Chapter 1: A restless night
I need some air.
Tonight, I wasn't content with the stale atmosphere of my apartment. I couldn't relax with the confinement of these four walls keeping me in. Even the exhilarating mental stimuli created by diving into another's created world through text couldn't hold my restlessness at bay.
There was nothing particularly stressful from the day, except possibly the lack of anything really substantive. This whole week I've felt like I've merely been surviving, and not advancing in any direction. Not that I was entirely sure what direction I would want to advance in, but I seemed O.K. with advancing for the sake of itself.
I sighed, tossed my book to the side, sat up, and examined at my clock, which doubled as a thermometer. 2:43 A.M. 42 degrees Fahrenheit. I looked out my window. Raining. I smiled to myself. Whatever.
I swung myself from my bed, and slipped from my room. Moving slowly through my living room, I eventually found myself in my kitchen. Here, I stopped, and debated heading back to bed, and re-trying this whole sleep thing. I stood there for a moment, staring blatantly into the darkness. Sleep was important. Energy was never a problem. It was the lack of efficiency that came with the garbled, tired mind.
I let the restlessness from the day keep me from my bed, and continued to my front door. Grabbing my favorite pair of running shoes, and a light jacket, I stepped into the rest of the world.
Taking a second to let the cold, wet air settle into my lungs, I began thinking on where I was going. There was no real destination, but I liked to have a general idea of where I wanted to end up. I stared upward, looking for an end to the tall buildings around me, and let my new environment soak in.
It felt quite nice outside. The crisp, cold rain seemed to wash away the stale presence of my apartment. The effect of each cold rain drop stimulated my senses. The dull orange of the street lights reflected off the wet ground. The overall effect was relaxing.
I looked to my right, and gazed downtown, its buildings and streets creating a maze-like structure. It looked as though it could keep one occupied for hours. I saw the occasional set of headlights navigating the streets, but otherwise, it was relatively calm. During the day, it was almost always saturated with individuals moving about at a rushed pace, creating high energy. Something about the lack of people in a usually very populated area sounded inviting, and so my direction was set.
With no more excuses chaining me in place, I took my first stride.
Then the crisp features of the world around me transformed into a blur. Only momentarily, as my eyes quickly adjusted to the new pace.
I kept my gaze forward, as my body propelled me onward. I could feel the blood pumping through my legs as I landed each foot, only to raise it again. My arms drove back and forth, further driving the momentum of my body.
I started out slow. Warming up, I let my body ease into the sudden motion I had put into it. I ran down my block, turned back and made my way to the opposite end, faster now. There I stopped, and steadied my breathing. It felt good, liberating, to let my body use some of its potential motion. My heart rate was just beginning to accelerate, and this helped lighten my mood immensely.
I took off again. This time, unrestrained. I let the unnatural energy that surged within me flow through my muscles. It pulsed through my legs, which carried me back down the block. The speed I was running made my surroundings almost impossible to process.
Almost. But understanding ones surroundings was the key idea. To let a pedestrian, a sign or even a an oncoming car go unnoticed would almost definitely lead to an impact. Impacts are generally undesirable.
Cars particularly so.
Especially knowing that the car would come more damaged then I would.
I reached the end of the block, and quickly turned left, keeping pace.
Right. Left. Left. Left. Right. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.
I continued on for several more blocks picking whatever direction I felt like, letting my body re-familiarize with the energy within me.
At the end of the twelfth (or thirteenth?) block waited a ten story apartment building. Feeling warmed up, I let more of the energy flow through my body, and dead on sprinted, with no intention of turning or slowing.
I always found small humor thinking what it would have looked like to someone who may have been watching. This man, running sporadically through the streets, now sprinting head-on into a building, obviously anticipating a very painful impact.
I'd like to talk to that guy, I thought. Not that it would be a good idea for someone to put a face to this crazy figure, I jested at myself.
About two to three yards from the building, I launched myself into the air, letting my forward momentum push me towards the brick wall.
For me, there was always this stall in the air, where, somehow, time would slow down to let me enjoy the feeling. It felt very free, these few seconds suspended. Gravity seemed, (definitely only seemed) to let its hold off of me. For just these few seconds, I really felt like there were no limitations on where I wanted to go. That the laws of the world didn't really bind me. How could they?
That feeling was always short lived, however. The perceptually made slow motion came to an end when the gravitational force overcame the upward momentum from my jump, and I began to fall. But this, too, was momentary.
I stretched out my right leg, and caught it on the hard stone of the wall and immediately pushed down. The friction caused by the force of my foot pushing on the rough surface of the brick kept me from sliding downwards, and so the only way that was left to go was up. My body ascended vertically very quickly for a second, before gravity again began to overcome. As the upward momentum began to decrease, I caught my other foot on the wall and pushed myself up again.
