Beneath an old, withered, and desiccated pinyon pine tree that once lived atop the cliff face on the southern slope of a not so tall mountain, is a particular book that can only be read during the third twilight after the fifth full moon. It was written for the select few who were prepared to live after dying and was filled with predictions of the past and facts from the future. The ink had not dried over the countless years, despite the desert heat and dry air, and was written in a language that had never been heard. It was a book of truths and a book of lies that rambled about the most profound insanities. Tucked beneath that old, withered, and desiccated pinyon pine tree was a weathered book filled with final words and at the end signed John Foster.

***

  The cool floor on my back reminds me of the chill you feel through a snowsuit when making snow angels as a child, just without the bite. I don’t know why, but the firm cement-like floor beneath me is oddly comfortable.

  “John, John, can you hear me?”

  The man above me is wearing a blue uniform with a white badge on his left shoulder. I know this badge; I’ve seen it many times before. The Star of Life, either he’s dressing up for some costume party or he’s a paramedic.

  “Where am I?”

  I managed to blurt out a question despite my swollen tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. He didn’t give me a strange look, so I guess he was able to understand me, even though I’m not sure I understand me.

  “You’re in the theater John. Hey John, come on, stay with me here buddy, keep your eyes open.”

  That’s right, I came here to see “Invasion”, that new Hollywood blockbuster alien movie. But where was I just now? Was that a dream? Or am I confusing something in my memory from the movie? I try to keep my eyes open, but I feel so tired. It’s just so hard to stay awake.

  “What happened? Why am I on the ground?”

  “You had a seizure, John. We need to bring you to the hospital.”

  That explains why I feel so tired. I try to get up but the muscles in my abdomen feel as though they’ve torn and there is something wrong with my left leg. I can’t move it, and when I try the pain is almost unbearable.

  “John stay still. Your leg was stuck below the chair in front of you and you injured it during the seizure. Just relax, we’ll get you on a gurney soon.”

  I’ve had seizures since I was 16, half my life now. I’ll never forget the summer I had my first one. I had been working in a hotel, real sweatshop hours from 8 am until midnight. It was a job taking care of kids as a counselor, honestly, though I liked the job. I just played dodgeball and went swimming while getting paid for it.  

  The pay was terrible, they were able to use some tips loophole to get away with not paying minimum wage. But most of the people I worked with were friends from high school, so it wasn't too bad. Most of the time it just felt like I was hanging out with friends all day.

  Unfortunately, exhaustion caught up with me. I had been working for almost three weeks with no time off. I lost a lot of weight and was probably dehydrated really bad. Then that night I had my first seizure right there in the hotel. Had a second in the hospital. Lasted almost six minutes, from what I remember the doctors didn’t think I was gonna make it through that.

  But it’s been ages since I’ve had the last one. Must be at least 10 years now, ever since I got medicated by that neurologist I started seeing in college.

  “Dave, I’m gonna need you to give me a hand rolling him over.”

  It feels like my shoulders didn’t fare too well either. Damn things, they always seem to dislocate and pop back in when I have a seizure. Judging how sore my body feels already I’d say I’ve torn quite a few muscles because of this.

  These guys are really having a hard time moving me. I kinda feel like some animal carcass being loaded up in the back of a truck. I’m larger than most people at 6’2”, but should they really be having such a hard time moving me?

  “John, John open your eyes buddy. We’re gonna load you into the ambulance so you’ll feel a little bit of rocking.”

  When did we get here? Did I fall asleep or something? I was having the strangest dream. But it didn’t really feel like a dream, almost like they’re just old memories I blocked out from childhood seeping back into my mind.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “We’re going to Saint Peter's. We should be there in about 5 minutes. Hold tight pal.”

  Saint Peters Hospital, a Catholic hospital, I think I’ve been there before. That was probably almost a year ago, though, when I first moved out here.  I remember I slipped and fell down a flight of stairs. I hit my head and they decided to keep me there to observe my condition for a few days.

  I ended up in the pediatric ward due to space issues, but it wasn’t too bad. I had my own room, the nurses were friendly, and I was able to watch many of the movies I had grown up with.

  “Alright John, we’re going to bring you down. Dave, Mark, grab a side and be careful, he’s heavy. One, two, three, lift!”

  I didn’t think the way everything looked could get more comical until the gurney collapsed when they brought me down. It was like some comedy bit by the Three Stooges. This is probably what it would be like if Lucille Ball from "I Love Lucy" became a paramedic.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  That little drop caused a sharp pain to fire in my left leg and made me think that maybe these guys work for the mob, they might be here to take out my kneecaps. It’s not like I’m in any position to complain, but I wish they weren’t in such a rush and were a bit more careful.

  “Sorry about that John, we’re here though, and they’re going to take good care of you.”

  After they wheeled me into a hallway, that I assume is a part of the emergency room, the moved me to a hospital bed and I thanked them to the best of my ability before they left. It’s kind of hard to talk right now though. My tongue is really swollen, and every time I say a word with a T in it I end up biting it again.

  I wish I could close my eyes and fall asleep but the lights are so bright it feels like they're going to burn a hole through my eyelids. Every time I feel like I might drift off, a nurse comes over. Poking and prodding or asking me questions I don’t care to answer.

  They’re all pretty, young Filipina girls. I remember last time I was here one of them told me there was a program that helped nurses from the Philippines enter the U.S. Now that I think about it the Philippines was once a colony so it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.

