#nightmare inspired

I did an acrylic painting for the first time in years. Going to need a lot of work. This piece was created after I had a nightmare about people watching me and I couldn't defend myself.

I don't understand. The Reavers have always been violent before, often lunging at me before getting killed. So why are they actively avoiding me now?

A crunch of leaves underfoot is ahead of me.

"Do it." I don't care, I'll pick death over whatever happens when I lose this game.

The crunching is closer, accompanied by sniffing.

"Get it over with."

More crunching, then a dragging gets closer.

What is happening? I open my eyes.

It's a Reaver. It's dragging a branch, still covered with leaves. It must have broken off during the storm last night.

It covers me with the leafy parts of the branch.

It sniffs again, then runs in the direction I came from.

I don't understand anything that's happening.

Another gunshot. They were farther away, but still following me.

Wait.

Whoever's chasing me is obviously getting attacked, and someone from the family was always with me outside.

The Reavers might not have been going after me.

I can wonder about the Reavers later, right now I'm just hoping they're distracting the person.

_________________________

Another Reaver falls to the ground headless.

She knew the forest was dangerous, that they'd attack her any chance they got.

He can't hear her footsteps anymore.

But she ran in, fast as she could.

He's picking his way forward, going in the last direction he heard.

Was the thought of getting married really that scary to her?

He shakes his head.

She has to love him back, she was around him the most.

It must be the others then. They scare her. That has to be it. They couldn't get to him so they went after her. He can't let that happen again.

Another Reaver, another shot, another dead.

He'll find her, and make sure they never touch her again.

_________________________

The shots are getting closer.

So this is the end of the line for me.

I'm just... Tired. I don't know how long I was running, but I'm not a fast, nor fit, person.

Is this what foxes feel like? When their tricks don't work, and they're trapped, and that the hound will find them any moment?

"Where the hell are you!?"

I don't think he's better than death.

_________________________

Nothing.

Nothing but Reavers.

What if she's hurt?

He grew up in these woods, he knows the river is up ahead.

What if-

No, no.

He has to shoot this Reaver twice.

He can't panic now, especially if she's hurt.

_________________________

The shots keep me awake.

I should be running.

The others just want me as food.

But...

His words when he was chasing me around the house...

"We could start a family, just you an' me!"

"I ain't leaving you, don't care who I have to kill."

"Come on, why're you crying? Isn't this what you wanted?" The look on his face as he said that...

He really doesn't understand.

Maybe...

_________________________

There's a thin strip of dirt that's been dug in, like something was dragged.

It's the only clue he has; too many Reavers trampled around here for anything else.

It leads him to a branch that's too close to the tree. If that wasn't enough of clue, then it coming from a different tree is.

He yanks it away.

"There you are." She's on the ground. He finally lights the lantern. The smell should keep them away. He kneels on the ground in front of her. She looks so small here...

He runs his hands across her face, her neck, her shoulders, her arms. He hesitates, then runs them down the sides of her chest, her hips, and her thighs.

Don't look don't feel just keep checking for injuries.

She only flinches when he gets to her right ankle, and so does he. It looks swollen, he tried to be gentle.

He grabs her shoulders.

"Look at me." She opens her eyes.

"Why did you run." He wants to push her back against the tree and yell at her.

But he has her phone; he stopped hearing her almost a day ago.

Be gentle.

_________________________

Careful, don't make it his fault.

"I..." I already feel the tears coming. I have to spill my guts, don't I?

"My family is the only reason I'm still alive. I miss my mom, and my dad, and my sister, and my niece and nephew and the thought that I would never..."

I hate this. I hate being honest. I can't take it back.

"And Life wasn't being horrible! I had a stable job, and I was looking at apartments, and I had friends who cared and shared my interests and were just as weird as I am."

I can't stop, my words nor my tears.

"And I had co-workers who noticed when I'm down and I actually wanted to live and then this happened and..."

I can't talk around my tears anymore.

_________________________

He kisses her forehead. It wasn't him, he knew it. And he can fix this.

