I’m alive. I think. I mean I think I’m alive. What I mean to say is I think I’m alive, and so I must be alive if I think it.

… Pretty sure I’m alive.

But this isn’t how I remember being alive. I’ve only just woken up, and I should expect to wait for my eyes to adjust to being able to see, but this pitch black encompassing my view is… shuddersome, and then I realize I can’t shiver,… and then I realize I can’t move, and then I begin to panic.

It’s as if I can’t even give any effort to move. There’s this wall hindering my thoughts from telling my muscles to move. Move!

It suddenly becomes frigid. It feels as if I’m tied up like a piece of meat in a freezer. I’m begging someone to let me out, but my mouth won’t open. I can’t even feel the vibrations in my throat.

I only hear the screaming pleas in my head. Screaming help me!

I become paranoid. Fearful for my life. I can’t see, or move, or talk, or hope for salvation. There is only the mindless, screaming paranoia in my head.

Then I wake up.