I never remember my dreams. I found myself in a black and white room. The slip between conscious and unconscious was so clean I hadn't realized it happened. Although, maybe the beginning of dreams always felt like that. I don't know, like I said I don't usually remember my dreams.
Everything about the dorm was the same, except Fiddleford was missing. The closer I looked I began to realize everything was distorted. The more I focused on an object the more it began to change. Every time an object would shift into something new I'd forget that it was ever anything else. Unless I focused really hard on the fact that it was happening.
I couldn't shake this eerie feeling that I was being watched. I set down a snow globe that used to be an alarm clock, to inspect more details of whatever this was. I tried to leave the room, the door made a sound like it had opened, and I was out in the hall, but the door never opened. Instead Id just appeared on the other side, like a glitch. The hall was a blinding white, with impressions of doors that I couldn't physically see, but knew they were there. I followed the sound of music, the same kind I'd heard in the gymnasium back home. I pushed through the wall as if it were a curtain, it felt like moving through gelatin. Not that I knew what that felt like.
I found myself in a maze of mirrors.
"Well, Well, Well," a disembodied voice echoed.
"I've had my eye on you," the voice taunted, booming so the room shook and a thousand eyes looked at me through the mirrors reflection. I backed into a mirror.
"Boo!" it called from right behind me. I jumped, my nerves were on high alert.
A bright yellow light floated towards me. It was too bright to look at head on, but its reflection or reflections showed in the mirrors. As it came closer its reflection changed, like the things in my room. It looked like a small pudgy man with sharp green teeth, disgustingly bald, and missing one eye. In another it was tall, and fancily dressed. It shifted from humanoid to just a shape, with horrifying deformities that became beautiful features and melting together all over again. Finally it came face to face with me.
My eyes had adjusted to its divine light. What I saw was a triangle with one eye and a top hat, extending a hand to me.
Something in me compelled me to take his hand. As I did visions filled my mind of horrifying things I could not describe, and bowls of spaghetti in the woods. It all came to a painful end as I saw myself as an old man, dying in the mirrors. My chest tightened painfully, and I gurgled falling to the ground. High pitch laughter cut through me as it mocked my weirdly timed demise.
I shot up in my bed, covered in greasy sweat and panting. I startled Fiddleford who spilled a cup of hot coffee on himself. He danced around the room gasping in pain.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" I moved to help, but tripped over my own blanket and fell to the ground. Fiddleford then tripped over me and we were both on the ground entangled in our own foils.
"Let me help you with that," Fiddleford offered. He unrolled me from my cotton prison.
"Thanks," I laughed awkwardly to hide my embarrassment.
"Now, let me help you," I said, moving to wipe the coffee with my sheet. Fiddleford's chest was pounding so hard I could feel it at the touch. It must be all the adrenaline. I couldn't stop causing chaos around me, and I was beginning to become numb to the feeling of embarrassment. Everything I did seemed to inconvenience someone else or embarrass me, a lot of the time it was both.
"Awe don't fuss over it," Fiddleford smiled, pushing my hand away.
"The shirt'll need to be washed. I reckon I might be able to save it, but it's just a shirt," he laughed, pulling it from his body.
"The shirt," I said as I was pulled right from my thoughts and into reality. Fiddleford was lean and muscular underneath his baggy cotton shirts. He also had a pretty bad farmers tan.
"WOW," I said. He turned red and looked away.
He seemed to be at a loss for words.
"I'll have what he's having," I laughed, showing him my scrawny pale abdomen. His eyes widened like I'd just offended him. Did I offend him?
"I have to do laundry," he declared, quickly leaving the room.
