The Journey: Questions

[Reese_Hawkins 0]

The Journey

 

Questions

 

 

Reese sat down, he was tired from today. No, he was tired OF today.  Today, oh God today he caused someone to almost lose their life.  He had spent the majority of the day in a daze.  

 

"Work? Goto where? Oh yeah, I work in Engineering."

 

Slowly, he put his hands in his face and cried, and just sat there crying.  He cried for the longest time, and he didnt know why.  He didn't particularly know Loami, all he knew of him was that he was a Trill, and he usually was in Engineering giving order to him and Frox.  Reese sat up, and he checked the chronometer, he had sat there for 38 minutes.  Just as he began to tell the computer to begin recording for his log, he became overwhelmed by depression again.

 

Thoughts, lots of thoughts, so many thoughts, so many running through his head at Warp 10 speeds.  He didnt have time to think about them all it seemed, that was illogical to think you dont have time to think about what your thinking.  Reese slumped over his console in his quarters again, overcome with guilt and remorse.  He couldnt move, he didn't want to move.  He didn't deserve to move.  Then, he sat up, his emotions, like a faucet, turned off.  He felt his left eye twitch slightly,  he them focused on one thing.  Water, a glass of water, so serene.  It just sat there, motionless and perfect.  IT WAS PERFECT.  He then felt one thought inside his head emerge from the calm sea of his mind:

 

"It is perfect, you are not, make it wrong.  Prove it wrong, you must, you will."

 

Reese stood up stiffly, and very mechanically walked over to the glass of water that mocked him, and stabbed at him with bravado of what it was not.  he picked it up calmly, and in rage, hatred, he threw it across the room.  He watched its cylindrical form burst against the tritanium bulkhead.  He watched the individual pieces of glass break up into smaller slivers, and then pulled to the ground by the gravity plating below him.  It was not perfect now, it could not mock him now.  But he was not perfect now.  He was no more perfect than before.  He felt another thought float up to consciousness again:

 

"You are not perfect, you deserved to be that glass.  How could you, it meant nothing to you.  Look at yourself now, a disgrace to your family, and your heritage."

 

Reese, again, broke down, his own mind was against him.  He collapsed onto the floor in a cumbersome looking fetal position.  He sobbed.  He felt another thought rise, but this time, it said:

 

" Why didn't you tell him about the readings you found in the debris, it would have saved you alot of trouble, ya know, he wouldn't have died."

 

Reese screamed out to his thoughts, as if answering a person, " He is NOT dead!  Shut up! Shut up! I don't want to hear this!  Stop it!!!!"

 

" Why?  You know he will die, you know I am right.  You know you are wrong.  Stop fighting, give up, you know you will."

 

Reese did not respond to it, his mind had turned against him, it was no longer him, it succeeded from himself and was now his enemy or so it seemed.  He rolled over, and stared at the bulkhead staring down at him.  He could feel the emotional wave crushing him.  He felt depressed, he felt remorseful, guilty, small, and sudden flashes of happiness and humor, and neutral would come shining through the curtain of black that was draped on him.  

 

He couldn't breathe, his lungs weren't working, what was going on?  He tried to gasp in air, but nothing came in.  He started to panic and began to roll around on the ground, hitting his table, the floor, and every now and then a piece of glass would cut his hands.  Then, after about a minute of this, Reese fell into unconsciousness.   He laid there in a small pool of blood from the rather deep cuts he was dealt on the floor, and slept.  His breathing was shallow, and he still was sweating profusely. He laid there until 0700 hours the next day...

 

...His thoughts receded into the sub-consciousness for now.  It was quiet, nothing.  He exsisted only in oblivion now, he floated through the blackness, calm, like he was when he was in the academy, and the weeks before this on the Arcadia.  He was at peace with whatever was causing this.

 

He knew this would not last forever, Reese cherished this time of peace, he needed to find out what was happening to him.

 

Why is he floating here now?  Why is he aware of his unconsciousness?  Why did his mind say he was a disgrace to his heritage?  So many questions, why so many questions?  And where are the answers?  He needed to find these, he needed to sort out what was real and what was fake.  He needed, guidance.