Don't Breathe the Oxygen

I bolt upright in my bed. I stare frantically around the room. My heart is racing and I am covered in sweat. The remnants of the nightmare flash across my vision. It is blurred, as always.
Gloved hands grabbing at me. Being carried by some great beast. Trying to struggle free but being unable to move. Screams and sirens coming from every direction. A pair of red eyes. Darkness. Falling. Waking.
This is how it happened every time I had the dream. I can’t even remember how many times it had haunted me. It seemed that I could only remember the nightmare either right after I’d waken or while I was having it. I scramble to my desk in the corner of the room.
This time, I am going to remember.
I write down what I can remember with shaking hands. On the margin of the page I sketch the outline of the red eyes in pencil. I have never been an artist, but even the crude drawing strikes fear into me so that I have to look away. I tear the page from the notebook and fold it three times before stuffing it between the boxspring and mattress on my bed.
I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I glance at the clock. 6:37. Forty five minutes until my alarm will go off. I don’t want to try sleeping again anyway. A few times I had woken from the nightmare anywhere from midnight to four in the morning. I hadn't been able to fall back asleep. At least it isn’t too early. I must have gotten at least a few hours of peaceful dreaming before I woke.
I look out the window into the street. Not many people are out yet. I turn and go to take a shower before going to work early.
When I get to work, everything was the same as usual. Same grumpy boss. Same bland co-workers. Same pale office. Same boring work. Everything is routine. Sometimes I wonder if I am the only one who has a life. Everyone seems so...robotic. But I suppose that was how life was in the city. Everyone cares about money and air, nothing else.
I sit down in my desk. It is the same painted wood as everyone elses. Obviously no one has any imagination. I have a cherry-scented candle sitting on the corner of my deak. The only thing that makes it different. That marks it as mine.
Slowly, I start picking at the stack of papers before me and try to file them away. Every day the papers show up on my desk. Every day I sort them without knowing where they go. I didn’t talk to the people around me unless I was giving or receiving more paperwork. We always call each other ‘Sir’ or ‘Mam’. We never call each other by name.
I wonder why. I stop for a moment, staring at the page without reading it. Why don’t we call each other by our names? I stare blankly as my mind kicks into action. Why don’t I call my co-workers by their names? Why don’t I know their names? Why don’t they know mine?
What is my name? I let the paper I was holding fall back onto the desk. Why can’t I remember my name? Is this normal? Do I even have a name? That’s silly. Everyone has a name. I must know what it is. I must be stressed out to not remember what it is. I think back as far as I can, searching for the name.
After a few moment, I forget what I am trying to think of. I glance down at the paper in front of me. It is labeled ‘M’. I must have been reviewing the alphabet to file it correctly. I slip the paper between the ‘L’ and ‘N’ files and attend to the next sheet.
A few minutes of hard work and I have completed the stack. I stand up to fetch more. As I rise I feel a distinct dizziness knocking me off my balance. I put a hand on my desk to steady myself. This happens often. It will only take a second. I stand there for nearly a minute trying to clear my head. My stomach flips and my ears begin to pop. My legs buckle under me and I slip to the ground. Darkness rings around my vision, contracting until everything is black.
-----------------------------------------
I woke up in my nightmare. My stomach was flipping and my lungs burned. There was much pain everywhere. I was aware of my body moving up and down to the rhythm of running footsteps. I was being carried. Everything is still blurry and my eyes burned, making it nearly impossible to see anything by colors. Shades of black, grey, and red danced across my vision in no particular order. I tried to clear them up. It kinda worked. I felt my mouth fill with saliva seconds before my stomach unloads itself and I puke over my shoulder.
My vision finally started clearing up, but I couldn’t see much due to the fact that my face was inches from the back of whoever was carrying me. I tried to struggle, to get away, but my arms and legs didn’t seem to be listening to me. My head was throbbing and my lungs still burned. Sirens and buzzers rang all around me and I heard yelling everywhere.
