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“What do you see, Ceara?”
My senses were assaulted — my vision blurred, sounds becoming a cacophony of unrecognizable noises, sharp and acrid scents filling my nostrils.
“Nothing,” I responded.
I needed an escape — a refuge.
So, I let my mind wander, regressing into the back of my consciousness.
I slipped past the chaos and the fear, delving deep into a memory hidden from the prying eyes of the Supervisor — a secret sanctuary I shared with Ellie.
“What do you see, Ceara?” the Supervisor demanded.
The Distant Vision, I called it.
It was our future, a possibility the universe dangled before my eyes — Ellie and me on a beach.
Sometimes the sand was purple, other times orange, but the details did not matter.
The waves lapped gently at our feet, her hand resting on her swollen belly.
Our child.
It was an image that brought with it a sense of calm, a soothing balm to the pandemonium of my current reality.
“N…Nothing,” I managed, biting out the words between clenched teeth.
It was there, in our shared dream, that I took refuge.
The beach stretched out before me, its sand warm beneath my feet, the salty air filling my lungs.
Ellie’s laughter echoed in my ears — a sound more comforting than any lullaby.
“What… do you… see… Ceara…?”
The Supervisor’s voice started to fade away, drowned out by the sound of the ocean waves, the seagulls crying overhead, and Ellie’s soft whispers.
The machine’s relentless spinning seemed to slow down, the world around me turning into a blur of indistinguishable colors.
With each passing moment, I felt myself sinking deeper into the Distant Vision, the sounds and sensations of the prison fading away.
The reason the Supervisor couldn’t see the Distant Vision was because it was a memory, not a Vision.
The memory hadn’t happened yet, not to me in any case, but the universe weaved its patterns, forming our lives, and this was one that had just materialized.
Or maybe it was just a dream.
But how could that be when Ellie — the female in the Distant Vision I’d had since I was a child — was now in my cell?
The Supervisor couldn’t know what she truly meant to me.
He just couldn’t.
Could he?
I clung to Ellie’s image, her smile providing the anchor I so desperately needed.
But even in this tranquility, the machine was relentless.
