See the light

The darkness was complete. And, after the brightness of the industrial lighting, like a physical shock.

While people often say "I couldn't see a hand in front of my face," I realised then that I had never been in such a total absence of light in my entire life. It felt like a solid presence, as if the dark had a weight all its own.

I sank to the floor, hugging my knees, making myself as small as possible.

"Hello?" I said, hating the weakness of my voice. "Is anyone there? Hello? Switch the lights back on, please." The cracking, tremulous echo was pitiful to my ears, the brightness of the sound in sharp contrast to the blanketing feeling of the dark.

I don't know how long I sat there, with my eyes trying to get used to the lack of input. For what seemed an incredibly long time, there was no difference between what I saw, regardless of whether my eyes were shut or open.

When I first saw the green glow, I was almost certain my mind had conjured it out of the nothingness, desperately seeking something to latch onto. But I knew I couldn't ignore it: I had to know if it was real or not.

Not trusting myself to stand up, I crawled forwards on my hands and knees towards the source of the glow. For some reason I felt it was somewhere in the middle of the concrete floor, though of course I couldn't be sure - so my movements were slow and tentative.

After what felt like a few minutes, I reached the source of the glow - a grille-like pattern of dots on the floor, through which I could make out a light. Oddly though, I couldn't match what my eyes saw with what I was feeling: my fingertips still told me they were feeling the roughness of the concrete.



Story begins here.