He looks away and wets his lips. Ma doesn't like her, and little brother and sister aren't found of her either; they say she cursed him, like that witch did the family. They won't let him have her.

Okay. He knows what to do.

"Wait here for me. We'll go to your family together." He's about to break the curse, the house won't be safe for a her, much less a family. "I'll take care of it, okay?"

"And if you don't?"

She loves him, she has to. He kisses her forehead again, then grabs the lantern.

He didn't get the name Hunter by being kind.

When I started this over a year ago, my plan was to make it a series. The inspiration’s name was going to be in the title. I wanted to take nightmares from a bunch of people and name the poems after them, this one being the pilot. But I don’t see that happening. It will be but this one and another. Never say never though.

“Yes, but why?” the first man asked. I had never felt more inquisitive of a subject before this conversation. I inconspicuously adjusted my seat and continued eavesdropping.

“Why what? Why isn’t this of more global importance? Or why does it exist?”

“The first, but go ahead and answer both.”

“Well, every nation’s space program has agreed to keep this under wraps as to not cause a commotion. Simple, yes?” The first man nodded and peered into his commander’s eyes. The older gentleman’s poker face must be the envy of Vegas. “The reason it’s there is not known at this time. All the supposed experts can agree on is that it’s not from this planet. The … what are they called? … Anthropologists say that it’s nothing from any known civilization.”

My mouth gaped and I, against my wishes, let out a silent chuckle. I then cleared my throat, leaned into my newspaper, and sipped some more coffee. “Ha. Oh, Marmaduke.” My teeth chattered but I don’t think they knew I was spying. My hair covered my directional microphone. I began to doubt whether these guys were the real deal. Even out of uniform, they sure were relaxed.

“Sorry to interrupt your reading, sweetie, but your food’s here.” I saw my waitress smiling and holding a plate. “Here, you go. French toast and hash browns. Can I get you anything else?”

“Do you have … um … raspberry syrup?” I was very timid. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. All it would take is one person to point out that my newspaper was a week old for the whole mission to be shot. I already looked odd enough. Fedora indoors, a novelty shirt, ripped denim shorts, thigh-high polka-dot socks, and lime green shoes that matched the various accessories I had around my wrists. My appearance, my solitude, my black decaf, and aged newspaper all raised more questions than they answered. I feel stupid. The best place to hide in is plain sight, right?

“Of course, darling. I’ll be back in a flash.” She left then returned before I could finish folding my reading materials. I gave thanks and turned my attention back to the men a few empty booths behind me. I don’t think they’ve said much else to each other. Their waitress also delivered their food.

“It runs on consciousness? Sounds like something out of a science fiction novel or short, but still decently-written, story. All things considered, that is. It can pretty challenging to find time to write.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“But how can they know that? The consciousness as a fuel source?”

“Really, they cannot. The writings found in the surrounding area are not of this world, remember? It’s all conjecture.”

“You trust the scientists?”

“What choice do I have?”

“I suppose.” The young man paused, stirred his coffee. “When will they put a person inside?”

“These flapjacks are delicious.” The commander was getting lost in his privileged gluttony. “What was that?”

“A person. When will they let a person explore?”

“They’re not entirely sure if they will. What’s happened so far is-”

“Hi.” Please no. “How are you? Mind if I sit here with you? I’ve been watching you from my booth over there… well… um… not like watching like stalking…like admiring… Sorry.” I slouched into my table. I don’t believe this guy is serious. “I like your shirt. You watch The Office too? Personally I think the U.K version was superiorly casted and written.” Please leave. I placed my fork on a napkin next my plate and made brief eye contact with the stranger.

“The shirt was a gift. Please. I’m trying to enjoy my hash browns.” I spoke quickly hoping he would get the hint. He didn’t.

