A heavy metallic taste settled at the base of my mouth, clinging to the stale air of my room as I came to. Touching the back of my head, blood ran fresh from where I had hit my head against the back of the headrest, it stuck to my fingers congealing in the presence of fresh air. I had only been out minutes, if that. Blurred walls of red and white provided the confirmation that I was back in my apartment. Sitting up I found I was still in the far corner of the room in a single bed, clothes scattered across the browned carpet with a table resting in the centre - a mantlepiece for the monstrous tower of takeaway Chinese and Dominos, a vile diet that only abetted the bed rotting. Behind the ajar door was a wardrobe of untouched work garments - pristine jumpsuits that hadn’t seen a day of work since the beginning of the week. Barely visible from dimly lit room you could make out the logo of the factory that I used to call my home - a rowdy group of young men in their late teens and early twenties that at first didn’t have much going for them before they had been picked up by the company and given pay and purpose.


    Tears fell from my eyes as memories of years spent came flooding back, someplace that in this state I knew I would never be able to return to. Never again would I be able to see the men I would without question call my brothers, never again will I set foot in that building and breathe in the welding fumes - the nickel taste strong in your mouth and a heavy cloud that would hang in the rafters. And never again would I be able to earn a decent day''s pay, the only thing that had set me straight on the day I turned 20 and decided that my life wouldn’t be spent in a damp, dark basement.


    All because…of the visions, all of which had become too real. Everything returned at once, that strange feeling of my thick fingertips touching the fleshy mounds where my eyes should’ve been and that tingling, an electrifying sensation, the likes of which I had never felt before.


    Surely. Just surely it couldn’t have been a dream? What had felt like an eternity had but been minutes, something that no dream could’ve done.


    Retching from the considerable lack of nutrition I crawled out of my bedsheets, falling to the floor, knees and arms shaking. Sweating profusely from such a simple task I steadied myself, determined to make it to the kitchen in search of something to eat. Having not left that bed for days on end, everything within my body had begun acting against me, stabbing pains in my side arose, forcing an agonised squeal from my hoarse throat. Bones and joints crunched and hissed like a once well-oiled machine having fallen into disarray and disrepair.


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    Stepping out into the hallway for the first time in days, everything had remained immaculate, oak furnishings only covered with a light coating of dust, pale white walls blemish free and a soft glow emitted from a salt lamp, casting gentle shadows down the apartment, a fresh sight from the tarnished room which I had just emerged from.


    I stumbled into the kitchen, catching myself on the corner of the counter in front of me, falling, the thin apartment flooring feeling as though I was sinking through it, descending into a dark abyss. Derealisation took hold, my world spinning, fingers turning pale and bloodless as they clutched at the only seemingly solid object in the room. My knees buckled, a crunch echoed as my bodyweight met the wooden door of the cupboard. I fell to the side and layed there, staring into the ceiling, the bedframe wound on the back of my head reopening, leaving a delicate puddle soaking into the back of my shaggy brown mop.


    A trembling sigh escaped my lips, a tear rolling down my cheek. An armchair sat not far away, fleeting adrenaline gave me the strength I needed to propel myself into the seat, its corduroy lining and feathered cushions dissipated the aching of my bones and muscles.


    Hours passed, sleep hijacking my body in the process, a temporary rejuvenation that allowed me the energy to drag myself to the cabinets and reach for the first aid kit and a stale box of cereal. It came out in clumps, thudding against the bowl - edible enough I thought chuckling.


    Life returned to the empty shell of my body, having been provided with the first scraps of nutrition since early yesterday. A shower now beckoned me, the grime and dirt thick, like a chestplate and vambraces. If I was to ever return to normality this would be the first step and so I limped and hobbled to my escape.


    Warn water caressed my back and shoulder blades, trickling across my face and past my heavy eyelids. The relief was heavenly, steam enveloping me in a soothing blanket of comfort - those thoughts of the days before had evaporated in my moment of respite and bliss. This peace carried me through the rest of the late evening, to the point where I was sat in my living room, a paradise untampered with from before the week’s beginning, and turning on my phone I discovered the tens of emails and phone calls that had been sent in attempts to contact me in the midst of my disappearance. My heart raced, having forgotten about my friends and colleagues these past few hours, now it all felt another world away.


    Soon I told myself, soon I would go back to living a normal life when I stop being plagued with these tormenting nightmares. Something had come over me and I realised that the visions had just been that, they were only visions.


    It wasn’t real.


    I uttered, a manifestation of my nagging fears that resided deep within me, in hopes that serene sleep would take me.


    It wasn’t real.