-17th Rest-

I had the dream with my meemaw again. At least, I think it was a dream? It’s becoming harder and harder to tell the difference between sleep and waking anymore. The lines between them are blurring. In this dream, my meemaw looked at me with concern, the way she always did when I was a child. She said I looked tired—so tired—and she told me to stay and rest. Her voice was so gentle and comforting, and I wanted nothing more than to obey, to lay down and close my eyes, to let the weight of exhaustion melt away. I could feel the pull—the temptation to stay with her, to rest as she urged.

But then, as before, the dream ended abruptly, like a door slamming shut. I woke up in the same dismal, gray world as before, the same lifeless landscape stretching endlessly before me.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Everything I have on me now is completely gray—my clothes, my rucksack, even the tent I carry. The transformation happened gradually, and now there’s no denying it. But what’s worse—when I lifted my shirt today to check myself, I saw it. A small patch of gray skin on my side.

It’s not much yet, just a spot about the size of a coin, but I know what it means. It’s spreading, and once it starts, there’s no stopping it unless you leave the Graylands. Soon, it will spread further, inch by inch, until it claims my whole body. And then… my mind, if it hasn't already.

I can feel that detachment already setting in—a dullness in my thoughts, a fog settling over my mind. I try to push it away, to stay focused on survival, but it’s harder with each passing hour. The exhaustion isn’t just physical anymore—it’s in my soul.

I don’t know how much time I have left. The patch of gray skin is a countdown, a silent reminder that my days—or maybe hours—are numbered. I have to find the edge of this place soon, before it’s too late.