Message from the Moon

Chapter 1

If I was going to do anything, it was remain calm. Problem was, I was no longer in my bed or wearing the clothes I'd gone to sleep in. Which makes it a little hard to be rational and relaxed as you can probably imagine.

It shouldn't have been the hardest thing in the world for me, in all honesty. It's not like this was the first time I'd woken up in a situation like this. There's been plenty of random motels, where I'd drag my eyes open to find myself in someone else's boxers, T-shirt's, work clothes, even weird little outfits they would bring sometimes. Not the happiest time for me, personally, but it was a way to survive. Anyway, you would think staying calm wouldn't be so hard, as I should be a bit of a pro with this. It'd been years since the last time that had happened,  but I feel like it's similar to riding a bike, y'know? Never really leaves you.

The reason it was so hard to stay relaxed this time, in addition to old anxieties and itches rearing their ugly heads, was because it was definitely stranger than normal.

First of all, I know for a fact that I went to bed in my own dorm. I know because I'd just finished working on my thesis paper for psychology the night before and barely had the energy to put my pjs on before dropping into my blankets like a sack of potatoes. There definitely wasn't anyone else with me in my room as I closed my eyes. I don't even have a roommate, and my sister wasn't around to pull a crazy prank on me. She does have a key to my room, but not to the building itself. And I put a lock on the window after the time she climbed in to change all my bulbs to black lights and "decorate" in invisible ink.

Secondly, while there was once a time when my asexual ass thought nothing was worse than waking up to a crusty old man, this time managed to be... well, worse. I woke to a burning in my lungs, the stench of a just bleached hospital souring my nose. Very different from how my little dorm room usually smells, with its air purifier and oil diffuser. It was so intense I almost gagged, but at least the watering of my eyes helped me yank them open.

That rude awakening was nothing compared to what I was in store for when the spots cleared from my vision. Thankfully no creeps trying to get more than what they paid for, but my mind still reeled as I tried to focus through the last dregs of sleep, thrown off by all the chrome that hadn't been there when I'd gotten into bed a few hours previous. Nothing like any shitty motel I'd ever seen. Wait, was it a few hours? Y'know, I actually don't know.

The only familiar aspect of the pristine room was the miniature rendition of my favorite Pollock painting, Mural, that I had tried to make during my first semester of college. I had to do it during one of those studio art classes you're required to take. I completely sucked at it. Mural was the only project that had managed to come out decently, probably because I was able to actually have fun with it. Throwing paint turned out to be a pretty good way to alleviate stress. But the strength I had once attributed to its colorful chaos now looked small and orderly on the expanse of shining wall.

I had the cliche thought of "I'm dreaming" as I swung my legs over the side of the cot. And I actually convinced myself of that at first; it was just a very hyper-realistic nightmare of getting thrown in an insane asylum or something. I'm a double major in anthropology and psychology while also working a full time job, so not entirely implausible that I'd eventually end up tossed in one of those. Lot of constant stress, not enough sleep. Anyone reading this who's been to any level of school, especially if you had to work at the same time, knows how it goes. My dreams never look anything like reality, but in my panic I told myself that doesn't mean it's impossible for me to randomly have one, right? I spent enough years messing around with drugs to know the brain can come up with some pretty interesting things. But after the first few minutes, my mind had cleared away enough drowsiness to be all too aware that I was, indeed, awake.