Melody of the Holoverse

Episode 3: Mortal of Miracles

I lie atop the colossal cloud, sinking into the warm surface as placidity washes over my being. Up high swirls a colorful sky of pinks and oranges, pleasing my gaze. No sun; although, a symphony of stars does beautify the space with their dazzling radiance.

I feel so . . . whole.

I know this feeling. I know it all too well: The fuzziness of a cozy existence, where the woes of reality have yet to taint my blood with ink, where rainbows are much more than an innocent myth.

But this heaven won't last; that much is true.

Sooner or later, the truth will spill through, and this angelic fantasy will be reduced to a wasteland of aches and agony.

Look.

There goes a star now.

And another.

And another.

Please.

Don't leave me.

On my chest, the small golden bunny scoots up to lick away my endless tears.

* * *

Something warm, brushing against my face, right below my eye. A kind touch.

"There, there."

I blinked a few times, shaking off the grogginess. And when my vision finally cleared up, I found myself staring at an unfamiliar face, in an unfamiliar space.

"It'll be okay."

In a panic, I jerked myself around, right off the bed I'd been laying in. The soreness of my body whined as I tumbled onto the trimmed carpet.

The stranger winced. "Ooh . . . That's my bad. Probably shouldn't just go around touching other people's faces."

Despite her lax attitude, I kept myself on edge, peeking over the bed at her. A young girl, she was, her age similar to my own. However, her stature leaned towards the shorter side, her skin smooth and her complexion fair. Down to her nape, hair shaded like charcoal fell gracefully, the back tied into a small bun with a bundle of strands made to point upward; its end, as well as the bangs on either side of her face, basked in a dull yet lovely yellow. To tie it all, a clip shaped like a fish pinned itself beside her rich blue eyes. Her clothing consisted of an oversized, unzipped hoodie hued black and white, a mini skirt, and simple shoes. A touch of gold could be admired throughout, from the drawstrings to the bow tied around her shirt underneath.

"You okay?" she asked me.

I didn't answer, my gaze scurrying across my surroundings.

I was in a sumptuous bedroom, the size big enough to be its own miniature house. Everywhere I looked, luxurious furniture greeted me, from cushioned seats to dresser drawers composed of the finest marble. Even the bed I leaned against shimmered with opulence, wide enough to easily fit three of me. No windows to gaze through; only a fine collection of paintings, each depicting tales of the great deep as they complemented the walls striped white and cerulean. A sizable chandelier hung from the curved ceiling, its ends decorated with tiny orbs of light powerful enough to mimic a portion of the sun's glow.

What got me was what I didn't find.

"Grandpa's stuff . . ." I gasped. "His bag! His gun!"

I dipped into a full-blown panic attack.

"Hey, hey." Tenderly, the stranger rested her overly long sleeve on my hand. "It's okay. We put your stuff away while you healed up. They're in a safe space. Don't worry."