2016, Upwards.

Before I could grasp anything else that was taking in control, I was dumbfounded. Upon forcing my eyes shut, I opened them to a new setting. I was no longer in the dark room, I was in a new one. This new room was flat, no furniture nor doors, nor really anything. I stumbled to my feet quickly, my breathing becoming quick as I stood, flabbergasted and in shock. This can't be- I had to have forced myself asleep. I couldn't believe my eyes as the entire room was lit, lit the color of red. The blinding, sudden color continued to only instill shock, as I turned all the way around a few times, looking for anything, and answer. It's as if all the negative mindset has departed, in exchange for the shock of this new ordeal. I frantically began looking around, to no success. There was nothing, just a bland, blank room with a haunt red hue. This makes no sense! This has to be some form of a nightmare, but it felt all too real. I felt an unexplainable appeal of peace, suddenly. I stopped my frantic search to feel a presence. This presence was live, I turned to see what it could've been. Instead of another, I saw suddenly a potted orchid. The plant was placed in the center of the room, where the red bulb above dangled, without any motion. I couldn't grasp the reality or magnitude of what was happening, so without anything else to achieve, I investigated the plant. It was a dead, dried orchid that remained strapped to the stick, of which would've assisted its furutre growth. I crouched to it, the pot seeming plain, nothing particular other than a dead flower- it brought back a fond memory that had nothing to do with this purgatory. I simply stared at it, where did this come from. How did this end up here, how did I end up here? The same silence continued to pierce my ears, as I stared down the plant. I lifted it, to my surprise seeing something under it. Engraved in the pottery was a simple word- a word that as well reminded me of an outdated, yet extremely unexplainable memory; "Gifted". The deeply engraved word within the bottom face sent a chill down my spine. The chances of all of this corresponding was unlikely, I could only think. Why would two unheard of memories turn up? I set the plant back down onto the ground, standing back up. There it was, again, as if a high-rising fume, one that'd prove noticeable when above, that feeling of peace. How the hell could I feel peace in this .. dream. This nightmare, sleeping seemingly with a terrible anguish, only to slip into this? I couldn't question it away, nor make sense of anything. Though, in the midst of rising to this peace, I looked to the back wall, the wall beyond the plant that sat. It had been altercated- fear settled somewhat. My adrenaline began to pick up as I observed the wall, speeding up to it, not believing my eyes. Upon the wall, a large mural was painted, simple with an unnerving outcome. There I saw a dripping, painted alien head. Out of everything, aliens. It seemed comical for a brief moment to me, how could this possible be? I then yelled in frustration. What does this mean!? How could I be confused, only to reach more confusion. I need answers- I CAN'T TAKE IT. I can't understand why this continued. My frustration seemingly echoed within the room, the haunting red hue overlaying as my shadow stretched across the room, bouncing against the dead orchid, as well as the mural. A typical alien head shaped remained, sitting there, almost tauntingly with these foreshadowing horrors- yet peace remained. These things recollected memories. These memories.. how could they end up here in such a manner? They had a connection, one that made the horror peaceful, a feeling that was overbearing almost, suddenly? So suddenly? This unexplainable stance of peace? I desperately began to seek an answer to this display. My conscious was numb, self process was blocked, easily. I looked around, once more, each other wall blank, nothing, no further changes, I stood in front of the only elements of which stood. I came to the realization, then. Each of the paranormal, each of the memories tied along with them, they corresponded to my mother. I stopped in my tracks as I believed what I had realized. It made sense, no matter how desolately far back each had occurred as a memory, eyes widening as I looked back up as the mural, of which has seemingly continued to drip. I wasn't sure if it were ink, as it assumably was, dark and unexplainably done. My mother had tied with these memories, as we shared many. My depression was easily dumped onto her, I thought, sitting down as I couldn't come to terms with the fact that I thought in such a situation- just thought some more. She heard everything, just about anything I had to talk about, which were seemingly endless rants upon the challenges faced. She'd be the only one, truly, in these dire times that would listen and understand to degrees I'd reach, she'd even relate to me. I was referred to as her little alien, one serious topic conversation. She would enlighten me by saying my thoughts matter, and that they'd amount, yet the barrier of opposition minds stood. She'd always tell me reassurance, but as said, I couldn't explain the darkness that'd bash against. I felt alone, I felt desolate. But for the many alike souls, those perhaps facing it worse, they were never truly alone. I looked up, immeditely being startled by a sudden figure, seen for a split second. I gasped, before such figure directly under the bulb; The bulb burst, sudden loud, extremely deafening footsteps stomped toward me, I shook, stumbling up in fimilar darkness. I couldn't help but breathe heavily, attempting to back up, before slamming against the mural wall, the dripping ink used pressing against me as the steps continued to approach, quicker, louder, before it stood inches from my face. I embraced and prepared for the absolute worse, as worse as it could get. I was still lost with all this knowledge- perhaps it was knowledge to my death as I expected and awaited a seemingly inevitable one. From the glimpse I got, I saw one of which grimly mirrored a demon. This demon was holding something I had only thought remained in thoughts, a blade. While standing in front of me, I felt a sharp pain suddenly cut through, on my chest. I screeched in agony as- as soon as it passed, it concluded. The bulb cut back on, my eyes closed, opening, I saw an absolute grisly depiction of demon staring straight back at me, yellow eyes, the color piercing the red almost impossibly, it stared straight into my eyes, my soul, and in absolute terror, I refused to look away. It simply stared, hauntingly displaying a grin, one far too wide, one that easily took the breath and sanity away. A symbol, noticeably large resided on its forehead, one seemingly fimilar, yet why? No thoughts would pass, of course. I felt blood, through the pain of which was embedded in my chest, I looked down, as I did, my shirt was ripped in the area, there laid the same symbol of which resided on its head. As I looked back up, in horror, it was the darkness once again. I jolted up, as quickly as I could. Was the dream over? No. This seemingly passed as a level, almost. I looked down at myself in the darkness, feeling as the fleshwound remained, feeling across it, the pain shot up and almost immeditely I reacted as a result. I had been marked by something, a figment it'd seem, but the truth seemingly meant nothing as I gripped the fact that this was truly a nightmare resembling reality. I felt guilt, as the demon instilled within me. I stood, frustrated and completely lost. Please, just wake up from this seemingly eternal nightmare. Nothing is adding up, I can't stumble upon myself, nor my lost nature any longer. Lost, that's it, that's all I remained before and after. However in the midst of this rise, I stood once again, there was a fimilar presence.