditated heavily on how I felt about finally being awake, about the news of my diseased parents, about my siblings, about my girlfriends disregard for me since I changed, and most importantly, how I felt about myself. I felt myself beginning to sob because of my emotional imbalance. Dr. Heimdall noticed me and sympathetically wrapped his arm, drawing me closer to him to comfort me. He told me that I’m going to be okay and that he understands how I felt. He said that he, has witnessed things in the past that was similar to things that happened to me while I was away mentally from the world. He confessed on how he lost his wife in an accident, how he felt when his father passed, and how he, too, misses his friends. At that time, I felt that Dr. Heimdall became my best friend and that I could trust him. After a few hours had passed, we decided to head back to the confined hospital as the weary sun in the distance began to leisurely sit on the horizon. Dinner was pretty good even though I still had troublesome thoughts wavering. That night was the worst night ever because my body refused to settle, but most importantly because of the inexhaustible nightmares that plagued my dreams. I sat up in my bed and just went into depression. This was too much for me, I thought amongst my weeping. Being ADHD/ADD, I eventually surpassed the sorrow and took upon consideration for at least being alive. This went on for months as I progressed until one day where I began to tremor more than normal. Reading and writing began to develop into a difficulty as I would try to write and the pencil would snap in half and I would accidentally and anonymously tear pages out from within books. As every day passed, I progressed to worsen. Even when I tried to walk, my body would jerk and twitch forcefully. It got so worse that would just freeze, suspended in time. I was confined to a wheelchair at the moment Dr. Heimdall was affirmative of my horrible condition. Then one day, my final day of being awake, everything went black as I was overcome by pitch darkness. After that, I never came back.