Jimmy Ferrer

I did the last thing I could do.

Keep counting.

One thousand three.

I was back in my shower, vomiting violently.

The water just as cold as when I first breathed it.

I was still choking but did everything I could to express the water from my lungs and stomach.

It felt like minutes before I got my first breath of air.

I continued to spit up water and lay on the bathroom floor, the warm water of my shower flowing over me.

It was when I was finally recovering that I heard it.

Laughter.

Laughter.

It was familiar and uncomfortable, like those laughs that they plug in every few minutes in a sitcom to try to establish whatever was just said was funny.

I looked up to see a whole movie theater's worth of a black and white film grain crowd pointing and laughing at me.

I gasped through my coughs and choking.

I immediately ripped a towel into the shower to cover myself, to which the crowd fell into an uproar of laughter, some even clapping.

It was like I was the subject on a movie screen.

I got into my clothes without drying myself off and felt so violated.

These colorless humans watching my every move, entertained by my horror.

They would smile and laugh, but there was nothing behind their eyes.

As empty and black as the ocean, I almost drowned in.