“I don’t understand why people like shredded hash browns. The hash patties are far more consistent tasting.” Did he just use the word “consistent” to describe how potatoes taste? Should I feel insulted at his insinuation that my spud palette is somehow unrefined? I turned my attention to my breakfast, again, hoping he would get the hint. Again, he didn’t. “I’m talking to you. I know you don’t want to be sitting here alone. Let me keep you company.”

“Eating alone is exactly what I want to be.” I feebly hissed from under my teeth. Even though this guy was so cliché and tiresome, I was still too socially inept to assertively send him away.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He was sounding aggressive. The diner wasn’t empty but wasn’t crowded either. It made me nervous. “Talk to me. Tell me about that red Integra you pulled up in.”

My waitress walked up to my table as though the boy wasn’t there and asked if there was anything I needed. I replied, “No, ma'am. But this guy here is telling me he wants to dine and dash.” She grabbed his wrist and stared daggers, katanas, rapiers, lightsabers, and every other sharp object you can think of at him. “He said this is his third breakfast today. You can call Bundy’s and The Crowned Egg right now. They’ll concur.”

“I think I’ll just call the cops. Thank you, young lady. The cooks won’t be happy to hear someone was trying to steal.”

“You bitch!” The waitress gave the annoying guy a quick slap to the back of the head and pushed him towards the kitchen.

I nonchalantly peaked behind me and saw the men were getting up to pay their check. I needed to get out before they suspected anything. I was incredibly nervous and paranoid. My anxiety was getting to me again. I pulled out my wallet and left a crisp twenty on the table, more than enough to cover the bill and tip. I hastily made my exit and drove away.

______________________________________________________________

The next day, I researched what I had overheard. I shared my findings with my friend Hank. He was the one who told me to observe the men in the diner. When he told me his father had been fired from a secret government project involving exterrestrial technology, I reasonably called him a liar. Hank had cried wolf, alien, ghost, and alien wolf ghost seven times too many to be trusted. It still seems more likely that this is an elaborate prank. If so, I’m glad that annoying guy was interrogated by the police. That’ll teach them to try to pull one over me.

My research has been pretty inconclusive though. I’ve only found fringe websites in which people like Hank discuss the paranormal, the supernatural, girls, Tarantino movies, and everything in between. According to other leaks and alleged whistleblowers, the thing the men were discussing is a building not too far from where I live. It’s only a few towns and a desert over. Many of the stories conflicted but the city it was in was agreed upon. Former city would be more appropriate. I mapped out the coordinates online and only empty land came up. No buildings, trees, private property, animals, or anything. Not even a name for the area. It gave me the creeps when I thought about some of the implications of hiding such a discovery. We all know the government lies to us but this seemed big. Too big to be swept under the rug even if it is only virgins and introverts that care.

My phone rang.

“Yeah, Hank?”

“Okay, I’ve been analyzing what you recorded and making transcripts trying to decode some fresh info. It is astonishingly complex.” Hank’s pretentiousness lost luster as I heard him dig through a bag of snacks. “You couldn’t begin to comprehend what I’ve fracked so far. Gosh, you’re so stupid sometimes.”

“Thanks. Explain then. And you’re welcome for doing this. This could’ve had some dangerous consequences.”

“I can’t elaborate yet.”

“Ha!”

“Shut up. I’m not sure yet. They sounded so unphased about it. I don’t trust them. There’s no way they could’ve known you were listening. You had my sneaking hat on. It adds 10 stealth ability points. Wait… Were you wearing that Office tee?” He punctuated the question with a loud lick of his fingers. He must’ve been grazing on mini powdered donuts.

“Yeah?”

“Dammit! You could’ve compromised the entire mission!” He caught his breath and continued. “As I was saying, there’s no way they could’ve suspected you. Maybe there was someone else there and they were deceptively covering up their tracks.”

“Just say it already.”

“I’m not going to say thank you. And I don’t care that it was dangerous. You could’ve weaseled your way out of it, plus you’re no nark.”

“Not what I mean.” There was about fifteen seconds of silence as he put the pieces together and disassembled his mental monstrosity. “Say we’re going to have to go excavate the site.”