“This way!” I heard a feminine voice yell.
“Blocked. Follow me!” Came a masculine voice from the one who is carrying me.
I started to gain authority over my body again. I tried to tip my head up, but it was too heavy so I kick my legs instead.
“She’s starting to move, Serg.”
“Good. Maybe she can tell us how to get back out of here. There!” The woman called. “In there!”
We ducked into a small room. I am not sure how we got there, but the man carrying me seemed to think it’s safe enough to stop running. He set me down so I was sitting against the far wall. I had enough strength by now to hold my head up but not much more. I felt like I just got hit by a truck. The man who was carrying me jogged back to the door and peeked out it before shoving a table in front of it. I heard footsteps running outside the door, unaware of our presence within.
This was definitely my dream. I was so tired. So unaware of what was happening around me. I felt like a spectator at a game. All this chaos was circling around me, but I saw no reason to fear it. It wasn’t real.
I looked around. There were three people in the room. The man who was carrying me, the woman whose voice I heard, and a smaller man. The man who had carried me was tall and broad. He was menacing with dark hair and small eyes. The smaller man was leaning against a wall in the corner gazing at me with an unreadable expression across his face. The woman was older than the others. She had light brown hair with flecks of grey tied back into a ponytail.
The woman walked over to me and crouched a few feet away.
“How ya feelin’?” She asked.
I tried out my voice. “I’ve had better days. What is going on?”
“Well, Major, right now we’re trying to figure out how to get out of this place. You know the way?”
“The way where? I don’t even know who you are or where I am…” I trailed off. What is going on here? This doesn’t seem like a dream. Then what is it?
“Are you sure, Major? You don’t remember?”
“No. I don’t know what you’re talking about and why are you calling me ‘Major’?”
The woman looked surprised. “You always insist we call you by rankings, Mam.”
“I’m no officer. I have an office job. You have the wrong person.”
The woman reached towards me. I reacted automatically blocking her arm and knocking her legs out from under her with one sweeping kick. She fell awkwardly to the ground as I stood up. How did I do that? I’ve never hurt anyone before.
“Geez. I was just checking your dogtags.” The woman scoffed, picking herself back up.
I looked down. Sure enough, hanging around my neck were dogtags. A name was stamped at the top.
“Rachel Sterling” I read out loud. I looked up at the woman. “That’s not me.”
“Of course it’s you. Dontcha’ even remember who your are?” She said sarcastically.
“I know who I am and this isn’t it.” I said gesturing at the metal in my hand.
A new voice came from the corner of the room. “It’s no use, Jeina, she’s been wiped clean.” The other man spoke.
The woman, Jeina, reacted. “Wiped? Is that even possible? I mean, I know they were working on it, but they’ve never gotten anywhere before.” She addressed the other man.
I stared between them. “What do you mean ‘wiped’?” I asked.
The smaller man spoke. “Your memory has been taken from you. You can’t remember who you are. You probably don’t know who we are either.”
“I know who I am!” I almost shouted. I was starting to get annoyed.
“Interesting.” He mused. “Have you been fed this information? Hypnosis? Trauma? How did they do it?” He was getting excited and took a few steps away from the wall.
Jeina shut him down. “Stop it, Gavin! This is a rescue mission, not a field trip for you. The only reason you’re here is because we needed someone expendable, not so that you could get information.” He stopped, fuming before turning to lean against the wall again. She turned to me. and continued in a softer tone. “Tell us what you know. Maybe then we can get you to remember.”
The larger man spoke up. “Do you know how you got here or how to get back out?”
“Let her speak for crying out loud. She’s overwhelmed as it is!” Jeina snapped.
They all stared intently at me. “I don’t know why you are all so worried. This isn’t even real. This is a dream. A nightmare I keep having. Pretty soon I’ll wake up and this will all go away.” I tried to make them understand.
