| abstract | - He awoke in the gloom of that day. In that time. In that place. In that world. He didn’t know where he was, except that he had just escaped a void of nothing. Even his mind left him; all he could think of was one word. “Time?” He didn’t hold any view of why he wanted the time-- he just did. Perhaps he was late for some date, or maybe he just wanted the time. His head throbbed from the cold, but the rest of his body seemed to be calloused from it. He staggered a few feet before his eyes began to dilate a little to the dim world. He saw that he was in a rye field; he at least knew that now. As his eyes adjusted more, he could see the sun in the horizon, though he could not tell if it was rising or falling yet. “This would be a lovely place if my head wasn’t acting like it had been hit by a huge boulder.” Though what could he remember, he might of hit one for all he knew. The man looked at his body to see that he was wearing formal white dressing attire. As he looked closer at it, he saw fine dust on the tie. He tried to brush it off, but it seemed to be stuck on it. He sighed; it didn’t matter in the slightest. The man looked around, this time looking at the opposite of the sun’s location, and saw a far shadow. The wind whipped his clothes, and he felt some sense of remembering. The form of that shadow: it reminded him of his forgotten childhood. The place he was born: Denver. He remembered moving to Aurora, but not ever leaving there for what he remembered to be the rest of his childhood. A small ray of light hit him, and he looked down to the source. It was a gleaming piece of grass, standing forlorn in the rye. “Well, hey there,” He smiled. “Didn’t see you there!” As he watched the grass, he felt the wind pick up again, and looked up once more. The light seemed to have gotten brighter, yet the shadow seemed to have gotten bigger. “Well then, that’s an interesting site…” said the man. The wind blew again, this time whispering more into his ears. The man then remembered that he went to a school… Dalton was the name. He remembered there were many kids there. However, he had an impression he knew only one of the people there truly. The wind picked up once more, and the whispering in his ears began to form faint words. “Come…” it stated. The man felt peace, and dread. He didn’t know the dread part, but that voice… That voice gave him memories of a little boy, and the hazy shades of summer when it was hot… The man began to walk, stepping on several blades of grass. The voice and the wind increased in pitch and intensity, yet the man did not fall; in fact, his pace seemed to quicken. Now he was starting to remember his name. “Ja- Ja-” he tried to utter. “Jason?” That struck a chord; it had to be it. “Jason…” Jason whispered. “That sounds like a fine name to me!” Jason walked through a small shrub, feeling its leaves tickling his ankles. The light continued to grow, yet the shadow never ceased to stop showing itself. It reminded Jason of the boy again. Yes, that boy. Jason remembered on the 2nd year of school, he met a boy. He was small, even for his age. His skin color was light brown, and his curly hair also. His voice was stuttered from braces, but everything else that Jason remembered from the boy was completely fine. The boy’s physique was amazing, and his complexion clear. “Who is he? why do I know him?” A small tree went past overhead, and the grass rustled by Jason’s feet. The rye was still there, but it was muffled by underbrush and grass. The wind picked up again, and Jason heard the voice once more. “Come here, Come here!” A tree grew in front of Jason, and he had to quickly move to the right so he wouldn’t hit it at his fast pace. For a second, Jason couldn’t see; all he saw were two boys running past two great oaks. However, the vision faded as quickly as it had come to him. Still it stayed etched inside his mind as if he had first seen it. It seemed to Jason that one of the boys, which he assumed was himself, had grown a little. But that boy... he seemed to have stayed the same… Jason’s pace quickened even further, but he was never out of breath. More under bush grew, but it did not slow his pace. “… Do you remember…” That was all the voice said. It was not a question, either: more of a statement, a fact. And Jason did remember something. On what appear to be a graduation, Jason remembered coming up to the front and receiving many rewards for different things. Many clapped, but not as much as the boy from his other memories. Jason felt warm in his heart from seeing the boy, but something in his throat told him something else. It wasn’t the boy… but…. As Jason made his way through ever-growing trees, he kept remembering different mundane things in life. He remembered the old biking trail that etched through Aurora all the way to Cherry Creek. He remembered there used to be an old field down below the apartment complex he lived in, but during his time in middle school had been filled with dilapidated condos. That memory had a deep impact on Jason, for he remembered playing with that boy there. “Do you remember…” whispered the voice, “middle school.” The memories were darker to him than the others, but he remembered. He saw many kids run pass his field of vision in those memories, but he couldn’t remember ever liking them. In fact, he held dissent in his mind, but something kept him from remembering why. The sun was now in his eye, and seemed to go down faster than the sun in his memories. His pace had become so fast, he thought he would reach the end of this world: even with the new trees and foliage popping up everywhere. However, the shadow kept on getting bigger and bigger, and—out in the distance – was a figure of a man.
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