“We?!” he snorted. “No way. You can go. I’ll provide intel. You know I’m more an Otacon than a Raiden.”

“If I’m Raiden, you’re Rose.”

“You know I hate Rose. She’s so useless. The love story ruined so much of the drama.”

“Then I’m Snake.”

“No. Not after all that fanfic you’ve read. I’m not a pawn in your deviant fantasy.”

“Whatever. I’ll just invite Emily. You can be Otacon. I’ll be Raiden. She’ll be Rose.”

“What?! No. No. I forbid it. And Rose isn’t even a saboteur!”

“If you want to know what’s going on, you have accepted it. I’m not going alone and, now that I think about it, your asthmatic self is not going to slow me down. I’m going to need to get going actually. She and I have a dinner date in an hour.”

“Fine.” He was obviously irked. What he said next was sincere though, despite his nerdiness. “You need to get over her, sis. Relax. Take a dip in the pool. Resort DeFriendzone is all inclusive.”

“You know I hate that word.”

“So I do. We’re not done arguing about MGS.”

“TTFN.”

“Namaste.”

I hung up, put away my headphones, and picked out an outfit for my dinner with Emily. I was to wear something casual but dressy. I chose my shirtwaist dress. It was black with white and red horizontal stripes towards the bottom. I also had a black belt, ruby necklace, and bright cherry red watch. The watch and necklace were both presents from her. All that was left was shoes and hair. Mary Janes and curls. Perfect.

Emily and I were meeting at some event at her church. Her grandma was being presented with an award for her service to God and the community. The event was being catered by Chili’s. Besides seeing Emily, that was all I cared about. I love Emily and I love Chili’s.

We met by an ornate fountain out front the church. She was wearing the dress she knew I loved. We exchanged compliments and friendly kisses then went inside to stuff our faces. Fajitas and wings, fajitas and wings.

“Being a vegetarian was the stupidest mistake of my life, I swear.” She was adorable. I couldn’t tell where her lipstick ended and the wing sauce began. I thought she was going to take a jab at me and claim dating me was the actual worst mistake of her life. It wouldn’t be the first time. “Well, second worst mistake, right?” She giggled and nudged me. Alright.

“If you’re down to make another mistake, I have something to ask you.” I felt stupid. I was getting tongue-tied.

“What do you mean?” She emphatically dropped her wing on her plate and wiped her mouth with her thumb.

“A trip. Just you and me. And Hank, sort of.”

“I don’t know. How soon?” How soon? She was into the idea.

“Couple days from now. It wouldn’t be far. Maybe 70 miles. You can fix a mix for the road. Plus, you have Wednesdays off.”

“I’ll think it over. I don’t know if it’s right. There is some new music I want to show you though.” I could tell this was tearing her up. She wants to hate me but can’t. She wants to love me but can’t. “As of now, it’s a maybe, but only because we really need to discuss the new Steazles release.”

The lights dimmed and we watched the presentations. Her grandma had substantially more vigor and vitality than anybody I’ve ever met.

The event wound down and the three of us sat together to discuss issues facing our tiny town. That night. I decided I would write in “Granny Addams” to be president come next election. Her deep-seated faith in the government, system, and social contract conflicted heavily with what I’ve found concerning the secret I was aiming to uncover and the ever present apathy of media outlets. Her constancy was admirable to say the least.

I walked them to their car and said my goodbyes. Emily gave me a warm hug, a signature lighthearted backhanded compliment, and a reason to look forward to hearing from her. As they drove away, I paced around the fountain and made some wishes. I wish I didn’t have to settle for fountain wishes all because my shining star had to get home because she had work in the morning. My coins are going to a good cause; that has to count for something, right?