“...Shes mad.” The large man said.
“No, she’s not.” Gavin said, staring at me.
We all looked at him.
He continued. “I heard they were trying a new strategy. They made a gas. A hallucinogen, sedative, and poison rolled into one. They call it Oxygen. I thought it was just a myth…” He trailed off, staring intently at the ground, thinking.
“Wait.” I stutter. “I know Oxygen. we need it to live. We breathe it. It keeps us alive. It isn’t some gas they invented. It’s everywhere.” I tried to explain it to them.
The larger man spoke up. “Carp. She’s dependant on it.”
“We All are! Don’t you guys know anything?” I inquired. I wasn’t sure if they were joking or just stupid.
“Well what does it do!?” Jeina asked Gavin. The worry in her voice seemed to echo in the small room.
“I guess it makes you sleep. It makes you dream whatever they want. While you sleep, it eats up whatever memories you have. I didn’t think it was possible…”
Everyone stared at me. “No, you’re wrong. This is the dream. I have a life. I have a job and an apartment. There is nothing here.”
Gavin walked towards me. This time, Jeina didn’t stop him. “No, Rachel, you’re believing what they want you to believe. The minute you accept that, you might be able to get your real memories back.”
“No. That’s not possible! I know what I’m talking about. I’ve seen it!”
“And we have nothing to go on that says she will get any memories back, Jeina.” Gavin said.
Jeina ignored him. “Fine. I’ll play along. Where do you work.”
“An office.”
“What office?”
“I don’t know, does it matter? I was there!”
She sighed. “Fine. You said Rachel isn’t your name. If it isn’t then what is?”
“I...I...can’t remember right now.”
Gavin scoffed. “They didn’t even give her a name.”
Jeina cut in. “It’s okay. You just need to think. I’m sure your memories are there. You just have to try.” Gavin rolled his eyes.
“Shhh!” The larger man interrupted. He ran over to the door and put his ear against the wall.
Shouts and sirens were coming from the hallway. The man spun frantically around. “Fight or flight?” He asked.
Jeina stared from him to me and finally to Gavin. “We’ve got to run. At least try. We’re like fish in a barrel here. I was hoping that they thought we were out... Get that table out of the way, Cale. Get ready, you two.”
“What’s going on?” I asked frantically.
“We’re making a break for it. You okay to run?”
“Yeah, but who are we even running from?”
“The Alliance. We’ve got to go!” The others were already at the door.
“But…”
“Rachel, it’s either: Run now and have a chance. Or: stay here and either get shot or go back to dream land.”
“Okay…” I slunk up to the door. I wasn’t even sure why I was trusting these people I had just met, but I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t.
Jeina started counting. “Three… Two… One… Now!”
Everything happened all at once. We bolted out of the room. There were armed men running at us from the right, so we ran left.
They started shooting.
There was so much chaos. Jeina and Cale both produced weapons I hadn’t noticed before and fired them behind us as we ran.
I saw Jeina go down first. She tried to stand, to keep going, but her leg was twitching and she couldn’t seem to get to her feet. I hadn’t realized that I’d stopped until Cale, grabbed my shoulder and pulled me his direction to keep running. The three of us sprinted down the hall. A few more feet before another dozen armed men cut us off from an intersecting hallway.
We were trapped.
I looked around at Cale. He must have been out of bullets because he was spinning in circles, trying to find a way out. I didn’t see Gavin. He must have been hit too. I look behind us in the direction we came, searching for them, but I couldn’t see anything between the uniformed men moving quickly towards us.
I did the only thing I could think of. I put both hands up into the air and prayed they wouldn’t shoot. Cale looked at me and did the same.
The men came up cautiously and one of them put a gun to Cale’s head and pulled the trigger. I screamed as he fell.
They grabbed me and tied my hands behind my back before steering me back down the hall. My thoughts were scrambled. Why hadn’t they killed me too? Were Jeina and Gavin killed as well? What was going on!?
