am i 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 again?

the sound of the tv in the other room startles you awake. is that, like, an EAS alert? huh. as you scramble off of the dusty couch, the alert becomes steadily louder, but you still can't hear what it's saying. the dim light from the bulbs on the ceiling fan begins to flicker. the tv goes to static. must be another storm coming through. thunder rumbles overhead and you open the curtains to see– nothing. it's perfectly sunny and beautiful outside. the tv flickers back to life, and the lights go back to dimly buzzing. maybe it was just a *dream*, you think. you nonchalantly walk into your bedroom, where the tv is on and working normally again. no warning across the top of the screen. nothing. slightly unnerved, you turn off the tv and walk to the other side of the house, where the door is. you cautiously open it and walk out into the sunshine. there's a package on your doorstep. it's soaking wet and fairly beat up– almost as if it had been delivered during a storm. you bring the package inside and open it. inside there's a single VHS tape and a small piece of crumpled notebook paper. nothing else. you take the tape and naïvely put it into the old, passed-down, antique player you have on the kitchen table. it's very scratchy and distorted, but you think you can make out what appears to be a lot of creepy pictures of abandoned places. an empty mall food court. a long hallway. a rejected arcade machine, all alone in the corner of a vacant arcade. they all seem... vaguely nostalgic. you've never been to any of these places... why do you feel a sense of attachment to them? in an attempt to brush off the uneasy feeling you're developing, you decide to open the piece of paper. in the middle of the paper are... coordinates. coordinates to what? you have no idea. all you know is that those coordinates opened something. something strange. something indescribable. something that doesn't exist. something... dreamlike. your vision goes blurry, your head pounds, and all you can hear is the incessant buzzing of the dim fluorescent lights you wake to the sound of a staticky, glitchy tv. is that, like, an EAS alert? huh. you're in a simple room with nothing but a couch, a staircase, and an old-fashioned box TV. you feel like you've been there before. you can't put your finger on it. you go to see what the tv is saying. something about bad weather. you look out the window to see if anything is happening. nothing is happening. except– why does the landscape look... almost computer-generated? all the houses look the same. the sky looks too... still. the grass is all the same length. there– there are no shadows. you wonder what would happen if you were to go outside. you open the front door and cautiously step outside into– the back of an airport. it's empty. the vending machines and the gate signs are all that is on. there's nobody there. it doesn't look very run-down, it just looks as if the entire place has been evacuated suddenly. but even though it's empty, you still have a sense that– that there's a presence with you. logic tells you that you're just confused and disgruntled, but you feel that something is just around the corner, watching... waiting. you creep warily around, waiting for someone (something?). for there to be any sign of life. for anything that isn't the hum of the vending machines. of course, there's nothing. there's always nothing. nothing here is real, a part of you whispers. you want to go back. you want to go back to... where did this even begin? your memory is muddled. was it the room with the TV and the staircase? was there something before that? surely that's all there was... right?  

the sound of music in the distance stirs you. what happened? you think. you were just standing in the empty airport... how long have you been here? hours? days? weeks? as you regain consciousness, the music becomes clearer. it's playing over what sounds like a speaker farther away in the airport. it's slow and distorted, but it reminds you of what you think you used to call jazz music. it fills your mind with an odd sense of comfort and nostalgia, even though you'd never heard it before... had you? you cleared your mind of such thoughts and tried to just enjoy the music. it was lovely, but somewhat eerie and sad... it sounded like there were supposed to be lyrics over it, but it was completely instrumental. it reminded you of... of... of better times? is that it? you can't... quite... wrap your head around it. how did you get here again? confused, uneasy, and exhausted, you slowly... slowly... fall back into unconsciousness on the cold, hard, unforgiving grey floor. that's it. that's all you can recall. there's nothing left of you... of your memory... you're an empty shell wandering through the nonexistent folds of this nonexistent universe. you can't remember what it used to be like back then... if there even is a "back then..." all you have left with you is an old, useless VHS tape. maybe someone will find it... if someone exists... and you'll be able to share your story... to do something... or nothing. probably nothing. it's always nothing.