With a clear target, my vision scrambled. Light and shadow jumped out at me and I swayed in confusion. I tried to see what was in front of me, but it was like my ‘on’ switch wasn’t working. I saw thing after thing but it was all just unfamiliar scenery. I was in a room with a floor, walls and even a ceiling but I couldn’t possibly comprehend what for.

It didn’t matter then, however, because my near-bursting bladder filled my attention.

I lifted my legs over the side of the bed and pushed myself up. I thought I would piss myself at that moment so I had no time to waste. I searched for a door and in my confused vision, saw only one. Walking was a problem. It was as if my muscles were not used to it, as if I were a toddler trying to walk for the first time. I stumbled. I swayed with dizziness. My vision blurred. I could feel the agonizing beat of blood pumping into my skull. The door was only two steps away, but they were excruciating steps. With every footfall I felt the impact on my bladder.

To say I opened the door would be half true. I really only fell on the door and the door gave way. I barely caught myself on my knees as I fell toward the hard packed dirt. I grunted and sucked in loudly through my teeth. I managed to stand back up only by pulling myself up the side of the wall. It was only a matter of time before the pain in my bladder left to pool in the dirt.

I leaned up against the wall heavily then and looked up, squinting. The sun was bright and made the whole sky look white. All around me giant needles were propped up, pointing to the white expanse. A breeze brushed by. Under my feet dried grass pointed up like miniature versions of the big needles. I sniffed. The air smelled dry. I listened. Nothing. I heard nothing but the pounding in my head. I breathed in. Nothing. I felt…

I went inside then, realizing I was thirsty. Inside it smelled musty and hot. Dust was everywhere. I looked to my right and found the bed I woke up in. It was high up off the ground and covered in quilts except for the place I knew I must have been lying. Next to the bed was a small fold-up table that looked like it would collapse under all the stuff piled on it. I looked to my left. There was a sink, a few cabinets, a rocking chair and coffee table. I stumbled toward the sink.

The sink was small, low and set into a counter. I leaned over it, expecting water to flow out, but nothing came. I felt dizzy again. It was hard to stand. I couldn’t understand why the sink was not spilling water for me to drink. I blinked a few times to clear my confusion before remembering the spigot had a handle for a reason. I turned it and the water came out a rusty orange.

I was impatient. The water, for all I was concerned, was water. Regardless, it did not taste like water. I spit it out angrily. Finally the water turned clear and I put my hands under it to drink. Even though I drank until my stomach churned with liquid, I still felt unsatisfied, as if there was something missing, as if there was something I should have been doing right at that moment. I stopped drinking and sat on the floor because standing was too hard. I looked around, seeing the chair, the bed, the ceiling, until I closed my eyes and saw nothing. 

The End

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