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Daylight screams and pulls at his eyelids
He refuses and clamps them shut
His hand joins in and covering them gently
Too bright
Too much
Too strong
Standing shielded
It's quiet now
Until his head starts up
Clattering
Splattering
Swirling
Twirling
He falls into a loop
And sinks down into its plughole
With nothing to grip onto on the way down
Hands clawing at nothing but noise
In the darkness he is sloshed from side to side
Down
Down
He is flipped and turned and direction is lost
He chokes on the liquid It gets in his eyes
He fights still, scrambling
Down
Down
He can't see in the dark
Too overwhelmed to make silent prayers
A cry from deep within him is squeezed out
Strangulated and foreign
His skin crawls at the sensation of being driven by forces outside him
With a splash and a thud he hits bottom. A pool of black liquid, itching and stinging his skin.
He scrambles to climb walls, his fingers becoming raw along with his voice rendered hoarse
He does not know
He does not know
"I do not know!" he shouts. As if it matters. Only it does. More than he realises.
The darkness folds up into itself with a loud fluttering noise, and now all he sees is a beige space, with nothing on it, as far as he can see.
He doesn't know where he is or what this is but is mildly amused to realise that this nothingness is barely better than the fetidness he was in before.
He sees purple dust coming from his hands at the same time he wishes there were trees here.
Trees appear and his palms vibrate and zap.
He gasps.
He silently wishes for more trees.
More trees appear.
He gets excited now and grins as he paints a starry sky of purple and a ground carpetted with yellow flowers, as well as a thick forest of trees.
He looks up to a bright moon.
So bright and big and so strong.
He gazes at it lovingly, laying down on the bed of flowers.
The trees look on with a smile.