  They’re hooking me up to all manner of wires and cables that connect to an instrument that looks a lot like the robot from those Short Circuit movies. Each time they place one of those sticky pads on my chest they apologize. They know how painful it’s going to be when I rip it off and take a bunch of hair with it. She must have also taken at least ten tubes of blood by now.

  “Hello Mr. Foster, I’m Dr. Joyce. It looks like you had a seizure and injured your left knee. You also have a large bump on your head. Do you have a history of seizures?”

  She’s young, probably younger than me, and cute. But then again most people here are good looking. It’s like everyone in Los Angeles is a part-time model. I wouldn’t be surprised if her business card was a headshot and a list of her social media addresses.

  “Yes, I’ve had them since I was 16, but it’s been years since my last one.”

  Struggling to get the words out I ended up biting my tongue a few more times as I answered her. I probably sound like I have some type of speech disability.

  “Do you take any medications for your seizures, Mr. Foster?”

  I tell her the medications I take, the dose and the frequency. It hasn’t changed much in ten years, but there was that period of time in college where it felt like my dosage was going up on a monthly basis.

  “And have you been taking your medications, Mr. Foster?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “Ok, well, we’re going to check your levels just to get an idea of where we are with that. I’m also going to order some x-rays on that leg and I want to get a CT scan for your head. Do you have any family we can contact or maybe an emergency contact we can get a hold of for you?”

  “No, I don’t”

  I have a family but they’re back east in New York. The last thing I need right now is them worrying about me being out here alone or them telling me I shouldn’t have left, come back, or I told you so. It’s just a seizure, if it wasn’t for the fact that I was in public and injured my leg I wouldn’t have come to the hospital. There were times when I had seizures and I didn’t.

  “Is that so? Is there anything else bothering you, do you have pain anywhere else?”

  “Just the normal seizure soreness, shoulders, tongue.”

  “Well, for now just rest here. I’ll order the exams, and we should know more shortly. Do you need anything?”

  She places her hand on my right thigh and stares into my eyes, looking more concerned than she probably is. This confirms it. She’s probably an actress that couldn’t cut it in the Novellas. Maybe she had a doctor role and one day decided, “You know, this doctor stuff seems fun, maybe I’ll become one.”

  That was kind of mean, I shouldn’t think like that, besides, she seems really nice.

  “Can I have something to drink? My mouth is really dry.”

  “I’ll tell the nurse to bring you a cup of water when she comes back.”

  The nurse came over not long after she left and took even more blood. Isn’t there some kind of limit they can take? Afterwards, I was disconnected from Johnny 5 and wheeled off. He didn’t like the electrodes coming off and went into a beeping frenzy before the nurse turned him off.

  While I was thinking about all the hair that was sure to come off of my chest, we finally made it to a small, bright, all white room with a large CT scanner near the back wall. A few nurses lifted me up onto the bed and placed a wide strap somewhat loosely around my arms and abdomen. They probably don’t want me to roll out when they stick my head in that tube.

  “Alright John, we’re gonna need you to stay very still during the exam. Just close your eyes and relax, this will only take a couple of minutes.”

  I close my eyes and as the bed I’m lying on slowly slides into the tube, the events from the day play in my mind like an old movie. I woke up this morning late, around 10 am and had breakfast at the little diner downstairs. After that, I went online and applied for a few jobs. Living in L.A. is expensive, and the job market is pretty competitive.

  After applying for a few jobs that caught my interest, I surfed videos on the web for a while until I came across the trailer for the new Sci-Fi movie “Invasion.” The movie had terrible reviews but everyone agreed that the special effects were amazing. I figured if the effects were that good it was worth the discounted ticket price of an early afternoon show.

  I remember the start of the movie, Washington D.C. was under attack by some spider-like robots that were piloted by the aliens, but what happened after that? I think, maybe there was a… I don’t remember, wait… did I… wait… somethings wrong. I know this feeling. I know this.

  “John, we need you to hold still.”

  “I, I can’t. I can’t. I’m having, I’m, I’m having an aura.”

  I know this feeling. It’s an aura. I get these sometimes before I have a seizure, like a little warning signal saying brace yourself, things are about to fall apart. It’s always the same. My mind gets fuzzy, my eyes roll back, and my head starts shaking like I can’t stop saying no. I know what’s going to happen next.

  “Stop the test, bring him back out and unstrap him. John fight it, keep fighting it, John. We need a nurse in here.”

  Fight it; I want to fight it. I don’t want to have another seizure. They’re painful. They’re always so painful. But I’m tired and it’s not so easy. I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop it. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe… maybe I can just let go…

***

  The scene in front of me changed from a brightly lit white room to something that makes no sense. There are rugged, brown mountains in the background and a strong scent from the pine trees sparsely spread about around me. The sky is a greenish-blue like the Caribbean Sea with pillow-like clouds racing by rapidly.

  “Hanus what are ya doing?! Estia loose your arrow now! Trisben to yer left, there’s another to yer left!”

  What? Who is this guy, and what is he yelling about?

  “Hanus ya bastard pull it together! Hit that damn thing with a fireball.”

  In front of me is the largest black bear like thing I’ve ever seen. It’s a bear, but it’s not a bear. Honestly, I don’t know what it’s supposed to be. It must be at least twice as large as any elephant I’ve seen in the zoo, and it has tusks like one also. This must be some kind of a dream right? What the hell is that thing?

  “Now Hanus! What are ya waiting for?! Hit it with a fireball before it gets any closer!”

  What the hell is this old coot yelling about, and why is he calling me Hanus? Fireball? Where am I supposed to get a fireball? Does he have some kind of flamethrower or something? What the hell is going on and where am I?