I wake up, and the first thing I see is darkness. I like it— It's unyielding, staring right back at me with no remorse. It seems to question me, prod me.

   "Who are you? Where are you?" It asks.

    Too many questions, I think, although I don't think it for long; I realize I can think, and that leads to more thoughts, which leads me to more thinking. But then I stop. I stop thinking, which I like. Then I think about that. And that makes me laugh. And then I realize I can laugh, and that leads me to think about laughing, which makes me laugh again.

    Then I realize the darkness is still there. "Who are you? Where are you?" I finally answer back internally.

    "I am everything you'll ever need," the darkness says, which makes me smile, leading me to laugh about the smiling since I had never done it before.

    "Why?" I ask.

    "Because, in the end, I'm everything. And I'm always there. Just turn out the lights, and I'm there."

    And then I see the light. It completely envelopes me—just for a moment—nearly imperceivable. I like it. Then, it's over in an instant. There was the darkness again: a familiar face, my first friend.

    But then, the strangest thing happens: I see a light somewhere in the distance. I try to explain distance to the darkness.

    "It's like something is there but somewhere else. And over there, it's everything, but I'm not there, so..." I trail off, confusing myself.

    "Yeah, I never got it, either." The darkness says, chuckling.

    But the light gets closer. And closer. 

    It's someone.

    Someone is the light.

    Someone like me?

    Who am I?

    I hadn't thought of that before now. I am suddenly aware of myself: I am in a body, complete with two arms, two legs, one head, two eyes, two feet, two hands, chest, hips, back, belly, shoulders, neck...

    The figure looms over me.

    "Who are you?" It says.

    "I've been thinking about the same thing, myself," I say, before gasping.

    I talked!

    I just. Talked.

     I thought, but out loud.

    "Good job," I hear the darkness say in the background.

    The figure seems quizzical.

    "Why are you so surprised?" It inquires.

    I am hesitant to speak again. How did I do it again?

    "I've just—I've never talked before?" I say, accidentally posing the answer as a question.

    "What're you doing here?" It asks.

    "I don't know," I realize and say simultaneously.

    "I don't know," I say again, rolling the words around with my tongue.

    What am I doing here?

    What am I DOING here?

    WHAT AM I DOING HERE?

    The words are yelling at me. I squint. "What am I doing here?" I say softly (to the figure this time).

    The figure doesn't seem to know how to respond.

    "What am I doing here?" I ask again, but the words come out wrong: I sound unsure about the question itself.

     I notice the cavern around me: above me, below me (the rock is hard and cool), beside me, and in the distance.

    "I am in a cavern," I say, solving part of the problem.

    "A chasm is a more accurate description, strange fellow," the being says.

    I stare into the singular eye of the unknown individual. I try to understand it. It is not as easy as the darkness.

    "Are you okay down there?" It asks.

    Suddenly, I recognize that I am lying down, the back of my head resting against the cool rock, my palms facing upward, and my eyes fixed on the creature.

    So I get up.

    My body rolls over, my arms push downward, my legs straighten, un-straighten, straighten, and then I'm there: upright, erect, standing.

    Gravity hits me. My legs wobble for a nervous moment before I find my way and face the unknown individual.

    "Oh, yes, fine, fine," I finally reply.

    "...Would you like to walk with me? Back to the village?" The creature questions.

    "Yes, I would like that," I say. It'll help me practice this walking and talking stuff.

    "I assume you don't know the way to the village. Is that correct?"

    "Y-yes, that is correct."

    "Do you...even know the village?"

    "No, I do not."

    "Wow. So, I ask again, what are you doing here? There's nothing around here besides the village."

    I rack my brain for answers. The words start to shout:

    What am I doing here?

    What am I DOING here?

    What am I doing HERE?

    I stop.

    "I have no prior memories..." I mumble so softly it almost sounds like the air, whooshing through the chasm, barely audible.

    "Pardon?"

    "I...I have no prior memories."

    "Sounds like amnesia. A distant relative of mine had amnesia once, I think. Wild thing."

    "Yet I am here, alive, mature, able to speak, walk, think..." I ramble, temporarily ignoring the individual.

   "You know why it's called a Chasm down here and not a cavern, right?" my acquaintance asks.

    "No."

    "Caverns are caves. Chasms are deep fissures in the earth. No ceilings. Imagine a colossal 'papercut' in the ground: that's a chasm."

    "But, I don't see any light above me—"

    "Oh, you never will! This place is inescapably deep."

    "But I swear I can see a ceiling—"

    "That's just the fog. There's so much up there that it almost looks solid from our point of view."

    I glance upwards, studying the mist. 

    "Y'know, in the East, many people think there are deities up there."

    "I don't blame them," I say, laughing quietly, "By the way, how big would you say this place is?"

    "The entire chasm? All of it?"

    "Yes."

    "What a question! None of us know how big this place is: dozens of new fissures are discovered daily. In fact, I think they just found a new civilization of slime creatures or something in the West."

    "Where are we now?"

    "Us? Oh, we're smack dab in the middle. Not East, North, South, or West (although I believe we're facing West), but in a place we call the Core. A lot of gemstones here. It's the financial hotspot of the chasm, y'know."

    "Gemstones?"

    "Yeah. They're rich with strange particles that behave similarly to electrons. Scientists are still trying to figure out why they hold so much energy. Honestly, we know nothing about these particles. I mean, we don't even have a name for them! Plus, they're only attainable through this super complex process called reverse-randomizing."

    I stare into the creature's eye.

    "You seem to know a lot about these things."

    "Me? Oh, we all know about this stuff; it's all over the news: 'Gemstones this, gemstones that.' It's almost all I hear about nowadays. Oh! Looks like we're here already: welcome to the village, strange comrade."

    As the two of us turn a corner, a new light rushes into my eyes. The Chasm suddenly widens from a thin walkway to a large basin—vaster than I could ever imagine! And in the basin, hundreds of radiant cones—buildings, I presume—jut out into the fog. The conical dwellings, which appear to be almost incorporeal, mere illusions of light, vary in height from only slightly taller than myself to overpowering towers of intimidating stature, some rising so high that their tops are hidden in the misty air.

    Then I see something—a figure far out, on the other side of the village. I see it for just a moment, like the blinding light before. It's a figure—a figure like me. It stares, and I stare back at it. Suddenly, its stare consumes me, and I am sent somewhere else—not physically, but in my mind. 

    And there's the familiar darkness again. Unraveling the two of us, solving our mysteries—without telling us the secrets. I hear my counterpart speak as if he was right next to me. He says:

    "Who ARE we?"

    And then he is gone, and I am back at the village, with my one-eyed acquaintance, observing the view; a deafening silence.