Four strides later, I was able to catch myself on the ledge of the building and pull myself to the roof.
Damn, I thought. Last time, it only took me three. I didn't almost hit a window this time, however.
I let my body rest momentarily. My muscles pumped, the blood and unnatural energy pulsing through them simultaneously. My heart pounded beneath my rib cage.
I took a deep breath, almost winded, and sat down to enjoy the view for a few moments. I thought back to my decision on coming out, and how hesitant I was with it.
Sleep was important, but I think I needed this. Besides, what was one day of being tired at work?
I shook my head. I have definitely said that before, and have definitely regretted it each and every time. But, could it be helped?
Again, my thoughts returned to the apparent lack of direction my life was heading in (or not heading in). Work was nice, and it kept my mind and hands busy. It gave me a reason to wake up.
It helped my transition from the seclusion of my prior world, where something was missing. Some purpose, more than just to myself.
My life serving them, serving as Justin Swalch, however, wasn't right either. Something inside me told me that every night. I wasn't sure what. Still not sure. Maybe it was the constant answer to a power I had never met? Maybe it was the lack of understanding of the impact my actions had? I wasn't able to decipher it, but I knew what my feelings told me, and so I ran.
Ever since I escaped, however, I've just been on the run, trying to blend in. Was this any better than before? Was it worse? Before, I had a purpose. I had a defined role in life beyond survival.
It's not worse, I told myself. I knew the decision I was making at the time. I knew its implications. It's not a decision I would have without reasonable cause. Something felt wrong about doing what I was doing. If it was just for myself or for a bigger reason, I don't really know.
The cause was real, though. Of that much, I was certain.
Whatever the case, my life was my own now. Paul Garrison was the name I answered to. My decision didn't come with any chances of going back, so picking it apart now was fruitless. What could I do? Going back offered consequences that I wasn't sure I wanted to imagine.
I shook my head again. No. I needed to continue on for a while longer. The direction my life needed to go would make itself present eventually. Of that much, I had faith. Until then, patience.
As I was picking myself up into a stand, I heard a high scream come from the streets below. Inside me, old instincts began to stir. I fought them for only a second, before deciding what the right thing to do was.
I looked in the direction where the scream had come from, started to a run, and leaped to the rooftop next to me...
Tonight, I wasn't content with the stale atmosphere of my apartment. I couldn't relax with the confinement of these four walls keeping me in. Even the exhilarating mental stimuli created by diving into another's created world through text couldn't hold my restlessness at bay.
There was nothing particularly stressful from the day, except possibly the lack of anything really substantive. This whole week I've felt like I've merely been surviving, and not advancing in any direction. Not that I was entirely sure what direction I would want to advance in, but I seemed O.K. with advancing for the sake of itself.
I sighed, tossed my book to the side, sat up, and examined at my clock, which doubled as a thermometer. 2:43 A.M. 42 degrees Fahrenheit. I looked out my window. Raining. I smiled to myself. Whatever.
I swung myself from my bed, and slipped from my room. Moving slowly through my living room, I eventually found myself in my kitchen. Here, I stopped, and debated heading back to bed, and re-trying this whole sleep thing. I stood there for a moment, staring blatantly into the darkness. Sleep was important. Energy was never a problem. It was the lack of efficiency that came with the garbled, tired mind.
I let the restlessness from the day keep me from my bed, and continued to my front door. Grabbing my favorite pair of running shoes, and a light jacket, I stepped into the rest of the world.
Taking a second to let the cold, wet air settle into my lungs, I began thinking on where I was going. There was no real destination, but I liked to have a general idea of where I wanted to end up. I stared upward, looking for an end to the tall buildings around me, and let my new environment soak in.
It felt quite nice outside. The crisp, cold rain seemed to wash away the stale presence of my apartment. The effect of each cold rain drop stimulated my senses. The dull orange of the street lights reflected off the wet ground. The overall effect was relaxing.
I looked to my right, and gazed downtown, its buildings and streets creating a maze-like structure. It looked as though it could keep one occupied for hours. I saw the occasional set of headlights navigating the streets, but otherwise, it was relatively calm. During the day, it was almost always saturated with individuals moving about at a rushed pace, creating high energy. Something about the lack of people in a usually very populated area sounded inviting, and so my direction was set.
With no more excuses chaining me in place, I took my first stride.
Then the crisp features of the world around me transformed into a blur. Only momentarily, as my eyes quickly adjusted to the new pace.
I kept my gaze forward, as my body propelled me onward. I could feel the blood pumping through my legs as I landed each foot, only to raise it again. My arms drove back and forth, further driving the momentum of my body.