I looked around frantically as we walked, trying to figure out where I was and where they were taking me. I tried to keep track of the turns we made, but the building seemed to be composed of identical hallways forming a daunting maze. I soon lost track and simply stared at the ground as we walked.
This was no dream. That was for certain.
They were right. This was the real world.
The place was a lot quieter now. No yelling or sirens. Only the sound of footsteps as the small army lead me down the halls.
Finally, we stopped in front of a wall. One of the men stepped forward and flashed an ID over a scanner I hadn’t seen before. The wall opened up into a sterile-looking elevator. I was shoved inside. Two guards joined me. The rest stayed in the hall.
One man pressed a button and the elevator dropped extremely quickly, leaving my stomach behind. The doors opened and I was lead into a white room. The two men quickly put on gas masks. The eyes glowing red. one of them sealed off the elevator. The other opened a vault-like door. They were putting me back in with the Oxygen.
I frantically filled my lungs with the clean air around me just as the door opened. I held my breath. They untied my hands and shoved me inside, snapping the vault door shut behind them.
I held on to what breath I had, but it was fading fast. Around me I saw people laying on the floor. Asleep.
I turned and tried to pry the door open with my fingers to no prevail. Frantically, I scurried over the other to the other side of the room. It was getting difficult to see through the gas. This vile Oxygen. I couldn’t breathe it. No matter what. I couldn’t let it in my body
I sank down onto the floor, and wrapped my arms around my stomach and tried to ignore the burning in my lungs. It only took half a minute. The last thing I knew, I was laying on the floor like the ones around me.
-----------------------------------------
My eyes snap open and I am released from the nightmare. I stare at the room around me, panting heavily. The dream is fleeting form my memory so much that I can practically see the colors fade. I jump up as fast as I can and grab a notebook from my desk. I jot down what I remember. I am forgetting quickly. For some reason, that scares me. Why is that? It’s just a dream. Either way, I feel like I need to remember it, so I write it down.
I write what I can remember. A man falling to the ground. Sirens everywhere. Red eyes glowing. Bodies lying all around me.
I tear out the page and fold it in half. For some reason, I don’t want anyone to find this. As I fold it over again, I remember something else and pull the paper back open. I write it down.
Don’t breathe the Oxygen.
I stare at those words. That doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn't I want to breathe Oxygen? That’s what's keeping me alive, right? I try to think of a reason. Nothing comes to me. I shrug and fold the paper three times. I suddenly feel like I am being watched. I don't want anyone to see the paper. I don’t want them to know I had been dreaming. I look around the room for a place to hid the page. I scurry over to my bed and stuff the sheet between the mattress and the boxspring. As I withdraw my hand, it brushes against something. It feels like paper. Why would there be paper under my mattress?
I glance around me to make sure that no one is watching, though I know there isn't, and I lift up the corner to get a better look. Free of their confinements, dozens of papers fall from the frame. I gasp and shove it completely off the bed. There are at least forty papers here.
I stare around at them. How had they gotten there? I begin to experience a distinct sense of Dejavú.
Slowly, I crouch down and rummage through the papers. They were all the same; yellow lined notebook paper. I looked over at my notebook. But...I had never used it before today. Had I?
I pick up one paper and unfold it slowly. The page is blank. I toss it aside and pick up another. Blank. I grab another. Blank as well.
I sort through all of them. Not a single page had anything written on them. I step back. Hadn’t I just written something on one? Yet they were unmarked.
I strain to try and remember what I had written. I focus as hard as I can trying to chase down the fleeting memory. Gas. Something about gas. Oxygen. Don’t breathe the Oxygen! I begin to hyperventilate and look around me quickly. I have no reason to believe that the Oxygen will hurt me, so why am I so afraid of the gas being sucked into my lungs?
