I awoke surrounded by an endless plane of flat white. Nothingness on all sides; a bleak and stark horizon which stretched to infinity without even a single object in sight anywhere. I sighed, getting to my feet and turning in all directions. I'd been here before.

This was a place I'd been coming since early childhood. It had started out only when I dreamed, and I'd originally thought that everyone came here when they went to sleep. When I described it to my parents, though, they told me that most people go to different places every time they dream. That wasn't the case for me; I always came to this place. However as I've gotten older, it's begun to be more and more frequent. I have zoned out at meetings and found myself here; lapsed attention in traffic and suddenly found myself sitting on this floor. I would spend hours or sometimes even what felt like it must be days here, only to suddenly find myself back out again.

When I come to, I'm always minutes or hours ahead of where I was when I left. If it happened at 3pm, I might come back at 3:05pm. Or 4:30pm. Or 11pm. Either way, I have no memory of the intervening time, despite having obviously done things. If I zone out in traffic and come here, I could drop back in and find myself at home sitting on the couch.

This place, which I have simply come to call The Void in my mind, can't really be described as inside or outside. There is not wind or air current of any kind, and the temperature is always the same. I can never tell precisely, but it's just on the edge of warm. It's well lit, but there is no visible light source. As I mentioned, there is nothing inside of it. Not a stick of furniture nor shred of clothing. There is no food, though I always grow hungry inside of it.

I've always wondered what it is, but I've had no hope of finding out. No one I've ever spoken to deals with something like this, and it's a difficult concept to explain. But it feels very real; just as real as anything I've felt during my waking hours. The problem isn't just that it's becoming more frequent, though that has certainly been the case. The problem is that I'm afraid of what I'm doing while I'm here.

I don't mean what I myself am doing. What I mean is that as I said, I always come back and find myself having done things in the time I was "away from the wheel" so to speak. I have come back and found myself cooking dinner, etc.

The last time I came back was different, though. I felt groggy, as if I'd only slept a little. I was in my bed, and when I sat up I saw that it was 11am. The last thing I remembered was watching TV the afternoon before, perhaps 4pm. Then I was in the other place, and I wandered there for what felt like days. As I pulled back the covers to stand and try to get my wits about me, I saw a stain on my hand. Brown, dried and crusty. Blood. Blood which had been there for a while.

I rushed to the bathroom and looked at myself, finding my clothes splattered with more blood. I initially thought I was wounded, but there were no obvious marks anywhere. I couldn't find the source and eventually gave up, having to accept that the blood had come from something (or someone) other than myself.

I've now been stuck in The Void for at least two days by my best estimate. It's hard to track time over here but I have developed ways over the years and I know it's been at least that long. That would have to translate to at least a day of time in the real world. I don't know who is controlling my body, how or why, but I am afraid of what they are making me do.