I’m walking through the forest. I don’t know how I got here. I would assume I’m dreaming, but I genuinely don’t know. I’ve tried all the classic movements and motions. Pinch myself. Punch myself. Tell myself I’m dreaming. Haven’t woken up yet. I’m scared. I never thought that I would be scared of a lucid dream. I always wanted to have one of these. I could do anything, I thought to myself. But no, this isn’t lucid. I mean, the dream isn’t lucid, but I AM lucid. This doesn’t feel like real life.
I’m still walking. The forest is getting seemingly creakier. There’s more dark corners, more heavy tree cover and foliage. The formerly green shadows and yellow glimmers through the leaves are turning brown and muddy and awful. I’m scared. The tree trunks no longer have a jolly aura. They’ve devolved into slender poles jutting out from the fern covered ground. The birch trees are white, but becoming less so. This doesn’t feel like real life.
I’m sitting down. When did I sit down? I don’t remember sitting down. I’ve planted myself on a rock covered in disgusting slimy moss. I have no idea why I thought this was a good idea. I get up from the rock in an instant. There was no time between when I was sitting and when I was standing. The branches crackling under me as I put pressure back onto my feet unnerves me. I thought I heard an echo of the sticks snapping. Sounds like it’s all around me.
I see something moving up ahead. I’m terrified of what it could be. Petrified. I’m scared. I turn around and start running. Ahead of me I see myself. Behind me I see myself. I’m the one being chased and the one doing the chasing. The me ahead of me is skinnier. They are slowing down. The me behind me is speeding up. They look more full than I am. I start crying. What is going on? I weep for myself. What has happened to me? What is going on? Why are there more of me? Finally, as I’m chasing the me ahead of me, they collapse. Looking through the woods ahead I see countless replicants of myself. Skinnier and skinnier. Eventually I start seeing exposed bones. Decay. I’m looking into my demise. I keep running so that the me behind me doesn’t catch up. I’m exhausted. I collapse, just like the me ahead of me. The me behind me collapses too. And another one. There’s more of me.
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