I lift my head to look down at my lifeless body. There’s a blinding light blaring into my eyes as I rest my head back down laying on something cold. How long have I been here on this table? Days? Months? Years? Questions fade in and out as do my consciousness. I hear my heart beating in my ears and faint whispers around me. Who are they? “Please,” a voice barely I can hear, “help me.” I hear the people around me, “He’s awake! Put him back under.” Then my mind grows quiet. I shouldn’t have told anyone about the voices in my mind. The one’s that told me the world’s secrets, its treasures, untold history. What began with silly coincidental thoughts turned to my reality. Now I trust that voice and it tells me I’m not safe anymore.