The Lamp

The lamp's color is off.

My eyes gaze at the lamp for a brief moment. The glow softly lights up the room, casting only vague shadows around the edges, and yet my heart remains uneasy despite its simple beauty. My eyes scan the room with such a quiet fervor, quickly drifting back to the lamp. Still, unmoving as all objects should be. This should be a relief; all is well. And yet, a quiet fear claws at my heart, leaving deep wounds that bleed panic.

Again.

The color of the light is off.

My head turns to the side wall, against it is my simple dusty brown drawer with a mirror on top of it. That was normal. My eyes pierced the wall, leaning in ever so closely. The way the light is quickly absorbed by the wall rather than reflecting sends a sharp pulse through my heart. The hairs lift from my skin. I lifted my upper body, tearing the comforter away from me. Even as my feet planted on the warm carpet, the sensation of roughness couldn’t calm my irrational thoughts. Perhaps this is a dream? A nightmare? Something from that movie that everyone keeps talking about? And yet, coarse fibers on my feet tore my mind into two.

Perhaps it was in my mind. Perhaps my eyes aren't quite how they used to be. (Though I am in my early 20s) Despite the piling excuses in my head, finding some logic or sense of reason for my impending insanity that was looming.

Perhaps, just maybe, it wasn’t in my head.

Perhaps, this was real.

My trembling legs finally brought me face-to-face with the wall. Soft yet weighted down as if gravity would pull me through the floor. I eased towards the wall with a nurture of its own. I lifted my hand, light, and yet it felt so still. My clammy palm glided to the surface wall. The walls have a bumpy, cold surface, sending waves through my body. With a gentle nudge, I let out a gasp before a shout ripples through my throat. My hand is being pulled by the wall, and as quickly as it absorbed my hand, it spat it out. I stumbled, nearly falling back on the floor, but my feet managed to hold firm on the floor below. The air in my lungs is entrapped, unable to release itself, or possibly, I could not release it.

Releasing it meant that I am here, at this very moment, near a wall that defies every law from some higher being out there.

I am beginning to rationalize to myself as I step further back from that strange wall. This is my room, I repeat to myself.

Have I gone insane?

My gaze rushes to find anything that resembles a semblance of the world that I once knew before it began to crash and burn with this damned wall. Finally, my sight rests on the printed photographs of my best friend, Venessa. Each picture captures a flicker of a beautiful light. One was posing with silly faces, my cheeks blown up as a puffer fish with wide glittering eyes. My eyes darted to my desk near the window, with no gentle beams of sunrays. I am only greeted by the darkness that envelopes the room. Once again, that soft glow from that lamp was the only thing keeping me from the ever-hungry mouth of darkness.

Yet, once again.

The lamp's color was off.

It was a soft shade of princess blue, not particularly warm or cold. Yet under that strange glow, it seemed to soak up the warmth. I laughed to myself, madness creeping in. Surely this must be a sign that whatever world I am in is still my own.

Right?

I couldn't stand it. God knows the more I stay in here, the more madness would swallow me as the darkness would. Sprinted to the door, turning the knob, thankfully it opened. A hallway is revealed to me, similar to the apartment I've lived in. The bathroom is on the right side, just as it has been.

Okay, that is normal.

Perhaps this is one bad trip that I pray I will never be in. Whatever I took was summoning my madness in full display, yet I could not remember. I push the door open to my bathroom, quickly observing the surroundings. Toilet, a baby pink bathroom rug, toilet paper, toilet, everything was normal.

My eyes shifted to the bathroom mirror, above the sink, and what greeted me was not me. My face is completely mangled, hardly recognizable, and a little silver piece of metal is stuck in my left eye. Blood is all over my body and staining my clothes with a blossoming red.

I screeched, my milky brown eyes staring me down. My gaze went down to my bloody, shaky hands.

When I open my eyes, I see my reflection once again. As quickly as the image of me came, it vanished once again.

Normal.

Yet, my heart was bleeding.

I sprint back to my room, my eyes gazing back at the lamp. That same princess blue lamp, now it is becoming so clear to me- No. No, it couldn’t be; this was real. This was real. I prayed to anyone that would listen that this room was real. My tears stung my left eye. Unlike the soft watery tears, I could only feel heavy liquid dripping, thicker than tears. I let my hand touch the cheek. Gazing down at the smears of blood

The wall, the wall that absorbed all light, began to whisper to me. To come to it, to be absorbed into its darkness. My heart bleeds, and so do my eyes. This was not a dream or a nightmare. No, it was much more daunting than any of these things that I had wished to be true.

The light from the lamp was so much like a headlight from that princess blue car I had saved up much money for. I began to stand up, letting myself drift into the wall, like the light absorbed by the darkness, I did too.

Fading into a peaceful, ending sleep, yet I knew my reality was true.