______________________________________________________________

Hank came over to my apartment for a visit and to begin planning my excursion. He took it upon himself to give the mission a name: Operation Stream Of Consciousness (or sock, or soc depending on how jaunty he was). Personally, it didn’t resonate well with me but I wasn’t going to spoil his fun. He devised a plan that would work with only me or with Emily by my side. It was impressive in its simplicity and foresight. Hank is too socially awkward to order pizza over the internet and couldn’t get rid of his neck hair if he fell into a woodchipper but he is one clever son of a gun. He repeatedly called me out on my preoccupation. I couldn’t stop wondering when Emily was going to call me. I got over it and threw in some ideas for the plan. Everything was looking good. To finish our formal business, we made a mixed CD for the drive, downloaded the Steazles album Emily mentioned (he didn’t know she was responsible for the spontaneous interest), and properly calibrated all the spy equipment. After that, it was pizza and video games.

Soon after he left (because he can’t sleep in anyone’s home other than his own) I received a call. Emily. As soon as I saw her face on my screen, I breathed a sigh of contentment and held the phone to my chest before answering.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

“You decide yet?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” I wanted to squeal. I was so happy.

“I won’t have time to make that mix though.”

“Don’t worry, dear.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I was going to say Hank and I made a CD actually.” I gulped and cracked my knuckles out of nervousness.

“If you say so. Don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

“Okay.” Something was troubling her. “I’m trusting you.”

“Is there something you need to talk about? What’s wrong?”

She sighed.

“Please talk to me, Emily.”

“Come over.”

“Be there soon. Sit down. Drink water. We both know how you get when you’re stressed.” I chuckled, but she wasn’t amused and hung up.

I made it to her house in record time. She lived alone. Her parents both died in a fatal accident when she turned 18 and left all the property to her, the only child. She was standing in the doorway as I pulled up. I parked and ran to her.

“I told you to sit and wait.” She still wasn’t amused.

“Come inside.” We proceeded and had a seat on the couch.

In between tears and sips of boxed wine, she told me she was showering earlier and felt a lump in her left breast. Even though she could be a slob, she was a hypochondriac at heart. She kept reiterating that she was only 20 and didn’t deserve this. There was definitely a cancerous predisposition in her blood. Her grandma had a double mastectomy a decade before Emily’s birth. I couldn’t do anything but tell her I would always be sympathetic and ready to listen. It helped a bit. We agreed we’d go to a doctor together on the upcoming Friday. It was probably a benign cyst and nothing more. Emotions rose and subsided over the next few hours. We watched a couple Tarantino movies the conspiracy nerds recommended, and drank tea under her favorite blankets. She crawled into bed around midnight. I set my alarm and slept on the couch. I was nervous. I was intentionally keeping her in the dark about Operation Sock’s existence. Please. Go well.

______________________________________________________________

8 AM. Too early to be awake. I reticently stood and trudged upstairs to Emily who was brushing her teeth. Her eyes were swollen from sobbing.

“Wear black.”

She saw me over her shoulder via the mirror. “Why?”

“Just trust me.”

“Are we going to a funeral?” She spat out her toothpaste. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. Just don’t wear bright clothes. I’m very aware of the fact I’m asking a lot of you. Just do it for me.”

“Okay. I will. This better be worth the trouble.”

The car ride down was nice. We listened to the “Sock Mix” and chatted until we reached a dirt road detour.

“Let’s go,” I urged as I went off road.

“Talk to me now.”

“About?”

“Where we’re going.”

“Okay.” I had secretly concocted a story the night before. “It’s a scavenger hunt of sorts. The details are in my phone. Hank is setting it up. We have ear pieces to wear. It’s a competition. His weird internet friends set it up. It’s exclusive.”

She scrolled through my phone but couldn’t find anything. I felt terrible for lying but she didn’t need to see all the signs warning that we were trespassing and could be prosecuted. I parked a quarter mile from the forgotten city and we began our hike to the coordinates.

“Hank, can you hear me?”

“Affirmative. Over.”

“Not to alarm you, but this place is vacant. It’s a ghost town.”

“I told you not to use ghost as a pejorative. But that is indeed very curious. There’s nothing? Over.”

“I told you to stay off of Tumblr. And no, nothing. Not even a car. It’s so…”

“Decrepit,” interjected Emily.

