Something was there, right there. Amongst the terrain stood a person, it faced him. He was unsure of where he was. Somewhere seemingly familiar but not quite so, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't figure it out. The same went for the person in front of him. It spoke to him, but no words came out. For whatever reason he only knew that the words that were supposed to be spoken were in a friendly tone. It stepped towards him, coming to within arm’s reach. It put a hand on his shoulder and spoke without words again. It was hard to describe but he felt… happy.

His eyes opened to the ceiling of his dorm. He groaned attempting to stretch out the usual kink his pillow left on his neck. The room was probably smaller than some closets, even smaller was his half of the room, the other shared by his roommate. A stream of words went through his head to describe the dream. He settled on “mocking.”

The drone of three separate fans, needed to keep the room cool, threatened to put him back to sleep, he resisted by sitting up. He slid into a pair of pants and changed shirts. The chair to his desk made a wooden clunk as he pulled it out to sit down. The desk was piled with papers and books. Among them was a small notebook. Instinctively, he flipped to the calendar to see what needed to be done. There was nothing written but a small “X” on that day.

“Today's the day,” he grumbled.

He slid the notebook into his pocket along with his keys and wallet and headed out the door. He hesitated, checking his pockets for his things making sure he put them in there, despite knowing he did moments before.

* * *

A car pulled into the empty parking lot and went into the closest spot. After a few minutes it shut off and a young man stepped out. He walked back to the trunk, opened it, and pulled out an old backpack. He slammed the trunk shut and sighed. He pulled his keys out and hit a button on the fob. The car beeped. He walked to the other end of the parking lot and followed the first trail he came across.

Trails like these dotted the road side, marked by small signs and an equally small parking lot. They were maintained, mostly, but this one in particular seemed devoid of any sort of use. For all he knew, he was the sole user of this trail. He walked for a time until the forest surrounded him, then stopped. Scanning the brush, he spotted a fallen tree.

“That’ll make a good seat.”

Breaking trail he made his way towards it. Sitting down, he looked around. Reaching behind him, he put his backpack on his lap and opened it. Within was a variety of things. He sifted through the bag.

“I really need to stop leaving things in here.”

He stopped to pull out a small box, examined it briefly, let out a huff, then put it back and continued searching. Once again, his hand found another item and fished it out. It was a handgun. It had been left in there since he last put it in, whenever that was. He held it in his hand and inspected it. It was a Colt M1911, the A1 variant to be exact. He admired it, a design over 100 years old still being used, a prime example of exemplary engineering. This one was a sort of family heirloom, passed down from each generation since it had been received. He reached into the bag to find a magazine.

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“I know one’s here,” he mumbled.

Finally he found one, peering into the slot on its side he counted 7 rounds.

“Loaded, fully.”

His gaze shifted into the depths of the forest. Rays of light broke through the branches above.

“Things still continue as they have been. Which leads me to here. Talking to myself in the woods.”

He looked down at his hands, scarred from injuries long past.

“Do you ever think that life is just a dream?” He paused.

“Only dreams could be so... confusing.”

For a time, he sat there on the stump, quiet and motionless. Eventually he began talking to himself once again:

“Does some sort of god of this cruel dream realm exist?” He chuckled.

“These are the ramblings of the clinically insane, Jack.”

“But just in case…”

He looked towards the sky.

“I’ll close my eyes and on the count of ten you’ll wake me up, deal?”

The birds chirped in response. He closed his eyes and walked around stumbling in the foliage. A stable gust blew through the forest.

“I wonder, does the dream world cease to exist when I close my eyes?”

The tree in front of him proved otherwise. He hit it with a dull thud.

“N-No,” he rubbed his forehead.

“It's probably been ten seconds…”

His eyes opened to more forest. Despite knowing the outcome, he groaned in disappointment.

“W-Wait a minute,” Jack looked around.

“How far did I walk?”

The foliage was different from that by the fallen tree, far too different. He bent down to inspect a shrub at his feet.

“I’ve been to this trail a million times and never seen a plant like this.”

Its flowers had a multitude of colors, almost as if it were iridescent. The branches were mostly exposed, sparsely populated with pale green leaves. Each leaf was attached at a broad base. There were many like this among other both familiar and unfamiliar plants.

“What the hell…” he stood up. “Where am I? Where’s my seat?”

It was there some distance away with the rest of the forest. But something wasn't right.

“Now that's… uhh.”

Jack attempted to process what he was seeing. There was a sort of aperture that hung in the air. All around it was the strange forest but inside its border was the fallen tree.

“Aww shit,” he said, defeated. “I really have lost it.”

He cautiously made his way towards it. At about halfway the aperture began to shift. It was shrinking.

“W-w-wait! Stop!” he yelled.

With the wind to his front, Jack B-lined for it and dove for the opening only to eat dirt. He swiftly got to his feet and spun around.

“God-dammit, you can't just do that!”

After frantically running around looking for any sign of the aperture Jack sat down in the grass. The birds chirped with a familiar but equally unusual response.

“Shit.”