When the Water's Dried

Apple Valley

CW: Mentions of being drunk

A soft, full-size mattress cushioned Luna's back, breaking her fall. For a few seconds, she lay there, petrified with her hair sprawled out, panting rapidly as it was now safe for her to breathe again. Once she got her bearings together, she confusedly stared up at the ceiling, as mere seconds ago she narrowly escaped a wildfire. While she was glad to not be falling down an endless void this time, things were just getting stranger, starting with the vines.

Sitting up against the bed frame, she adjusted her ice blue eyes to the darkness, absorbing the rooms' contents. The walls bordering her were horizontally divided into half by color, with a muted purple on top and ashen black on the bottom. Black damasks coated the muted purple halves.

Sliding off the black satin-blanketed bed, Luna carefully walked up to the full-length mirror on the opposite end. Thanks to the light that seeped in from underneath the closed door, the mirror was slightly illuminated, enough for her to get a clearer view. She stared into it to see where she'd need to apply burn cream or exfoliator, only for her confusion to grow stronger. No burn marks, no singed hair, no soot on her skin or clothes.

Luna moved her fingers all over her face, where pale, smooth skin pillowed them. She ran her hands through her jet black hair, all the way down to the ends. She retracted her hands to look at them, but found no soot present. Though Luna felt a little relieved that she could confirm the blazing flames were just a horrific nightmare, the coughing from the smog and the pain from the extreme temperature felt very real. Too real.

As she resumed her look into the mirror, the reflection's background revealed aspects she failed to notice prior. The light that reflected off the mirror gave some shine to the Depeche Mode poster above the bed. A black nightstand stood by the bed's right side, with an LED lantern sitting on top. And to the nightstand's right was a built-in closet with a sliding door.

This is my old room...in my old house...back when Mom and Dad were still alive, Luna realized. She turned around to get a direct look at her personal belongings, then furrowed her eyebrows. What was she doing here? Why were all her things still here? She moved it all into her apartment, where she should've escaped from her nightmare instead. Well, everything except for the damask wallpaper, as her apartment landlord forbade painting the walls or putting anything else on them that would be permanent.

Luna paused her thoughts as the sound of light chattering interrupted her. Twisting around over to the source, she went over to the door and opened it, now being able to hear more of the discussion. She silently prayed they weren't movers or potential buyers. As she cautiously ambled down the wooden stairs, she picked up more bits and pieces of the conversation. Some voices sounded...familiar.

She reached the last step, where she saw a handful of people whispering to each other in the kitchen. Four of them were adult couples, while the other four were in Luna's age group, the youngest having to be twelve. Upon hearing the new pair of footsteps, they all simultaneously popped their heads up at Luna, as if they were waiting for her.

"Oh, look, Luna's awake!" The oldest of the teens announced.

"Happy birthday, Luna!" everyone else cheerfully exclaimed.

The two that stuck out to her were a woman with long, dark auburn hair, and a man with light brown hair, both appearing to be in their early-to-mid forties.

"Mom...Dad?" Luna got off the last step and stood paralyzed on the hardwood floor. She rubbed her eyes to ensure this wasn't a dream. When she reopened her eyes, everyone was still there. Refusing to lower her guard, Luna traipsed towards the kitchen. As she made it into the doorway, a bright, lucid, gateway-like entrance materialized.