“Yeah. Decrepit.”

“I couldn’t care less about aesthetics if I cared enough to try. Proceed towards the objective. Improvise as necessary. Operation Stream of Consciousness is a go. Over.”

Emily was in awe of the empty town. The towering brick buildings, cobblestone streets lined with rustic lantern light posts, and many sets of stairs surrounded by overflowing shrubbery were right out of an old picture book.  She always wanted to be an urban explorer. She watched documentaries on underground cities and other abandoned places at least once a week. We did a bit of trailblazing, mainly the railway station and some diners. There were no signs there had ever been a militaristic presence. I was a bit skittish. I assume Emily didn’t notice. She was having the time of her life, taking pictures, climbing things, throwing rocks, and bringing up old memories. I can’t say for certain she wasn’t thinking of the upcoming visit to the doctor but I like to think she was too overjoyed to have any fatalistic thoughts. We had our fun until the clouds were covering the sun.

“Okay, Emily. We need to get to a particular building now.” I read the street signs and consulted Hank. When he wasn’t playing an MMO game, he was whispering things in my ear. Mostly reminders to stay safe and Confucius quotes. “Look for a T.J’s Tailoring and Alterations.”

“Look.” She pointed to a sign directing to various businesses and landmarks. “It’s opposite the park we were just at.” As I approached, she grabbed my hand. “Let’s go!”

The shop was a short chase away. It was the only place with boarded up windows. On the front door read a sign DO NOT ENTER. It provided ample reason for Emily to pry the planks off the entrance. The door was a dark navy blue.

“Okay. We made it. This is where the fun begins, Emily. Thank you for coming with me.” She smiled. “I hope things can improve for us after all this.”

“You know they can’t. You broke me.”

“It was a mistake. I didn’t intend for you to get hurt. Cross my heart.”

She was silent, her head drooping. “What was her name?”

I bit my lip and took a deep breath. “I- I don’t remember.”

“That’s how little you care, huh? Either so little that you’d continue lying to my face or not enough to make the experience special to remember.”

Our earpieces interrupted our dispute.

“Hey, you two. Knock it off. Go inside already. You both goddamn love each other. You can kiss and make up afterwards!” He does care. “But, be warned. Once you’re inside, I don’t think I can reach you. Anything could be in there. According to my computer, your pieces are losing power incredibly fast. Since you approached that room, they’ve gone down 75%. Goodbye. Good luck. Godspeed.”

Emily and I both looked at each other deeply. Her eyes were full of expression: sadness, confusion, isolation, fear, anxiety, love. “What does he mean he doesn’t know what’s inside?”

“It’s complicated. This isn’t a scavenger hunt. This is an international cover-up of something from outside this solar system. I’m sorry for lying. This place wasn’t supposed to be abandoned. I didn’t want to be alone.”

“I forgive you this time. Also, I don’t believe you. This better be an elaborate wedding proposal or something, I swear. If there isn’t cake or a ring inside this building, you won’t be seeing me anymore.” I don’t deserve her. She’s too perfect. I wish I knew how much I loved her before that night with the nameless girl. Does this mean she does forgive me? Or can forgive me? This wouldn’t be the first time she played with my emotions in order to test my commitment.

“Deal.” We smiled, held hands, and pushed the door open.

It was dark. We proceeded hand in sweaty hand. A few steps in and the room was revealed to be empty by a light growing in intensity. Our grips grew tighter until the room was a pure, blinding white. I was alone. The room was still white. I could tell there were walls though they didn’t outwardly show their faces. There was a an doorway ahead of me leading to more darkness. I didn’t see a light source anywhere. The exuberant white was burning my eyes. I closed them and outstretched my arms, blindly flailing. A wave of isolation swept over me and I felt like I was drowning. My lungs couldn’t work fast enough. The air was getting thin. I wanted to cry but physically couldn’t. The universe was contracting. It was only spacious enough for me and it was getting smaller. I wanted to collapse but loss feeling in my body. Where do I end and the room begin?

