Does this Feel Familiar?

TW: This story has dreamcore/weirdcore imagery and ideas of transphobia in it that the character deals with.

“Don’t you remember?” One of the hyper-realistic, disembodied mouths on the wall said to me in a cunning, female voice.

“No,” I responded without a single thought, focusing on the creaking of the bright pink and yellow swing as I swung back and forth. I’ve been here for a long time, I refuse to remember.

“We all know you’re lying,” what sounded like a hundred voices said at once. 

I gripped the slightly rusted chains of the swing and leaned back, cringing as I felt my dark, curly brown hair fall to the blindingly bright artificial grass as I looked up at the painted sky on the ceiling. My eyes met with many others, all wide open and looking right into my soul. They didn’t blink once as they analyzed my heavy eyes and pale face. I could feel their judgment, but I didn’t care.

Quietly, a cheery, yet eerie song started to fade into the room. Almost like circus music. I sat back up and my eyes met with a man dressed in fancy, clown-like clothing. He wore a red and yellow polka dot suit with a red tie and rainbow striped pants. He had messy light purple hair. It was short, but for some reason his face still had a shadow casted over it that made it completely blacked out. But thinking back now, I think that might just be his face. He stood tall with perfect posture and kept his hands politely folded behind his back. He never took his hands out from behind his back.

“Why, hello little Mary! How are we feeling today?” He said to me from across the room, his voice bright and cheerful while echoing towards me

The mouths quietly giggled at me, but I still managed to get out what I wanted to say, “My name isn’t Mary, it’s Morgan,” after I paused for a quick second, I decided to answer his original question, “I guess I’m fine.”

“Ah! Well!” He said, clapping his hands together, making me jump out of my slouched seating position into a position that made me look like I was a stick, “being, just ‘fine’ is no good! You have to be good! No! You have to be great! No! You have to be amazing!”

After every “No,” he seemed to get brighter, and it was painfully overwhelming. He kept spinning and posing as he spoke and I looked at the mouths who's giggling just got louder.

When I looked back at where he was, I saw that he wasn’t standing there anymore. I realized that he wasn’t talking anymore either.

“H-Hey…where did you go?” I said, standing up and slowly turning to look around me.

“Why I’m right here, my dear!” He exclaimed right in my face, poking his head through the chains of the swings which were now behind me.

I screamed and fell backwards as the shadows of his face seemed to almost reach out to grab me. I closed my eyes when I felt the impact of the ground, but then quickly looked back up, only to find him not there.

“I’m sorry! Did I give you a fright?” Once again, he cheerfully popped out of nowhere, this time standing right above me and looking down at me with a bright invisible smile.

I let out a high pitched scream as my heart jumped out of my chest and my hands dragged me away from the man.

“Stop doing that!” I screamed, more annoyed than scared. I really didn’t feel scared actually, his presence was so overwhelmingly friendly that it was almost impossible to feel scared.

“As you wish, little lady!”

Don’t call me that

“Now, how about we get going? It’s about time, don’t you think?”

“About time for what?”

Without an answer, he turned away from me and walked away, his footsteps not making a single sound. I lifted my foot to take a step, but quickly put it back down. Thinking for a moment, I felt a sense of familiarity. Do I know this man? Why am I willing to follow him? Why do I feel safe with him? 

I looked up at the eyes on the painted sky, and they looked right back down at me. And with their blink, I was in a completely different place.

“Welcome home, Little Lamb,” a familiar female voice said from the darkness in front of me.

Hearing that nickname made my stomach turn. The lights clicked on and I saw the shadow of a woman I once knew. Her figure was clear, but the only feature that I could see was her eyes. I looked around this familiar place, this familiar home, and that man wasn’t anywhere in sight. For some reason, not being able to find him made me panic.

Looking back at the shadow woman, she was now closer and cupping my chin, “Little Lamb, you’re pale, do you feel alright?”

Her eyes and words shot right through me and I smacked her hand away, “Don’t touch me, and definitely don’t call me that,” I said, my words coming out on their own.

I immediately regretted my decision as she silently stared me down. The room felt like it was floating on the ocean, and I felt sea sick. 

Then she grabbed my pink and red uniform dress and pulled me down to the floor, “This belongs on you!”

Instead of hitting the floor, I phased right through it and fell right into a room decorated elegantly with pink.

“No,” I managed to choke out, “What happened? What did you do to my room?”

“You are confused, Mary,” my mother’s voice echoed through my head, “You are a beautiful young lady, not a disgusting man!”

“No! I’m not confused! Stop calling me Mary! I don’t want that name!” I put my hands over my ears and screamed, burying my head into the floor as my eyes welled with tears.

“You are MARY! YOU ARE MY DAUGHTER!”

“NO! MY NAME IS MORGAN! I SHOULDN’T BE A GIRL! I SHOULD BE YOUR SON!” Losing what little cool I had left, I quickly grabbed a conveniently placed pair of pink scissors off of the pink nightstand and cut big chunks of my hair off. It was messy, but that girly hairstyle was no more.

“What have you done?!” My mother’s voice roared, causing the room to shake and crumble.

I lost my balance and fell to my knees as tears rolled down my face. I let myself lay down on the soft, pink carpet and curl up into a pathetic ball of tears and snot. But in the darkness, a clapping interrupted me.

“Well done, Morgan. I’m proud of you,” the man from earlier came out of the corner of the crumbling room, slowly clapping his hands, but this time that goofy costume was just an everyday long sleeve shirt and jeans. And his hair was short, brown, and curly, just like mine. And his face was now clear.

“Dad,” I sobbed, reaching out to him.

“Morgan…Boy or girl, you are always going to be my precious child,” he said, walking over to me and embracing me, “I will always love you either way. So please, come back…”

What?

“You can’t change what you did that night, but I’m still here. So please…”

Letting go of me, my father stepped away and looked down at my hand. I was gripping something. I opened my hand to see multiple used matches, and my whole hand and arm started to become burned. I looked up at him, and the whole room burst into flames.

“So please, wake up.”

Beep

Beep

Opening my eyes, I saw a bright light above me, and heard a familiar, male voice speak some calming words to me…

“Good morning, Morgan.”