A Short Story: Gone

"I've looked everywhere!" he screamed into the empty room-- talking solely to himself, as he always did when he was flustered and confused.  The room was mostly dark except for a desk lamp and the flames licking and cracking along in the fireplace, making the shadows in the room dance against the cold gray walls.

He tossed aside paperwork from his simple sized desk, pushed a second small silver desk lamp dispassionately to the floor-- the dim light bulb burst with a sick pop and flash of light-- and pulled out drawer after drawer until the last one was overturned, contents spilled onto the dark brown shag carpet; papers, pens, notepads, everything lay across the thick fibers.  It wasn't there.

Where is it?! Think!  

His faded blue eyes, glazed over in confusion, darted around the room; up and through every bookshelf, every nook, and every dark little cranny.  His breathing stuttered with worry and his chest was tight.  He ran his hands back over his head, pulling his long graying hair from his eyes and then back to a pointed peak under his nose and over his mouth. His eyes were closed, trying to walk himself through where he last had it or at the very least where he had last seen it. 

His heart thumped hard inside of him. A realization washed through him with deep anxiety and he knew that the thing he was looking for was another thing he could not remember. My god, what is it? What am I looking for? It was right here... and right on the tip of my tongue. DAMMIT! His eyes wondered over the room and recognized nothing. The books on the shelves with titles he could read but could not place. Had he read them? Were they even his?

Where am I?  God help me!  WHERE IS IT?! I must find it. 

A feeling of some great importance had been attached to the thing he was looking for but he could not remember what it was. The anxious ball in his gut grew and his fingers and limbs trembled. He could not control himself and suddenly, tears filled his eyelids and ran over them, down his gaunt cheekbones.

A door to the room swing open in a rush and the shadow of a person stood before him. Who they were to him, he did not know. There was nothing recognizable to their features. They looked on him with what seemed a great sadness and pity but he did not know if they knew him. He could not place the face or a name. They spoke out but he did not recognize the voice or even the words. He did not understand what they were saying to him. 

He recognized nothing. He fell to the floor and squeezed his knees tight into his chest. Everything was nothing. He cried there, alone in the dark. Everything was swallowed into the darkness.

He was lost.

Gone.