Chapter Text
“Uuhhhhhhg.” My back ached as if I had slept on concrete, which wouldn’t be a surprise if I had. The light swam behind my eyes when I opened them, watering, at the yellow field dancing in the silent breeze. The sky was grey and moggy with a bright sun hidden under all that fog. I flipped to my stomach and pushed myself up with a groan, brushing the stray dirt off my pants. I frowned at the tall grass that towered over me. I spun in a small circle, trying to get settled. Last time I ended up in some sort of wheat field, it was because I was legally borrowing some parts from some poor farmers' vehicles. The horses somehow glared at me as I pocketed the goods in my bag. I shivered at the thought. That had been years ago.
The ground felt sturdy. “Welp, jus’ going to walk now, do-do-do, definitely wasn't kidnapped and am totally oblivious to any unseen attacks and or trauma about to happen.” I took a few steps then looked around, frowning, ugh, why can’t they have kidnapped me somewhere more convenient?. Like a… all you could eat buffet. Biting the inside of my cheeks, I swallowed. Yeah, with ribs too. Moses, I haven't- Suddenly, something fell to the ground. “AH,” I could have seen it as some sort of weapon and flung my arms out to defend myself… Perfectly cooked and seasoned ribs sat in the dirt in front of me like some sort of trap. “Heh…. yeah, no.” I looked around the field. What is this? Some sort of crazy simulation. I always knew the universe was secretly a hologram… I poked it with my boot, finding myself gradually walking backwards and away.
I cleared my throat. “Yep, nice prank, kidnapper." Tsh, what is with these people and randomly making food appear… I pinched myself suddenly at the thought and sighed, “Damnit Using more force, I felt nothing, letting my hands drop to my sides in defeat… Usually, when I find out I’m in some sort of dream, I wake up unnerved and in a cold sweat. I don't just not wake up. If this is what a coma feels like, I wouldn't complain because I have all the food I could ever want. here. mean until someone undoes the life support.
I tapped my foot impatiently.
Getting tired of standing, I sat down in a chair. That I made. “Come on, I can't stay here all day- er’ uh whatever time it is.” Nothing answered, and I paused, letting a long groan out. It's fine to act like that here, who is going to hear you-? Your neighbors…? NOT.
I found myself walking through the stalks of wheat, deciding to go in the direction the sun was sitting, pushing aside the tall things that easily double my height. Steadily, they lowered as if the middle of the field was more grown out than the outskirts of the place. The dream took place in a huge field. I spotted the old Glass Shard swingset nearby and scowled, looking elsewhere. This better not be a dream with him in it. I don't need that reminder. After convincing myself I wasn't waking up again, I walked towards the randomly big, tall-looking mechanical triangle that just sat there. Menacingly. It took twenty minutes to walk to the damn thing, and I felt more useless than before, “Welp, there is nothing about this I understand,” I grumbled, conjuring up a cigarette and lighter…
The dry field swayed in the breeze.
I may have tried to light it on fire. Nothing changed. Stupid dream and ignoring my arsonist wants (It's fine because it's a dream). After my cigarette lit, I took a puff and turned to face the huge metal thing, tilting my head that was taller than the grass by four times. I sat perfectly still right in the middle of the whole place, looking completely out of my skill set. I let out some steam.“The hell type of joke is this?” I murmured, “And what's with everything being tall-” The only other thing that was here was the swing set, which was definitely mocking me. I turned away from it.
“Restaurant-” I mumbled, eyes closing as if I could manifest myself away from this shitty place, “I’m in a noisy restaurant… actually no- I’m the only person in a restaurant and… I can have all the food I want,” I peeked an eye open, getting grass, “Uhg I hate these dreams.”
The swingset taunted me, and I growled, begrudgingly walking over through the messy field. It was barely hanging together. The seat I used to sit on was broken and hanging by a thread from the chain. His seat looked pretty weak at the hinges on the top. Ugh… because I have nothing better to do, I manifested some duct tape and slapped it over the broken parts because, hey, dreams don't need actual logic, and I'm bored.
I sat in my seat scowling at the ground. Of course, it's a weird, cryptic dream too. The ones your psychologist would look at and go “Oh my… It looks like you need fifty-seven pills for that, and also insurance doesn't cover it, and also get your life together.” I smacked myself in the forehead for that thought. That was just an estimate of what a therapist actually is like. I swung my legs briefly and huffed, grabbing the chain. The nostalgia alone made me a bit queasy when it hit. Sixer and I were playing on the beach… shaking my head hard and standing up, I looked around for some sort of thing to do or change because I damn can't change the location I'm in for some reason.
“HHHELLOOO???” I cupped my hands around my mouth and waited for a reply. I got nothing, tapping my foot, making one of those stupid paddleboards I haven't used in years to pass the time. What was I thinking? Someone would be here? After a bit of struggling, I got back into the flow of using the board, “Stupid. Stupid-” I groaned, taking a smoke from my ciggy as I stood there uselessly. “This dream sucks!” It's just a whole lot of nothing! I began pacing, biting the inside of my mouth. “You suc,k dream!" I glared at the air.
When my boots hit something softer-sounding, I froze in place, looking down. A trapdoor sat under me like some sort of secret bunker with the word “memories” burned into the top with gold text. It was hard to read because it was damn cursive. What sort of dream has cursive in it!?
I lifted the door and grimaced at the glittery shiny space under it. It looked as if you took space and stuffed it into a room. The colors were vivid blues and blacks, along with stars in the distance. A random table sat unoccupied with fancy triangle etchings on the top, floating slightly tilted, and two chairs were nearby. There were random items near it that you would use on a table. Like fucking hell if I'm jumping in there- there is no way I would ever just float around in-.
…
Pft, what am I? A baby-?
I put my legs in and let myself fall, NOT screaming or anything. My gut swirled at down being up and right and left- and everywhere. Gravity felt weird when there was none. Prying my eyes open, I saw the table. Trying to get rid of the queasiness, I slowly made my way over (flailing my arms)and immediately sat down on the chair when I did. I let out a sigh. It isn't the same as having ground under you, but it feels better than nothing. Chess pieces floated around, and I grabbed one, turning it in my hands. “Heh.” Never did like chess. It's weird, it shows up here of all places. I set it on the table just for it to start floating again.
My brows furrowed at the teacups, and I snorted, slamming my feet on the table and leaning back watching some of the stuff float around, “Weird as fucking dream,” I muttered, leaning back and poked at one of the pawns. UHHHHG, is there anything to actually do here? My stomach swirled with motion sickness, and I huffed, staring out at the stupid stars. “Wake up. Wake upppp.” I shoved my palms into my forehead, “Up-Up. Now” Nothing happened, and I grabbed the table to stop the stupid spinning. I huffed, “Why the hell even is this place in my dream anyways!?” I looked up(?) at the trapdoor and scowled.
The six-fingered hand imprint on the back of the door caught my eye. I shifted on the chair, pushing myself up to it, trying to ignore the sense of falling. I grabbed it harshly to get a closer look, “The hell type of-” Gravity reappeared out of nowhere after I touched the golden hand, and I screamed, hitting the ground hard. A huge library sat in place of where the words STANFORD'S MEMORIES almost made me choke. They hung on a sign above the spacious, dark, wooded desk around me, filled with some sort of computers and books. My legs were shaky as I stood, boots scuffing lightly on the yellow, angular carpet.
I ran a hand down my face, feeling overwhelmingly confused.