~ ⋆˙⟡ 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝑭𝒊𝒗𝒆 𓆩⟡𓆪 𝑪𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 ⟡˙⋆~

~ 𝑰𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 ~

“…….”

A lively mesh of voices and footsteps entered my ears. From the crevice of the tent flap, a gentle streak of violet light had stepped inside.

The room was composed of an azure fur bed and tiny floating stars. Teal walls joined together to form the shape of a pyramid, and one could touch the ceiling just by standing up.

I lifted my head, the coat that’d been used as a makeshift blanket falling off. My hand stretched out towards the entrance but paused. Had they always been this big? The thickness of my fingers felt unnatural, almost that of a teenager’s, and the bits of excess fat were nowhere to be seen. Actually, none of my movements felt familiar. They were clumsy and unbalanced, and combined with the rushing of my thoughts it wouldn’t be exaggerating to say I was intoxicated.

I stumbled outside the tent, my palm over the left half of my face. Not far away sounded to be the center of this settlement, as it contained the loudest of the indecipherable chatter. I walked the opposite direction, fearing my dizziness would worsen from the crowd.

The ground rose and fell like the spring breeze, creating ripples upon each step. The primordial flora swayed, whisking away those who tread the resplendent path.

A stone statue stood alone in the forest, strangled by vines, remnants of a once glorious figure. Subtle cracks invaded its body, signs that time had made it weary. The slightly leaning sculpture stared into the sun, hoping to dry its tears from the previous rain. Moss fell from the right shoulder to its waist, hanging with an immemorial elegance. And crowning its head was the leftover snow.

Something about it felt pitiful, forgotten after losing its reverence. Upon the blanket of grass, I stared astounded whilst it stood upon its pedestal. I wondered, would it be any different if it wasn’t carved of stone? If it had the ability to speak, or if it was made of gold, would it still yearn in its last breath?

“Isn’t she charming?” The coquettish voice neared alongside footsteps harboring a blithe disregard for the world’s tenderness. Rather than bending, the grass beneath her feet seemed to part. The wind held up her hair with a sense of awe, as if in servitude. Her pupils were like jade mirrors, and one of them contained a circle of unknown symbols.

She was indescribably pretty, with a presence that was impossible to approach. Like a walking aurora, it made people lament that they had not met her earlier.

Since that day I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d forgotten something important, and sleep became rare.

“How long do you plan to stay here?” a malevolent voice echoed.

This dream again. I’m sure I knew this person, but we’d never met outside. He held a golden lantern engulfed by purple flames which slowly climbed his arm and descended upon the small wooden boat. The right side of his face was charred. His hair was combed back, a neat white with a brush of black. I watched from afar, dazed. The last time I was ashore. Now, the dark water had swallowed my shins, the occasional cold waves crashing above my knees.

“We’re near the eye.”

The atmosphere grew thicker, and a smell of death pervaded my senses. Before a breath had passed, I was drained of the energy to respond. An icy chill corrupted my fingertips, and an ever-growing ringing persisted in my eardrums. My vision dimmed, recalling a memory that I’d suppressed that winter. Behind the howling of the cold winds and the resonating lullabies hid a faint high-pitched scratching. The whining of a newborn, the clock that refused to continue ticking, the need to close the curtains so that shadow wouldn’t come in.

I remember. I read about him once, to ignore those irregularities.

“thank…..you…”

~ 𝑭𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝑻𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑷𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕 ~