[ WP ] Whenever the protagonist blinks , they are sent into an alternate reality .

“ Do you know why you ’ re here? ” I could hear her scrawl something down on a clipboard, her ballpoint pen making a loud, clicking noise whenever it made contact with the paper. After a long, drawn out silence, “ Your wife said you ’ ve refused to open your eyes for the last few days? ” 
 
 A faint waft of perfume swirled about my head, and I turned to face the source of the scent. “ Nothing wrong with stopping to smell the… ” I sniffed the air a bit. “ … lilacs, doctor. ” 
 
 I could hear her shuffle about in her seat, the rustle of clothing breaking the eerie silence of the small room. “ She said you were crying when this first happened. Why was that? ” 
 
 “ How are the children, Dr. Lane? ” 
 
 I could hear her set her pen down against her clipboard at the question. “ … did I tell you I had children? ” She paused. “ I don ’ t even recall telling you my name. ” 
 
 I smiled at that. “ I was somewhat worried that those details would have changed. Glad to see there ’ s some consistency. ” I shifted up into a sitting position, listening to the slight crinkle of the paper bed cover. “ We ’ ve met before… in some fashion. ” 
 
 I could hear her resume her writing. “ Can you describe to me the circumstances? ” 
 
 I reached out a hand, and groped about until I could feel the padding of a nearby wall. “ A different room, though, ” I muttered, running a finger along a seam. 
 
 “ Have you been… referred to this hospital before? ” 
 
 “ Committed, Doctor. ” I let out a low chuckle, as I continued to explore the stitching. “ A few days ago, actually. We spoke about your daughter ’ s spring training? ” 
 
 “ It ’ s… fall, Mr. Den, and I have two sons. ” 
 
 “ My mistake. Congratulations, though. Your husband always wanted a son, right? ” I could feel her discomfort at that statement. “ I know, these are fairly easy things to say. It ’ s a shame the smaller details normally don ’ t stick. ” 
 
 “ Do you enjo- “ 
 
 “ You were born on March 23, 1973, your favorite color is green, and you drive a hatchback, but you really want an SUV. Maybe once the furlough is over, you and your husband could look into upgrading, but for now, the mileage on the current car saves you quite a bit on gas, which is important, because you still live about 20 minutes outside of the city proper. ” 
 
 “ … Blue. ” I could hear her slowly slide her chair back, the metal legs scraping against the tiled floor. “ H-how? ” 
 
 “ You told me. Or, you would ’ ve told me. Or you did. ” I shrugged. “ I ’ m assuming she told you what I said to her. ” 
 
 Another long pause settled in the room. She tapped the tip of her pen against her clipboard, a light, repetitive pattern, as though deep in thought. “ What happens when you open your eyes, Mr. Den? ” 
 
 I felt my voice catch in my throat, and awkwardly motioned for a cup of water. I felt her press a paper cup of lukewarm water into my hand, and I quickly downed the contents. 
 
 “ Take your time, Brian. ” 
 
 I laughed at that. “ If I mess up, I can always just blink. ” The harsh lighting in the room made it harder to keep my eyes closed, but I soldiered on, absently rubbing at them. “ We were in the car, when it happened. I was dozing off at the wheel… we were both tired. I… When I saw the lights, it was too late. ” I motioned for another cup. “ We were hit in the driver ’ s side. When I came to, I thought that at least it wasn ’ t the passenger side, but when I looked over, I… ” 
 
 “ What did you see, Brian? ” 
 
 “ … She looked so… peaceful. There was barely any blood on her face. It just looked like she was sleeping. But… I knew that she wasn ’ t just asleep, that… I started to cry, and I reached out to touch her face, but… I heard her asking me what was wrong. I wiped away the tears, and there she was, staring back quizzically at me. ” I could feel the tears welling up. “ I was so… confused at that moment, and I reached out to hug her. ” 
 
 For a few moments, only the sound of pen scratches filled the room. 
 
 “ … When I pulled away from her, she was… she was dead, and I just… ” I shook my head, clutching at the side of my face, as I felt another migraine begin to develop. “ The next few days… it was like a nightmare. She would be there, idly talking about her day, I ’ d be there, a drink in hand, I would go for a walk, I ’ d be at her funeral, the two of us would just be visiting her father ’ s grave, I would talk to a lawyer about her will, we ’ d be talking to a lawyer about the reckless driving charges, I would… ” I could feel my head pulse, a line of needles stabbing away along the side of my face, and struggled to rein the migraine in. “ It ’ s all so muddled, Doctor. Every single time I close my eyes… I would look around, and it… I just… it ’ s different. ” 
 
 “ You taped your eyes shut yesterday. ” 
 
 “ I… I thought I lost her, for a time. It kept… changing, until I hit a patch where… no matter how often I blinked, she just wasn ’ t there anymore. Months would pass, or they wouldn ’ t. Friends would come and go, or I would run into them, or whatever. I would have the same conversation with a clerk, and know what they would say, or not. It just… ” I clutched at my head with both hands, pressing my palms against my eyes as my world began to swirl. “ Please, dim the lights. ” 
 
 “ What happened, Mr. Den? ” 
 
 Though my eyes were closed, I knew the lighting had been dimmed a bit, and relaxed the pressure against my eyes. “ I was lying there, staring at her picture. Sometimes it wasn ’ t her, sometimes it was me, sometimes it was something else, but I knew that it was a picture of her. I stared at it, and just… kept blinking. The days would pass, but I just… I knew it had something to do with the blinking. And then, one day… there she was. ” I used the front of my gown to wipe at my face. “ I saw her laying there, chest softly rising, falling, rising, falling, and I was just so… I leaned in to kiss her, and I… I… ” 
 
 “ Go on, Brian, ” she whispered softly. I could feel her shift a bit closer, her hand resting gently, comfortingly, on my knee. 
 
 “ … I closed my eyes. I… I closed my eyes, doc...'' 
 
 -- -- - -- -- - -- - 
 
 AN: Edited a typo out. D:
