Falling. I was falling through air, about to crash into the ground. Then, like a marionette, I was yanked back from this suicide. I bolted upright in bed, panting. It was a dream. Maybe it wasn't. Either way, my alarm clock pulled me back into reality. I got out of bed and made my way to the kitchen. A cold breeze floated through the kitchen. I shivered. No sign of my roommate waking up.
I made myself some coffee, then walked to his room. He wasn't there. I figured he was probably in the cafeteria downstairs getting breakfast. I quickly drank my coffee, then got dressed and ran down the stairwell to the cafeteria. Empty. Not a single soul was there. I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't sleeping, dreaming still, but I wasn't. I checked the clock—10:34 AM. Worried, I ran down the endless hallway of rooms, but not one sound from anywhere. Then I felt the cold hands of sleep creeping up my neck. My eyelids drooped and I fell over, suddenly asleep.
Once again, I was falling. Falling through an endless sky, with nothing to see or grab on. I couldn't tell if it was light or dark out. Then, I stopped falling. Everything was dark. I could make out a group of figures standing in front of me. I heard whispers and could make out some words: "can't live," "must die," "falling."
Then, one figure noticed me and told his friends. They all looked at me and asked:
"Remember when you were on the edge of sleep and it felt like you were falling? Then your body gets up in a thump and you flash awake. Remember? We do. We let you live. But now you have overstayed your welcome. Now, it is our turn."
They said this perfectly in sync. I kept falling. Time got up again and ran forward. I kept falling. Then my helpless body smashed into an invisible platform. Pain surged through my body and my mind went blank. Now I have delivered this message to those who have experienced this falling sensation. Always remember that when your body jerks you back into reality, they let you live.