08
What happened next was a blur. My mind drifted in and out of a suspended reality. Was this happening? Was this part of my journey back towards sea? Had I drowned? Were these men the pilots from flight MH 127?
When I came to, I was sitting in a hospital bed and a woman in a white lab coat sat on a chair to my left.
“Mr. Nyāya? Can you tell me your name, please?”
“Sultan.”
“Yes, that’s very good, Sultan. You are Sultan Nyāya. You had a little stumble, a bit of an episode if you will, but you are safe now, Sultan. We are here to help you.”
My eyes were locked on the blues of the lady’s eyes but I couldn’t see her. All I could see were her eyes. Where were the nebulas? A river of emptiness flowed through my mind flooding my head. I looked towards a window on the far side of the room and saw that it had been boarded with some type of dark material. I reached behind my pillow for my journal and felt only cloth fabric. I turned onto my stomach and pressed my face into the pillow, blocking the artificial light from blinding me and saw darkness. I then closed my eyes and just saw more of the same.