I run around the room in a panic. What if someone sees me? Why do I even care? I run over to the bed and tossed the mattress back on. I scoop up the papers and shove them in the trash can. Something is horribly wrong. No one else can know.
I am furious at myself for panting. I kept drawing it into my lungs. That was bad. I wasn't sure why, but it was bad. I feel as though I forget more of the dream with every breath. I speak the words out loud so I don’t forget them.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
I run to the window and look out.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
Cars are zooming up and down the street going to work.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
I try to think of a way to stop breathing.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
Why do I keep saying that? I can’t remember. But I know it is important, so I keep going.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
I lower my voice to a whisper so no one will hear.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
That’s silly. I’ll die without it.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
Dying. People stop breathing why they die, don’t they?
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
I know what I have to do. I have to stop breathing. Why? I don’t remember. But I know that it is important.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
I throw my window open.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
What am I doing again? It’s important. I know it’s important.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
Right. I have to stop breathing. I have to die. I have to keep the Oxygen from getting into my lungs.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
What will the neighbors think? I swing my legs over the edge of the pane and look down ten stories into the rushing traffic of the street.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
The neighbors won’t think anything. People don’t end their lives. Not on purpose. That would be crazy.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
Maybe I am crazy, but I know it is important. I have to jump. No one is going to stop me.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
I push off and feel myself falling through the air. The air I am going to get out of my lungs.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
I don’t feel it when I hit the pavement.
-----------------------------------------
I woke up in the same place I fell asleep. I looked around the room. I remembered everything. There were sleeping bodies lying all around me. I remember about the Oxygen. Quickly, I filled my lungs with air, but it’s too late. I’d already breathed it in.
I knew what Oxygen did. I knew I had breathed it. The only thing I didn’t know was why I was still unconscious. I looked at the people around me. They were out cold. I waited for it to do the same to me, but it didn’t. I was awake. I held on to consciousness.
The gas no longer worked on me. I glanced around, unsure of what to do. I had to get out. that was for certain. I hopped over the sleeping people and inspected every inch of the room. It was a good size. The walls were all made out of stone and it was extremely hot. After a few minutes I had started to sweat. I searched the walls, looking for an exit besides the vault-like door I had come through. I had to get out. I had to get back to my children!
I stopped at this thought. My children. Yes, I had children. Three of them. I had forgotten. I smiled to myself, imagining their faces. They were so precious to me. Memories began to flood back. My husband, Richard with the children. I remembered who I was. Rachel Sterling. I was 36 years old. I was a Major in the rebel army. We were at war with the alliance who had broken the economies of every major country in the world. We were fighting for our lives and for the lives of our children. My children. I had to get out. I had to live. If only to see them.
I looked around the room. There was a man sleeping a few feet away from me. I recognized his face. He was my boss in my dream world. Not only that, I also recognize him as a First Class Private. He was one of my men.
I crouched down beside him. I had to wake him up. But how? I shook his shoulders and patted his face, trying to get a response. None came. I wondered if he could hear me. I spoke to him as I had done to myself.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
He didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to do. I started to wander around the room saying it out loud as the same rate I had done before.
“Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
No one responded. Maybe they could hear me, maybe they couldn’t. I had to keep trying. I couldn’t just leave them ignorant. I tried something new.
“Kill yourself.” It sounded dark coming from my lips, but as far as I knew, that was the only way to get out.
“Kill yourself. Don’t breathe the Oxygen.” I tried them together. It still sounded bad.
I continued chanting this phrase for what seemed like hours.
“Kill yourself. Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
I kept repeating it, wandering around the room. I had no way to measure the time that was crawling by. The chanting helped me to stay sane. I only hoped they could hear me. That they would figure it out.
“Kill yourself. Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”
I gave up walking once my feet were sore and my voice hoarse. I sat down in the corner of the room. I kept whispering to myself.
“Kill yourself. Don’t breathe the Oxygen.”

Slowly, people began to wake.