A room. Cluttered full of objects and colors. She looked first at her hands. Adult hands. She felt relived to see it. Then she found it easy to search around for the sparkling glimmer of iridescent light that often kept her company in sometimes restless bouts of sleep. Who talked through anything and everything with her. She could use in this moment someone to talk through with but like every night these past couple months she found herself alone in the room. She looked through the new and rearranged the little figurines left out.

  She knew this was a dream. That her little bits of proof that she’d been there would mean nothing but she still did them. Until her head started to hurt and she sat down. On the lumps of fabric thrown together in something like a bed. She laid down and snuggled into the warmth. Taking comfort in this imaginary world, that didn’t need to make as much sense as the world she was in when she was awake.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Ula scoffed at herself. How was she different from her father, making up delusional escapes. Making up a person that she could always confide in. A person that never really existed. One that she never fully remembered when she woke up.