Work Text:
You walked, and you fell, and you found yourself in a strange village. Your eyes saw colors of pink and green and bright fluorescent teal, and the trees looked as though they were made of cotton candy. The smell wafting through the air was pungent, sweet, and suddenly, you found yourself wanting to drink the air itself as though it was a hot, sugary liquid. You saw strange, abstract figures doubling over, wreathing, but not moving as humanly as one would find comfortable. They must be as joyful as anyone else in this cloud of sweet, sweet, liquid. After all, you simply cannot imagine anybody who would be unhappy drinking the air as you are. There seems to be a green tint to the village now, and suddenly, you cannot move as well as you did a moment ago. Your eyes fail you and it seems the liquid is going black. What a shame.
You find yourself in a barren, ugly field. The grass is not alive anymore- something probably ate too much of it. The remains are bloody and orange. The sky matches the field, a deep yellow painting the clouds. It would be quite a beautiful scene, if there were not strange people dancing all over it. They seemed trance-like, dancing uncontrollably, unblinking. You cannot help but wonder if you should join them. It seems very pleasant if no one is even taking a rest to drink some of that sweet, sugary sulfur from your last home (although, you can’t quite recall where you remember it from) If you join the humans dancing, you most likely will not be able to stop until the men find a cure for the epidemic. And, suddenly, the humans start dropping one by one to the ground, almost as if they are dying as the grass below them did long ago. And you fall, too, the grass stabbing your skin like a thousand knives.
You find yourself in a school for those who are young (you faintly recognize the school, as if you resided there in a past life. Queer). Three girls, at least, you think they are girls, but you can’t seem to remember what a girl looks like, or even what a girl is, are laughing. Almost like laughing gas. Isn’t laughing supposed to be fun? Why do these girls look uncomfortable? Are they scared? Are you scared? And everyone else is laughing, too. How strange. Everyone seems to be laughing except you. There’s nothing funny going on, but they choose to laugh anyway. What a queer way to see life. And suddenly, you start laughing too, at absolutely nothing. It’s a liminal feeling, almost as if your head has deconstructed and swirling around and going dark.
And this time, you do not find yourself. There is nothing there, it is only darkness. There is no heaven, there is no hell, there is no scale to weigh the good and bad things that you’ve done. It is dark.
It must be those darn June Bugs.