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the world was blurring into an array of colours.
the dreamer let out a soft groan, cracking open their eyelids only to be assaulted by insanity, colors clashing Infront of her vision as if a painter had gone wild. had they taken a wrong turn in the art gallery?
as they squinted, panic began to set in as they recognized the form of one—no, three? chasers, and they scrambled up, swaying in place as vertigo overtook them, and the next thing they knew, their sweater was covered in thick vomit.
"what—" another heave, this time threatening to topple her over, as she crouched, digging her nails into the surprisingly cold ground. was it soft, or was it hard? it didn't feel like either. it felt like her hands were seeping into a mess of organs, like in the other world that was stained with blood and, quite literally, guts. the thought threatened to make her sick all over again, and she quickly stood up, silently giving thanks to whoever ensured that there would be no projectile vomit this time.
oh. right. the chasers. they didn't have time to try and figure out where the hell they were exactly, reaching out and pressing a hand against the glass, shutting her eyes as she used it as a stabilizer and began to run. she couldn't see them, she couldn't see anything, but she had to keep going. she wouldn't get caught. not again.
wait. glass?
they froze, then slowly opened their eyes properly, staring at the glass. the colors dancing in their peripheral made it hard to focus, but she recognized that there were people right there. she reached a hand out, and oddly, was surprised to realize they couldn't be touched. the pieces slowly began to click together, and her breathing turned ragged with frustration.
insane coloring that put marijuana goddess world to shame? a suddenly high amount of chasers that somehow still hadn't caught her? mysterious glass with people that apparently, she realized, on the other side.
"godamn hallucination event." she rasped, wincing at the way her voice came out sounding warped and uneven, banging a fist against the glass as her confusion gave way to exhausted frustration.
she wasn't stupid. she had been here too many times before, whether by accident or by purposely coming back to try and decipher the place, and the pounding in her head prevented her from figuring out which it was this time. but, it was nothing short of pointless to stay.
every dream, every world, was just another layer of confusion. she didn't know why half of them existed. she didn't even know why she was able to access them in the first place. she wasn't sure she wanted to know, either. and sure, she could decipher some parts of it all, give names and reasons to a few chasers or mysterious creatures or strange happenings—which she labeled as events—but this event specifically was confusing as hell.
she was painfully aware of what she had to do. pressing both hands against the glass, urotsuki tilted her head back, and then very quickly slammed it against the glass, a harsh gasp escaping her at the pain that shot through her core, but she did it again. and again. and again. the colors got dull, and the chasers all but disappeared, but she continued. maybe she could die this way.
it was a meaningless hope, she realized, watching the people from the other side of the glass—scientists, her subconscious hissed—rush over to her. she had to be bleeding at this point, but she didn't care.
for someone who slept so often, she was tired. so, so tired. so, with hopes of a permanent end, she reeled back again, banging her head against the glass as hard as possible.
sharp agony was the only thing she processed before they fell unconscious, hopefully for the last time.