“Escape, well there’s an idea,” he thought.
Paul’s clammy hands tugged at his tie forming a knot around his neck. Sweat dripped from his forehead, soaking his collar.
“Could he really do this?”he asked himself.
Thoughts flooded his mind. He tried to catch them. Why was he here? What had led to this?
There were no perceivable answers and yet the panic pervading his body intensified. His breath became more ragged and his heart felt like it wanted to leave his body at any minute.
“Perhaps it was his heart that needed to escape!” He dismissed that thought as quickly as it had entered his head. Don’t be absurd! He could have laughed at the ridiculousness of that thought had his overcrowded mind not been so distracted.
He wanted to scream at the voice within, “Shut up it makes no sense to me!”
Looking round the room he saw no need for the immediate fear that had taken over his body. Trying to regain some kind of composure he started to focus on the outside world. He walked towards the window.
As he peered out, the view of the beautiful rolling countryside was not lost on him especially the way in which the clouds were touched by the red ruby glow of the rising sun.
Still his breathing would not slow easily and his hand shook as he touched the ice cold glass. “It was winter,” he reassured himself, beginning to become more lucid. Waking in such a state had shaken him, made him lose complete touch with the reality of the world around him and as he began to feel more grounded a little voice inside his head said, “You can do this!”
He sought sanctuary in the stillness of the room and yet he knew he needed to run, here was not where he wanted to be. He didn’t deserve this, his life appeared to be over, and he couldn’t seem to take back control.
Paul paced the room. The feelings in his stomach caused his muscles to contract painfully. He was conscious of them screaming to his agitated mind to relax but he couldn’t.
The cool neutral green walls of the room did little to still his mind. Paul touched the wall by the window. Its solid form was comforting. He soothed himself with the idea that this was not a dream; there was something concrete around him, even if it took the form of a box, a cage even.
With that another wave of heightened anxiety flooded his body. He was captive in this viredescent cell and he would never be able to leave.
He sat on the edge of the bed. The plain white single duvet provided a stark contrast to the colour of the walls. Apart from a single wardrobe and a utilitarian set of bedside drawers the room was pretty bare. The floor, covered with what looked like shiny linoleum, glistened slightly in the morning light.
“At least the room was clean,” he thought. His terrified mind was calming again slightly.
Focussing on a spot of light on the floor he tried to slow his breathing. He collected his thoughts enough to keep himself steady, still aware that his body was still in fight or flight mode.
Studying his well-groomed hands, Paul was sure he had worked in a well heeled environment. Even if he had wanted to look at himself, there was no mirror in the room. He gingerly touched his face. Stubble round his mouth and chin indicated he needed a shave but apart from this it felt normal.
“I may feel slightly alien inside but outwardly I am a regular human being,” he thought.
Could he remember anything about himself? He felt he had family. His mind was foggy. Paul tried to recall where he lived, who his loved ones were. Faces appeared in his mind’s eye. There was a beautiful woman with golden hair and smiling eyes, a small boy giggling and finally a young girl playing on a swing. He immediately knew them to be his family. Where are they?
“I must try to find them,” he whispered quietly to himself.
Now the terror within was chained for a moment he opened the drawers of the bedside table. In it he found an overnight bag and some changes of clothes. Had he come here voluntarily? This didn’t seem to explain why he was so fearful.
He strained to hear any sounds outside his room. It was early; perhaps he was the only one awake. This could be his opportunity to disappear. If he got out he could find a place to hide from everyone. He could go where no-one could find him and he felt sure he would feel better. Yes, he had to feel better than this.
Another wave of alarm overcame his body. This was it; he was going to die surely! He lay back against the pillow, closing his eyes as the surge of fear rose within him. Was this all life held for him? Perhaps he didn’t want to live like this. He curled into a ball and hoped he would escape from these feelings.
A sound interrupted his terrified thoughts. The door opened and in walked a young man. Paul remained in a foetal position.
“Good morning Mr Hayes,” he said with a concerned smile, “How did you sleep last night?”
Paul turned to observe the new arrival.
“Not too well from the looks of you!” the young man continued not waiting for a response.
Paul sat up slowly. Gathering his thoughts the reality of his situation hit him like a ton of bricks.
“I think I slept ok but when I awoke I panicked. I don’t want to feel like this anymore!” Paul responded quietly.
“It’s to be expected,” the young man explained, “This is a start of a long journey on the road to recovery. You need to rest and let us help you. Escaping from yourself is impossible
