The voice reaches into her consciousness. A response is required. She nods. Her mind has questions, too. Do you not realize I nod to avoid you? Do you not realize I am not at this moment fully aware of where I am or who you are or what is happening? Do you not see the resignation in the nod of my head?
Her mind reaches back, searching, looking for hidden, shrouded answers. She remembers the sound of the gong. The catapulting of the senses into a forgotten time–at least she thought it was forgotten. Where was she? What was happening coinciding with the gong sound? Emotions wash over her body, making it recoil, get ready to run–no bolt–from a perceived danger. But what danger? When? Where? What was her mind trying to remember even as it tried to shield her from remembering?
The stillness surrounds her–right now. The voice that questioned her has been absorbed into the sterile surroundings it came from. It has no feeling, no intonation, robotic. Hence, it only requires the “nod” in response. All nerves are tingling, responding, waiting for the energy surrounding her to declare itself and allow her to shield from it or welcome it.
Her mind reaches back once more to the tinkling sound of a tiny bell being rung by two fingers. It was the signal the “mindfulness” exercise was over–a return to the study of reality. Now, in a grating and rasping way, the tinkle of the little bell, the word “mindfulness,” and a deliberate observation lacking in speculation or sense of awe–make the process of sound, action, observance repulsive to her mind and one to be avoided. Is it the sounds that trigger her mind and body or the feelings associated with the sounds?
The voice reaches in to her consciousness once more. “Here are your options…” the voice methodically drones on. Her mind does not hear or take the voice, nor its options, in. Already her mind is peeking around corners, trying to connect sounds with places, people, events–so it can concentrate on what is truly important to her life–not options that seem irrelevant now. As from a distance, she hears the question in the voice once more. She nods–again. Why do you not leave me alone? Why do you ask me questions I will not answer? Cannot answer? Have no desire to answer? I am searching within for my own answers–not answers to your questions. Can you help me find the answers to those questions? Stop listing things! Stop intruding into my thoughts!
She feels herself lifting. She does not look around. Gongs, bells, horns, sirens, a shrill cacophony ensue. Her head feels ready to explode! Still, the body is lifting, vibrating, pulsating with feeling and an untouchable mystery of emotions and feelings. Her heart races. Her breathing is almost non-existent. She looks toward a movement to the side of her. One quick, deep breath. Maybe the answers are coming! The memories unveiled! The body lifts higher.
She nods. So this is what they call alien abduction. I’ll have to ask about this, too. She nods to herself.