I started out slow. Warming up, I let my body ease into the sudden motion I had put into it. I ran down my block, turned back and made my way to the opposite end, faster now. There I stopped, and steadied my breathing. It felt good, liberating, to let my body use some of its potential motion. My heart rate was just beginning to accelerate, and this helped lighten my mood immensely.
I took off again. This time, unrestrained. I let the unnatural energy that surged within me flow through my muscles. It pulsed through my legs, which carried me back down the block. The speed I was running made my surroundings almost impossible to process.
Almost. But understanding ones surroundings was the key idea. To let a pedestrian, a sign or even a an oncoming car go unnoticed would almost definitely lead to an impact. Impacts are generally undesirable.
Cars particularly so.
Especially knowing that the car would come more damaged then I would.
I reached the end of the block, and quickly turned left, keeping pace.
Right. Left. Left. Left. Right. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.
I continued on for several more blocks picking whatever direction I felt like, letting my body re-familiarize with the energy within me.
At the end of the twelfth (or thirteenth?) block waited a ten story apartment building. Feeling warmed up, I let more of the energy flow through my body, and dead on sprinted, with no intention of turning or slowing.
I always found small humor thinking what it would have looked like to someone who may have been watching. This man, running sporadically through the streets, now sprinting head-on into a building, obviously anticipating a very painful impact.
I'd like to talk to that guy, I thought. Not that it would be a good idea for someone to put a face to this crazy figure, I jested at myself.
About two to three yards from the building, I launched myself into the air, letting my forward momentum push me towards the brick wall.
For me, there was always this stall in the air, where, somehow, time would slow down to let me enjoy the feeling. It felt very free, these few seconds suspended. Gravity seemed, (definitely only seemed) to let its hold off of me. For just these few seconds, I really felt like there were no limitations on where I wanted to go. That the laws of the world didn't really bind me. How could they?
That feeling was always short lived, however. The perceptually made slow motion came to an end when the gravitational force overcame the upward momentum from my jump, and I began to fall. But this, too, was momentary.
I stretched out my right leg, and caught it on the hard stone of the wall and immediately pushed down. The friction caused by the force of my foot pushing on the rough surface of the brick kept me from sliding downwards, and so the only way that was left to go was up. My body ascended vertically very quickly for a second, before gravity again began to overcome. As the upward momentum began to decrease, I caught my other foot on the wall and pushed myself up again.
Four strides later, I was able to catch myself on the ledge of the building and pull myself to the roof.
Damn, I thought. Last time, it only took me three. I didn't almost hit a window this time, however.
I let my body rest momentarily. My muscles pumped, the blood and unnatural energy pulsing through them simultaneously. My heart pounded beneath my rib cage.
I took a deep breath, almost winded, and sat down to enjoy the view for a few moments. I thought back to my decision on coming out, and how hesitant I was with it.
Sleep was important, but I think I needed this. Besides, what was one day of being tired at work?
I shook my head. I have definitely said that before, and have definitely regretted it each and every time. But, could it be helped?
Again, my thoughts returned to the apparent lack of direction my life was heading in (or not heading in). Work was nice, and it kept my mind and hands busy. It gave me a reason to wake up.
It helped my transition from the seclusion of my prior world, where something was missing. Some purpose, more than just to myself.
My life serving them, serving as Justin Swalch, however, wasn't right either. Something inside me told me that every night. I wasn't sure what. Still not sure. Maybe it was the constant answer to a power I had never met? Maybe it was the lack of understanding of the impact my actions had? I wasn't able to decipher it, but I knew what my feelings told me, and so I ran.
Ever since I escaped, however, I've just been on the run, trying to blend in. Was this any better than before? Was it worse? Before, I had a purpose. I had a defined role in life beyond survival.
It's not worse, I told myself. I knew the decision I was making at the time. I knew its implications. It's not a decision I would have without reasonable cause. Something felt wrong about doing what I was doing. If it was just for myself or for a bigger reason, I don't really know.
The cause was real, though. Of that much, I was certain.
Whatever the case, my life was my own now. Paul Garrison was the name I answered to. My decision didn't come with any chances of going back, so picking it apart now was fruitless. What could I do? Going back offered consequences that I wasn't sure I wanted to imagine.
I shook my head again. No. I needed to continue on for a while longer. The direction my life needed to go would make itself present eventually. Of that much, I had faith. Until then, patience.
As I was picking myself up into a stand, I heard a high scream come from the streets below. Inside me, old instincts began to stir. I fought them for only a second, before deciding what the right thing to do was.
I looked in the direction where the scream had come from, started to a run, and leaped to the rooftop next to me...
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