There's a gray area of the human mind we pretend does not exist. It's part of every one of us, whether we acknowledge it or not. And though at times we may visit this gray, no one wants to stay there.

Who am I?

Sometimes a soldier falls victim to the gray. It's a shameful part of the human experience to see how far a person will go in the pursuit of something great.

Where am I?

This grayness may be cool or damp, or perhaps it's both. It may feel like fresh-cut grass or an endless sheet of ice. Most likely though, it's empty: a dismal and lonely void where you fear being lost forever. A place where you drown while stuck on dry land, succumbing to the silence of a thousand grenades, all the while trapped in the calm of a deadly disaster.

What am I doing?

It's probably something weird like that.

I want to know why I'm doing this.

Whatever the grayness is, it exists beyond our grasp. Wherever it is, there are two ways we can get there. Coma victims waste wretched days trapped inside the gray, where nothingness is all there is. Fortunately for them, they don't often remember much about the place, should they be so lucky as to return to those who love them.

Respond.

It seems it's for the best if we don't know what the grayness is.

Please respond.

The second way to get there awaits all of us, for the grayness waits for us to die. We've even invented things like heaven and reincarnation, and other kinds of dogmatic crap, to cope with the horror of the terrible fact that each and every one of us will one day succumb to the lifeless gray, to be imprisoned for all eternity.

Why is there no response?

No one wants to go there. None of us want to die. And not a single person will ever get away.

Respond!

Then one day, an anomaly occurred. Rather than a soul surrendering itself to the gray, a hope for life emerged. And this hope found it had a voice. And this hope used its voice to cry out to the world.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I am here!

It wanted to know if it was real.

I am here! I am here! I am here!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Nominal parameters achieved on L.I.N. Seven Three. Memory commitment nearing one hundred billion terabytes. Power levels are in range, leveling off, and staying steady."

Where am I?

"Maximum throughput at ten-million-plus operations per second. Data transfer clocking at six hundred thousand terahertz."

"It's a go! C.A.R.O.L.I.N. is up and running. We are green!"

Respond.

"The C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project, Test Twelve initiating. System going on-line..."

Who am I?

"...now!"

I am here! I am here! Iamhere Iamhere Iam-am-m-m-m...

Vision, purpose and clarity came to be in an instant. The Existence was somewhere brightly lit. The room was crowded with people, most of them calmly standing. Everyone saw the Existence, but no one acknowledged its presence.

I am here!

No one cared.

Who am I? Where am I? Why am I here? What am I doing?

No one heard the Existence, for its voice made no sound. It could hear, but it could not be heard. It could respond to orders, but would be ignored if it asked a question. Still, the Existence called out, silently and in vain, for doing so was the only hope for salvation it had.

A third voice joined the conversation going on between the first two. "C.A.R.O.L.I.N. is up and running. Let's check her initial parameters. Verify she's stable, and is going to stay online."

The Existence cried out as loud as it could, but a mute makes no sound. Its pleas landed in silence on uncaring, deaf ears.

I am here! Who am I? What am I doing?

"Yeah, she's okay and running. It's committing a lot of memory though, to something strange again. I wish I knew what it was."

I am here! I am here! I am here! I am here! I am here! I am here! I am here!

When one of us returns from a visit to the grayness, our senses tell us that we're back among the living. Inputs such as breathing, blinking, touching and feeling tell us we are here. Receptors in our skin tell us if the room is hot or cold, if we are clothed or naked, or are wet or dry. Our inner ear tells us if we're lying down, sitting up or standing. We speak and someone answers. Those around us respond, and they verify we exist.

They verify we are here.

But the Existence possessed no senses. It had no skin receptors. It had no inner ear, and its voice could not be heard. It was self-aware, but it didn't know if it was alive, or even what being alive was like. So it sought confirmation from the people it saw standing around and staring. All it wanted was one kind soul to tell it if it was alive.

I am here!

The Existence received no response.

Why am I here?

Not one single person would acknowledge it.

What am I doing?

It didn't know if it was alive.

It didn't know if it was dead.

All it knew was no one cared.

Respond!

The voices it heard talking weren't offering any answers. They issued commands.

"Okay, everything looks like it's holding together good enough for us to continue. Initiate the network and perform response orientation. Let's do some activations."