The way I feel right before waking up has always been something I’ve considered to be truly peaceful. The way my whole body feels so pleasantly heavy, as if it was something we agreed upon. The weight of my ideas, the ideas I didn’t even conscientiously conjure, they all push down on me so intensely that they disable many of my senses. In this state, I am completely at the mercy of my own slumbering mind. It holds me captive, yet I am not upset. I do not want to be torn away from it. It’s a pathetic and sickening sort of dependency, really. Even so, it is not nearly as sickening as the smell that ripped me out of my peaceful sleep. The scent of old tar and dry wind makes its way into my nose. My whole body is stunned by the return of reality. Well, I suppose this wouldn’t exactly be the return of my reality. The place I find myself in now is a place I’ve never been before. I am laying in the middle of a road. It is a road like nearly any other, yet it is unfamiliar. There is something slightly different about where I am now, something that doesn’t seem quite right. The road is a cracked fading black with weak yellow dashes marking the middle. After getting over my initial shock, I fumble off into the sandy expanse surrounding the mysterious road. Not a single car has passed by since I recovered my senses, and there isn’t another living creature in sight. The wind begins to rip at my body, trying desperately to get me to give in. It wants me to move, hell I want to move, but I’m not sure where I would even go. Every direction I turn to is completely desolate. My instincts lay dormant, they refuse to spare me even the slightest idea of what comes next. I know I cannot stand around forever waiting for some unseen guidance. If I just wait here doing nothing, I’ll be pummeled with raging sand. Hesitantly, I start walking along the side of the road, the whirring wind as my only company. My thoughts are bouncing back and forth between my hunger, my confusion, and my possible plans. My movement has no purpose, I am going nowhere. I pay close attention to each crack and dip in the endless road, but it all just melts together. Everything I see before me is so mundane and expectable, yet it still feels strangely foreign. I can identify every little thing before me, but I know this is my first time encountering them here. Time continues to pass, but nothing seems to change. The sky is a clear blue, without a cloud in sight. It appears to me as an unwavering solid color. The sandy ground beneath me is completely flat aside from the occasional patch of dying grass. The road is running towards the horizon, but I will never meet it at the finish line. I am weak, tired, and only motivated by the pain of tiny shards slapping at my skin. Walking feels more strenuous than ever before. Each step sends a shock wave through my body, making this process all the more painful. It is agonizing, and it forces me to completely zone out in order to retain my sanity.

Before I know it, the wind has begun to die down as the blue sky collapses into a blazing orange. This marks the first change that I have seen in what I can only assume to have been hours. My surroundings start to glow with vibrant shades of yellow and orange. Looking out into the burning horizon is like waking up all over again. It is a powerful distraction from my present situation. I can’t help but stare into the sun, even though it is tempting to blind me. It is a glorious oasis, my first shred of hope in this barren desert. The light radiating off of the flaming sun has charged at me with all of its might, and I am in no place to deny its ambition. I simply hope that it will share it with me. The heat the sunset is passing on to me is far more timid than what I was offered by the previous blue sky. The warmth I feel now is less the searing sensation of a newly lit fire, and more the final dying embers of a retired flame. It is the perfect temperature, and a true relief from what I had been experiencing up until now. Still, that relief evidently cannot last forever. The smoky clouds begin to trail away from the waning sun, and the sky itself begins to settle into a deep blue. Just as that fragment of hope was born, it was ripped away from my world. 

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There is only so much one person can take. This long, monotonous, unavoidable path I’ve mistakenly taken could very well be the death of me. Each step, each grueling step, is a reminder of the inexplicable situation I’ve found myself at the center of. All this pain, all this confusion, all this hunger… What am I still trying for? Not once have I stopped walking. I have stayed loyal to this path with the ignorant belief that it would amount to something. I finally bring myself to a halt. I lower myself to my knees, and I attempt to spread my lips. They are chapped, and feel as though they are glued together. They split open painfully, and some life is given back to my dry mouth. Swallowing and moving my tongue has become quite a challenge, but it still doesn’t stop me from screaming out to no one. 

    “Wake up! Wake up!” I want this all to be a dream. Even if I could be rescued, if this is real, something is undeniably significantly wrong right now. If this is real, someone put me here on purpose. Or worse yet, I brought myself here without even realizing it. Even if someone saved me right now, this nightmare would not end because I am still awake.

    “Please! Please, just wake up!” My voice is dry, and my mouth tastes sour. I’m so dehydrated that it’s making me wither. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was laying out here for days before awakening. 

    “Please wake up, Alexander.” My yelling is fruitless. This is reality, and I cannot continue to deny that. Still, soon enough I will slip back into an actual dream.

    I am thoroughly processing each breath I take. Every movement of my own body has been made completely apparent to me. My mind is sinking, it is slipping out of my control. Each thought I attempt to conjure is slow and incoherent now. I have no choice but to give in. Would it make much of a difference if I didn’t? Even if I tried to get back up, I would just keep walking into nothingness. 

    “Goodnight.” There is nothing more that I can do.