Lucid Dream

It spoke no words, but I knew exactly what it wanted to say.

“Why must you sit here only to rot away?” I heard.

I couldn’t muster a response. The question stifled me, as it always did. No matter how many times it begged a response, it was always met with my silence. It knew only I could hear it, amidst the concealing darkness. This entity was always sure to make its presence known, with the incessant stare and creeping judgment only a monster could provide. A monster who I reside with.

It was hard to make out anything inside this devilish cell, as even through the void which consumed the space, a thick haze blanketed all there was to behold. Through the fog, vague figures danced about, contorting into whatever I could imagine. As much as I dreamed of light flooding my cell and exposing the true face of whatever else was trapped in here with me, no such reprieve would ever occur. The only things that remained were two pieces of furniture I was able to see.

The first was a bed, impressively large but otherwise unremarkable. In fact, it was incredibly uncomfortable despite the excessive amount of blankets and pillows. Every night felt like a coin flip as to whether I was painfully cold or viciously overheating. There was no comfort to be found in even the minor things, as I spent every night, whatever time it may be, stuck to this bed in contemplation. If I were lucky, I’d get to actually fall asleep, but it was hard to tell if I ever did. The walls always appeared the same, vagrant and imposing. In a mere moment, I would awaken once again, with absolutely nothing new to behold. 

Except for that God forsaken voice.

“You know you could leave.” I heard.

From the darkness, a wretched hand reached out and pointed at something on the far end of the cell. The hand was blacker than all the rest, with jagged claws and twisting veins that slowly faded back into the void. I tried to trace its arm back to a body, but as soon as I noticed it, it was gone. Instead, I turned to face what it had pointed at. 

There was something new, as the fog converged to form a doorway, seemingly bright and shimmering. It was unsightly, blinding to look at. I expected it to light up my cell, but it appeared phantasmal and only served to taunt me with something I didn’t want. The swirling motion of the fog was nearly hypnotising, beckoning me to stare deeply into, no matter how much I hated it. The doorway persisted, showing me there was a way out of this hell I found myself in.

No, I didn’t want to leave.

“You’re miserable.” I heard.

I could never actually see it. It spent a great deal of effort to remain hidden at all times, mostly choosing to stalk just behind me. I wanted to try and imagine what it could possibly be, perhaps even envision it in a friendly manner, but no image would come to me. It was simply an enigma, an everlasting force that only a person could see. Its breath would slowly caress the back of my neck, and occasionally it would feel greedy and wrap its claw around my arm, always fleeing before I had a chance to do anything about it. In a sense, it was trying to push me, trying to muster some sort of reaction out of me. I never gave it such a thing.

Typically, the monster would push me in some positive way. It would suggest things like working on some sort of story or help those who are close to me. These things were repulsive. It was trying to mold me to fit some sort of normality.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve eaten.” I heard.

It couldn’t possibly fathom that I was unlike it, that I was a different kind of monster entirely.

“You should get up and do something.” I heard.

Its voice was putrid to listen to, crackling and distant. To give myself a break from its persistence, I sat up from the bed and turned to face the second thing I knew for certain was in the room, a desk.

The floor was an endless pit, defined only by the fog which choked the air. For all I knew, I would immediately begin to fall as soon as I slipped off of the bed. Within the ether, the shadows scattered, revealing a solemn platform just below where my feet dangled. The monster pulsated with ecstatic energy, a feverous hopeful energy as I stepped off into the darkness.

Quickly, the bed dissipated into the void, and any thoughts of returning to my stillness were quickly scratched away. Irate at this notion, I slowly stepped over to the desk, each of my steps propped up by solid darkness. The smell of grime and disease floated in the stale room, feeding my disgust with the whole situation. My slow steps echoed out unnaturally into the nothingness, blocking out the insatiable whisperings of the creature. Even in between the worlds, I felt the dreaded pressure as if someone or something was observing me beyond my personal little angel, something grander than just this enclosed cell.

As soon as I reached the desk, a simple office chair materialised itself in front of me, and instinctually, I took a seat. I spun the chair around and was met with the deep black colour of the desk, a short and mundane working space. It dulled my mind just looking at it, and I could hardly tell where the desk ended and the void began. Although, what made it abundantly clear were the countless pages scattered about collecting vacuous dust from the darkness. Sifting through them, I found various heinous stories of evils all but forgotten, masterful artworks of horrific creatures no sane being could ever dream of. Perhaps a person might have enjoyed these terrifying projections, but I couldn’t recognise them.

“Can’t you see what you’ve done?” I heard.

Atop the rest of the pages sat a disheveled photograph, one clearly taken with an old polaroid camera. My eyes were drawn to it quickly and I carefully picked it up to inspect it. The image glowed with a grossly incandescent light piercing the world. Inside it was a boy, roughly fifteen years of age, sporting a fancy pair of aviators. His wavy brown hair danced along each side of his face, rough and tangled. Behind him presented a bright and joyous room, white painted walls and various posters of old metal bands and video games. The rest of his features were blurred, unable to be discerned.

“What happened to him?” I heard.

I didn’t know.

“You do know.” I heard.

Tired of the questions, I threw the picture and quickly stood to face the entity making all the decisions for me. This time, it didn’t hide. It stood its ground, feeling emboldened by my obedience. It was trying to turn me into something I’m not, something like it. I rejected everything about it, all the blessings couldn’t get me to accept what it offered. 

It was monstrously tall, with a form easy to distinguish from the darkness. Its skin, or whatever could be called its skin, was made of pure static and malice. There was nothing remarkable about its limbs, aside from what I had seen before. Finally, my gaze landed on its freakish head, and its featureless face. Hellish horns sprouted from its skull, which appeared to connect with something beyond the world.

We stood face to face, as it stood hunched over to even fit within the room. Slowly, it revealed the one feature it had, a mouth, as it creased into a violent grin. I could see endless rows of teeth spiral deeper and deeper into the soul of the creature, within its vital display of depravity.

It wanted me to be human.

Just as I had caught its visage, it began melting into the darkness once again, back to where it belonged. The abyss grew ever closer, as faint memories of my past began to fill the room. I could see the edges of a dresser pressed into the corner of the room. There were various outlines of flags and memorabilia of the world I was once proud of. Sitting below the desk was the faint rainbow glow of a computer with customised accent lights. I could almost see these things as being mine.

Eventually, my eyes returned to the fog wall, the doorway presented to me. It was an escape, a way to break free from this vicious cycle. For once, I thought I could actually make it, to do something with the thoughts trapped in my soul.

The world crumbled away back into the shadows, and only the fog remained. After a few steps, I reached the doorway and stared deeply into the bright light. I felt no fear, as I had so many times before, the light no longer repulsed me.

“When will you be normal?” I heard.

“Maybe someday.” I finally told myself.

I reached my hand into the fog, pulling myself into it and grabbed a doorknob. Quickly twisting it, my door opened, leading into the hallway. Light flooded into my room, showing everything to be in order, the painted plaster walls, carpet floor, and all the fixings of a typical teenager’s room. It was my room, in my parents house.

More importantly, it was gone.