Penumbra

It’s rather awkward to wake up to the realization that you aren’t sure if you’re awake.
     Half-existent, she slowly rose up from the ground that she assumed that she had been sleeping on. The ground was gray. It couldn’t be said whether it was hard or soft, rough or smooth, or even bright or dull; only that it existed, and she knew this only because she wasn’t floating or falling. As she balanced herself on her feet, it supported her weight, but she couldn’t say whether it was hard or if it was soft. You might be able to say that she was drifting, though, as even though she felt like she was walking forward, there were no objects or landmarks to prove that she was moving anywhere.
     Above her, the sky was a silent, muted purple. It loomed over her, offering her no help in her confused state. At the same time, it seemed to assure her that it was alright to be confused, because there was nothing to worry about in that land of nothingness.
     It occurred to her that she wasn’t really afraid, though she figured that she ought to be, considering the circumstances. She found that the only emotion that she was permitted was a light, dizzy sense of confusion. Fear, anxiety, happiness, sadness, and any other emotion seemed to be blotted from her mind, like every other thought. She found herself unable to be sure of anything, except for the inability to be sure.
     “Is this real?” she asked aloud to nobody in particular, seeing as how there didn’t seem to be anybody in particular to talk to. She couldn’t tell if the world around her was realistic or unrealistic.
     “Could be,” something that may have been a voice answered.
     “It could be real? That’s confusing.”
     “This is a good place to be confused in.”
     “Why’s that?”
     “Because this is confusion.”
     She blinked and scratched her head. She was in confusion? The idea in itself was confusing. She was confused, sure, but that didn’t mean that she was in a place called Confusion, if that’s even what the could-be voice meant.
     “That doesn’t quite make sense, if you don’t mind my saying,” she replied curtly. “I’m not so sure I can believe that.”
     “Of course you can’t. You can’t be sure of anything while you’re here.”
     “You know, come to think of it, I’m not even sure how I’m talking to you, or if I am talking to you. Maybe I’m talking to myself. Where are you?”
     “Everywhere. Nowhere. I’m probably not something you can say “you” to and end up referring to what I am, though.”
     “What do you mean?”
     “I’m you. I’m me. I’m everything that you already are, but everything that you wish you were, and maybe what you’re glad you aren’t.”
     “I don’t understand.”
     “Of course you don’t. If you understood, then you wouldn’t be talking to me anymore, now would you?”
     “Why would that be?”
     “The moment you’re able to grasp onto something solid and believe it, then you won’t be in confusion anymore. This is confusion.”
     “I’m confused. I guess I can expect that much, though. How did I get here?”
     “Who knows? You might be waking up, and you’re at the point where you haven’t remembered what sleeping is. You might be between dreaming and waking, where you have to switch from your dream world to the world of men, and you aren’t sure which is which yet. You might have just stopped reading a story, and you have to remember that you’re not part of it. You might be daydreaming about someone you love, and haven’t realized yet that he isn’t there anymore. You might have just taken an artistic photograph and have just moved away from the eyepiece, and you haven’t yet realized that the world isn’t split into thirds and doesn’t have a black framing. The possibilities are endless.”
     “Well, I have no idea about any of that. How do I get out of here?”
     “I already told you. You have to believe something.”
     “Hm. I don’t really know that I want to leave, anyway. It seems nice here.”
     “Why do you say that? You have nothing to be sure of. Nothing to hold onto. You don’t even know if you exist.”
     “Maybe, but at least there’s nothing to worry about. I feel at ease here.”
     “Are you sure?”
     “Well, yeah. I mean, what do I have to worry-”
     Suddenly, the muted color of the sky gave way to the rich purple of her painted ceiling of her bedroom. She remembered suddenly that she needed to get up and go to school soon, and that she’d slept in a little, so she would need to hurry and get into the shower before her little brother beat her to it. She also remembered that her boyfriend had broken up with her last week, that her car had been towed yesterday because she’d left it in the street for too long, and that she didn’t have to work today because she’d asked for the day off for her mother’s birthday, and that she would need to make a cake for her after school. She had no recollection of the muted purple sky.