At this point the anticipation had become overwhelming, the thought of being here became terrifying. The fear was like being stuck in a small space, but I had all the room in the world, maybe even a world of my own making. As my fear increased the more the endless nothing seemed to dance and slide threw the air, the mist turned to ash, the ash to dust and the dust to nothing. I felt the presence of another, but there was no one, I heard the sound of breathing from somewhere else, but to close to make sense. The howling of the wind increased as my body began to burn, no fire, just heat. A vision of a misty shape appeared in my eyes, a mark or totem. My eyes turned black, my body fell cold and empty. As if the warmth had drained like it had on that table.
That table? Where was I? How did I get there? I thought and thought, but I had no idea, i went further back, but nothing. What was my name? Where had i lived? All i could see was my mother's face in her casket as we lowered her into the water. Who was with me family, friends, maybe I was alone. Who, or what am I? Where did I come from?
I focused on reality, on what I knew. My mother had died. I focused on that, I felt sad, the urging tug on my heart to cry, but nothing. I concentrated harder. I closed my eyes. To scared to open them. The wind stopped, the sound of leaves and people filled the air. I slowly opened them to see I had moved to the alley my mother had died in. The same as before, the same feeling. The same endless cold.