Memory Blooms

Phantasmagoria

They stepped forward, whatever shoes they wore (or lack thereof) made no sound against the tile floors. On their final judgement call, dead quiet bled from the walls, no sound reached this place. Not even their breathing. It was a void nothing, highlighting only the unwanted destination that they were forced to go. Existential dread was always present in this certain dream, always waiting, always wanting.

They grabbed the brass door handles of the immense door before them, suddenly acutely aware of the enormous, elaborate hallway they were in.

They pulled and they stumbled, they turned and they leaned. A flash of light, a different scene.

Walls of clouds, too sunny and bright. Underneath and around them, bathed in twilight. They stood on an invisible floor, allowing them to see the clouds below. Where exactly they were, was more than they could know.

They placed a hand down on the small, silver table. (Where it came from, they didn't know.) Their hand phased through it like a mirage, wavering like a reflection in water they couldn't feel. Lightheaded, they felt so, so lightheaded, and from that would've usually come a sense of drowsiness. Of which rising panic would then swiftly pull the rug from underneath them.

In normal circumstances, at least.

All of it was there, the headache, the panic, the pain. But in this strange realm, they felt disconnected from themself. From the emotions and instincts that had been ingrained in their pathetic little head since they were a child. Run, be quiet, hide, de-escalate, avoid, withdraw...

Sleep.

"Ah hello! It's good to know you could make it." A voice greeted them warmly from all directions. You noticed how familiar it was, from the slight echo to layered pitch variations that followed the voice like white noise. Wait...

You?

"Hm, still having a bit of trouble with the lucidity it seems. Allow me..."

—

You gasped, blinking your eyes open as your head shot up from the pillow. The thunderous palpitations of your own heart resounding loudly in your ears, and all that "panic" from before was suddenly very, very real. You shakily inhaled, aggressively rubbing at your face with quivering hands when you could feel the tears begin to form. You had to calm down, you needed to. You couldn't–you can't–

You can't let them catch you like this, remember what happened last time.

You inhaled again, less shaky this time. The irises of your eyes briefly glowing a sharp lime green before fading back to their normal color as you exhaled steadily.

A small breeze blew in from a nearby window, blowing past your face, and it all came rushing back to you. Leaving you quite confused.

There wasn't supposed to be wind, not here. Not in space, which is where you last remember being. You were still in space right? Had Hat Kid kicked you out after you fell asleep? Had you fallen asleep?? Not that you would put it past her if she did, you probably had overstayed your welcome anyway–

"Hello!" You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of a voice directly in your right ear. Causing you to fly off the bed and land painfully on the floor.

"Oh stars!! I'm terribly sorry, are you alright?!" The voice spoke again. It was a smooth tenor voice, though the echoes of fluctuating pitches still accompanied it. You couldn't help but think that whoever had a voice like that would kill on karaoke night.