The desert never failed to play tricks on my mind. Years after our vacation to the Nevada Desert, I was diagnosed with a rare condition known as Flash Photosensitivity Disorder. As a result, I had many moments where light, simple light, caused me a great deal of pain. It wasn’t just sunlight, either. Fluorescent lights, neon lights, anything. I was trapped in a world of darkness.

    Until a few days ago, my FPD was only mild. I was able to take walks, go to the market nearby for food, and even watch a little bit of television without too much discomfort. Unfortunately, it has escalated a bit. For the past four days, I have been sitting in my dark house all alone with the windows boarded up, all electronics shut off, and only cold food because anything that heats food up will generate light. Honestly, it feels like I am going crazy. The littlest glimpse light made me feel like I was going to burst into flames. What is happening to me?

    Eventually, as I got even more desperate for some form of entertainment, I decided to turn on the radio. Immediately, I was blasted with an early 2000s song by The Fray. I couldn’t quite identify it, but it certainly lightened my mood up.

    Next up was an indie rock song that I wasn’t familiar with, but I couldn’t keep my own foot from tapping to the beat. It truly was good music, and very lightening on my irrational depression. For the first time all week, I actually felt somewhat entertained, somewhat happy. But it did not last long.

    In a jolt of convulsion, the sound of an intense rainfall and quickly escaping air filled the room. Without any struggle, I was able to identify the source of the unpleasant sound: the radio. Instinctively, I changed the station, but I was not rewarded with the wondrous tune of another song. Instead, the heart-wrenching sound only intensified. Now, only acting to rid my ears of the horrid pain, I flipped through several different stations in a panic. Nothing resulted from it, not a single rest of silence.

    Just as I was about to give up and turn the radio off, I could have sworn I heard a voice whisper something. I couldn’t make it out so I turned the volume up slightly and listened intently, waiting for the whisper to return. To my surprise, it did. There was a whisper that sounded like the voice of a young man, but I still could not make out exactly what it was saying.

    Then suddenly, silence. After a couple of seconds, the guy on the radio spoke very clearly: “Sidney.”

    My name being uttered in that sinister whisper sent a shiver up my spine. In a quick moment, it suddenly made sense to me. My inconsistent pain from light. My inability to trust my own senses.

    I hadn’t yet woken from my nap in the vat.