His head spins. He didn't know where he was. When he opened his eyes, he was met with a messy collection of colors. It took awhile to figure out — they were objects, but vaguely represented by blurry images instead. There was no detail, just a vague shape consisting of one color for each one. It made his head ache. He wanted to look away, but couldn't.

He sat in the middle of the visual chaos with no idea what to do. Though, really, he didn't wanna do anything. He didn't wanna be here. He didn't wanna be anywhere at all. He wanted to sleep, so he lies down on the spot that he stood.

He tried to close his eyes, but his eye lids kept opening. He didn't know why, but he found that annoying and made his eyes feel like that they were drying. It was concerning, but what can he do? All he could do is accept his bad luck and try to deal with it. It was basically his whole life at that point.

He tried again and again to sleep. He rolled over and over, trying to get the best position to sleep. But still, it was hard to sleep. He felt incredibly drowsy that he might actually close his eyes for years.

As he was readjusting his position he felt his touch someone with his toes.

"Ah, sorry!" He jolted up into a sitting position with a mix feelings of shock and sheepishness.

When his gaze met, he was met with a young girl. Appearance wise, she was young possibly 8 years old. The girl's hair is brown and tied into a ponytail. She wore a grey hoodie and a skin tight and very short denim shorts. It was a type of clothing that really that does not fit a child. As expected, she wasn't very tall, perhaps a little bit over half his height.

When he looks at her, he had a feeling of apprehension. Though, the longer he stared, the more she became familiar to him. Yet, at the same time, he didn't know her. It was a contradictory feeling. What connection could he have with a girl younger than ten?

There was something terrible coming, he didn't know what, but he felt it. He looks away out of awkwardness as he realized he was staring at an 8 year old girl that he didn't even know. There was nothing he could say. He didn't know what to say or do at the moment. But then again, when did he know what to do about anything?

As the thoughts swirled, the world became a collection of black and gray.

("What should I do? What can I do?")

"What can YOU do?" The girl spoke finally.

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He looked at her, he didn't know what to do anything else though. It was annoying. But what can he do about that? He was at a loss. His expression is as blank as a professional poker player. Yet, a hole was burning through his chest. He didn't know how to show that.

("Now what?")

He now sat at a field. The girl turned into his very familiar laptop. It sat there and on the screen it said: "Chapter 1. Nothing Else." That was annoying.

He saw it, he had a story. He puts his hands out and tried to type words. But he couldn't write anything. When he looked around in his vicinity he was confused, uncertain and the figure of apprehension still clung on to his heart as if it was desperate to stay alive.

("Please let go...")

He knew that was pointless, no matter how much he pleaded, it will not let go of him so easily.

He tried to write again to remove it's clutches. He wanted to fill the hole with something. He needed a piece and he was certain that this was it.

He wrote to fill a gap, but it breaks down as he wrote. Something stopped him from finishing his work. Just like most things, he didn't know what that was, but it was something. The hole remains. He tries again. He hits a wall. It repeats.

He was getting sick of it, but he need to fill it with something. His chest hurts. His heart feels like it was slowly sinking in quick sand. He felt lost. The world around him was jumbled, but the people lived like nothing was wrong.

He continues to write again. Nothing. He repeats. He rewrites chapter one again after so many time. There was so many that he had already lost count. Why can't he move despite his desire to? He couldn't answer it, yet he was the only one who can.

Tentacles began to surround him. He wasn't sure about them, but he couldn't care. He didn't wanna care.

"Selfish." Whisper enter his ears.

"I don't care!" He shouted.

As the tentacles began to surround him and take hold of him firmly, he saw the girl again. Laying on... something. He didn't know. He didn't wanna think about it. He didn't wanna remember it all. It was too...

He was falling off a building that he apprently. It was freeing. A fantasy. Something he could never achieve. He wanted it. But he didn't like it.

His eyes opened and he sat on his bed.

("A dream...") He thought.

The night felt cold and biting. He rests his head. He felt the same as he was when he was in his dream.

His dream were getting odd as of recently. Though, he didn't particularly care just like with anything. His head hurts. He didn't know what time it was, but it was still night.

Tears began to fall, he was confused as to why. He didn't wanna cry. He wasn't sad, he shouldn't be, there was no reason. Then, why does he have tears? He didn't know. He wasn't sure on how to know about it.

("Maybe if I sleep, it'll go away.")

There was no basis for that whatsoever. But he had no other solutions.

("I should be okay... I will be okay tomorrow.")