Cloud Chasers

seventeen | the persistence of memory [pt. three]

She lay on the bed, metal ball in hand, and closed her eyes. She took deep breaths, thought about her reality, but her mind kept drifting off.

When she realized the silence was bothering her, she put on her earbuds and played some Vaporwave music.

The music eased her mind and allowed her to think about her reality in peace.

She didn't catch the moment when her lucid thoughts turned into something she wasn't controlling, but she didn't wonder about it, either.
This reality's cyberpunk-esque Okin was mashing with her reality's version, so she switched her mind to something else.

That 'something else' didn't turn out to be what she had in mind, though. She was in the middle of a desert, bright sun burning her skin, nothing but dunes and blue sky in the distance, wherever she turned.

Spiraling lines and geometrical patterns invaded her eyesight. Phosphenes, she knew this would happen.

A ten-foot tall armadillo appeared in the desert, right before her.

Her skin tingled, itched, but when she went to scratch, it wouldn't go away. She looked down, her hands were still on her thighs. She lifted one hand, felt it lifting, but didn't see it move.

She glanced back at where the armadillo was. Gone. But now there was something in the far distance. She squinted, it was a person. It appeared closer to her, at once. She jumped, felt something slipping away from her hand, so she tightened it.

She looked at her hand, nothing was in it, and it wasn't tightened. Her eyes went back to the man in the distance, he was now standing inches away from her.

She jumped again and took a couple of steps back, only to find herself back where she started. She repeated the action a number of times, no results.
The man stood silent in front of her, wearing an electric blue suit and tie. Only when she inspected him, she noticed his face was featureless. No eyes, no nose, no mouth; just hair and eyebrows.

His hair caught fire. She felt her hair lifting on her arms and neck. She stumbled around, panicking, but her movements lasted only one second. She would always return to standing perfectly still.

The man's whole body caught fire, now. She felt her heartbeat racing. The man extended a hand on fire toward her, but it switched back to his side, so he extended it again, but it went back down, so he extended it again, back down, again, down, again, down.

She brought her hands to the sides of her face, except she didn't. She ran away, but she stood still.

"Stop!" she shouted, and heard lights switching off. The desert disappeared, along with the man on fire.

An old woman appeared in the darkness, a spotlight on top of her. She was completely naked, her decaying body standing right in front of Joyce.
Joyce shook her head in looping motions, until the old woman turned into Kuni. She wasn't wearing her gangster apparel, so she knew it was her. Except her face was upside down inside her head.

Joyce screamed but nothing came out. The lights turned back on, they were in her room. Her good old room back in her reality.

She smiled at the mess on the floor and on the desk. Before she knew it, she was by the desk, examining a book. The words printed on it didn't make sense, but she recognized the smell; it was Peter Charming's Dear Future.

The lights turned off again, the book vanished from her hands. A spotlight shed light on Peter Charming, on his knees. "Dribkcalb Ecyoj," he said, his voice slowed down, sounding eerie. "Will you marry me?"

A loud, metallic thud followed and startled her, the ground disappeared from under her feet and she fell back on Peter's bed, her eyes opened. He was staring at her, sitting at his desk, with a hand on his chest.