“Emily?”

“Proceed.” A booming voice echoed.

“Who are you? What are you? Where’s Emily?”

“You are alone. You understood the risks when you entered. Now proceed.”

“No I did not. She and I were just exploring.”

“Neural scanning concludes you are being deceitful. Proceed.” The walls behind me slowly pushed me forward as I regained my composure. “Welcome to the point of no return. My species has observed Earth for eons. Normally, we would not invest any time in observing landlocked parasites but humans are quite unique in the universe.”

“Why? Are we intelligent? Resourceful? Ingenious?”

“No. Your structures and discoveries pale in comparison to all other life in the cosmos. What we all find fascinating is your emotions. Before observing your growth, a word for it never existed. Human consciousness is not like any other both in simplicity and complexity. In one Earth minute, you will be tested. The craft you are in runs on human brainwaves. By entering, you have consented to harvest. ”

“I did no such thing!”

“Silence! You will be tested. If you pass, you will keep enough to survive and use the craft. If you fail, all of your sense of self will be harvested and sent to me for fuel and to be commoditized.”

“Why don’t you just take it?”

“That is not honorable. Only the pettiest underdeveloped life forms imperialize. This is your gamble. May the universe be ever in your favor.”

“Wait! Where’s Emily?!” I was shouting to myself. I felt my body cross the doorway. The room was darker than I would’ve imagined possible. What does he mean “craft”? Am I in a spaceship? I kept one arm up to feel for a wall. There was nothing. I began to wonder how much of this was real. The voice claimed it could read my thoughts. Was this just a construct of my own imagination? A craft?

I wandered aimlessly for hours. The lights would rise every so often and indistinguishable whispers would surround me. The circular room appeared to be made of wood like a crate. It had polished wooden floors. It was comfortable to walk on. My legs were going to give out at any moment no matter how smooth the ground was.

“I can’t keep walking. I need to sit.” As I did, my eyelids grew too heavy to stay awake.

______________________________________________________________

A scream of tormented agony woke me up. It was coming from everywhere. “Emily?! I’m here. I’ll protect you! I promise.” The scream grew in volume and pain as the light rose a little more. How long have I been asleep? Seconds, hours, or days?

“Emily!"

The whispers returned. “Face your fear. Find your home. Face your fear. Find your home. Face your fear. Find your home.”

“Who’s there? Show yourself,” I bluffed.

For a split second the entire room illuminated. I couldn’t see above my shoulders. My head was getting heavier as I got to my feet. Gravity was trying to kill me. The scream came and went. I cried and kept shouting.

“Face your fear. Find your home. Face your fear. Find your home. Face your fear. Find your home.”

“Emily! I will protect you. I will protect you.” I shouted so much that the words were beginning to lose all meaning, cohesively and abstractly. All the words but “Emily.”

I fought gravity and raised my head to face the darkness. I faintly made out a blue-turquoise silhouette before my head sank to the floor. “Stop! Give me Emily!” I stumbled towards the shape with all the power I had. Days were passing. “I will stop you! I will save Emily!” My voice was decaying. The turquoise shadow circled my line of sight and I desperately reached for it. I cursed it and cried to Emily once again. I was powerless. I can’t keep doing this. Emily’s tortured pleas would not cease. How many days have passed? The lights hadn’t risen for hours. The darkness was winning. “Emily!”

“Face your fear. Find your home. Face your fear. Find your home. Face your fear. Find your home.”

“Emily! I can’t… I can’t save you. Forgive me.” I collapsed while my eyes and ears bled onto the unforgiving ground.

“INTERUNIVERSAL TRANSPORT ACTIVATED.”

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“Wake up, sleepy-head! We can’t keep everyone, especially my parents, waiting.”

“Why? What’s the rush?”

“How hard did you fall? We need to get to our wedding rehearsal. We can get Chili’s afterwards if you behave.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll be right up sweetie.”

“Good. Isn’t this world just perfect?”

“Yeah. It is.”