Where am I?

I was walking down my hallway, opened my bedroom door, and now I’m here.

I don’t know where here is, though, I can’t see anything.

Or, maybe I can, and it's just dark.

I can still feel my feet on the ground, but it's different than the soft carpet of my house.

It's cold and hard, like stone.

It actually feels more like concrete; I can feel the sharp holes where air had escaped.

I can bend down and touch the floor, that’s good.

It’s definitely some sort of concrete.

My nose can't smell anything, although there might not be anything to smell.

I’m… surprisingly calm.

I should be freaking out, trying to figure out what happened, but I suppose that wouldn’t solve anything.

Maybe I should try walking forward.

My toenails scrape the ground as I begin to walk, and it sends an uncomfortable feeling down my spine.

As I walk, I should check my pockets.

I was only wearing my sweatpants and shirt that I usually wear to bed.

Nothing on my left, my right feels like there’s a piece of paper.

If I could see, I could read it.

But I can’t even see my hand in front of my face.

Do I… even still have hands?

I think so, I should slap myself to see if I can still feel- ow!

Yep, I still have hands.

My feet are starting to get numb from the concrete.

I should’ve worn socks.

If I stop feeling my feet, I might start questioning whether they are really there.

But I can’t waste a moment, I need to keep going.

I have to find a way out of here.

Wait, was that a light flashing just there?

I think my mind is starting to play tricks on me.

Random colors are flashing, but they aren’t emitting light.

Have I blinked since I came here?

I stop walking and close my eyes.

I feel something wet sliding down my face.

The air suddenly feels warmer, the ground still feels like concrete, but it's like my feet are now wearing socks.

But when I open my eyes again, it disappears.

The warmth, the socks, all gone.

When I close my eyes again, it comes back.

Maybe, I’ll try leaving them closed for a while.

I start walking again, and immediately fall down.

The floor in front of me seems as though it was suddenly absent, like I’m falling off a cliff.

I fall for what feels like forever, until my foot lands on another surface.

It must be a staircase, I can feel it, somehow.

Carefully, I start to descend the steps.

I decide to open my eyes, maybe I can see something now?

But when I do it, all remains black.

My feet are also struck with shock as I start walking vertically again, as if I have reached the end of the staircase.

I walk backward, careful not to turn my body to not lose my faint sense of direction.

My heel bumps the last stair, and it does exist.

It must be a coincidence.

I close my eyes again and keep walking.

But instead of walking back forward towards where I was, I started going down again.

The stairs had ended, though; how can I still be going down?

The ground in front of me, I stood on it, it was flat, why is it a staircase now?

Maybe I can find a landing of some kind and walk in a different direction.

After several steps, I gave up on that idea.

I picked a single stair and followed its edge instead.

It was a small, thin surface, but it was better than going down again.

Eventually, it widened out, and I could walk comfortably again.

Wait, when did the ground feel like grass?

I bend down and surely enough, grass and dirt.

I decided to lie in it for a little while, enjoying the nature that remained invisible to my eyes.

When I opened them, it was still there, even though I couldn’t see it.

It somehow seemed dryer, though, as if my useless eyesight was somehow killing it.

I closed them again quickly, feeling the life come back to the strands of what I assumed was green around me.

Eventually, I decided I’d rested long enough, and I continued forward.

Even though I lost my way, I kept feeling the grass, so I wasn’t backtracking.

I felt something wet run down my face again, I scrunched it to make sure my eyes were still closed, until I felt another run down my arm.

Soon, I was covered in cold water.

It was raining.

The cold rain was somewhat comforting, although it made no sound when it fell.

There was a rising crescendo of rainfall; however, as I moved forward, I could hear more rain colliding with something in front of me.

As it grew in sound, I grew in caution.

What if it were a cliff and it was smacking against the edge?

What if it were a building and I was about to find my way back, or more lost in this invisible labyrinth?

Soon, I heard the noise right in front of me.

Whatever the rain was landing on, it was within arm's reach.

I reached my hand out and felt something soft.

I recognized it; it was something I had felt before.

I followed my hand and, surely enough, I found a main.

It was a horse.

It wasn’t moving, however, I found its head and put my hand in front of what should’ve been its nose, but no air came out.

Was it dead?

But then, how was it standing?

I remembered my eyes and opened them, hoping they would work.

Instead, I saw nothing, as usual.

When I felt the horse, it felt the same, still no air.

I closed them again and left the horse.

The rain had stopped, and I instead felt a warm heat.

Warmer as if the sun had just peeked out.

I felt the urge to raise my hand and block the sun from my eyes, but there wasn’t any light.

I felt stupid, but it quickly melted away when I remembered I was alone.

I felt the water slowly evaporate out of my clothes and off my skin.

It was only then that I realized how thirsty I was.

The grass turned to sand, and I found I could pick up handfuls of it.

It served no purpose other than for me to feel the tickling of sand leaving my clenched hands.

It helped me forget the great thirst I was feeling.

Suddenly, I felt myself fall into a pit of water.

I panicked, I couldn’t swim.

I flung my hands and feet as I struggled to get air.

My feet touched the bottom, and I stood up.

The water line was up to roughly my shoulders.

It was warm, but it tasted like freshwater.

I weighed the pros and cons in my head about whether I should drink the water, but the dryness in my throat won the battle.

After gulping water like a fish out of water, I focused on finding my way back to the edge of the water.

However, I found that my fall made me lose my direction again.

I decided the only way to keep going was to keep going.

I picked a direction and waded forward.

It was slower, but it was better than not moving anywhere.

The water level stayed the same, and the bottom of the area felt like a pool.

The water seemed more vicious than actual water as I moved through it.

The warmth never changed, but the texture did.

As if I were moving from a forest of H2O molecules to a different chemical compound that was unknown to me.

But even when the water splashed on my face and crept into my mouth, it tasted like normal water.

Soon, the water level began to lower.

I felt it go from surrounding me, pulling me down, to melting off.

It was like shedding my own skin.

After a grueling amount of time, I found myself out of the pool and onto what felt like the inside of a building.

The ground was carpeted, matted, and worn.

I don’t know how I could’ve known I was inside a building, but I was.

I couldn’t tell what kind of building it was based on my sense of touch, but my smell told me it was some kind of retirement home.

The smell of old perfume and vacuums overwhelmed my nose.

But my body was thankful for the loss of constant water pressure.

I walked on until I stumbled over something leathery.

It felt like an old armchair, with the seat being cracked after probably years of use.

Although that would be silly, because there didn’t seem to be anyone here.

As I sat, taking a break, I opened my eyes.

I still saw nothing, but the stench in my nose dwindled slightly.

I must have enjoyed the armchair too much, or maybe I’ve been walking more than I thought, because I passed out cold on that chair.

When I woke up, a new smell met my nose; it smelled of something savory like freshly baked meat.

I hurriedly rushed towards the smell, eyes closed, so I could get a stronger scent.

I banged my hip on a hard surface and heard metal and plastic clanging into each other.

I frantically waved my hands, trying to find the source of the smell.

Finally, I burned my hand on something, it was hot, but it felt like cooked flesh.

I tore into it, taking handfuls and thrusting them into my mouth.

I chewed so hard I bit my tongue, which snapped me awake from my frenzy.

I chewed more slowly and actually tasted the food.

It was turkey, my least favorite of the birds to eat.

But it was better than starving, something I hadn’t realized I was suffering from.

After I started to feel bloated from the bird, I turned around and started walking away.

I should’ve grabbed more food for the road, but I figured if I found food once, I could find it again.

I was still in the retirement home, although I found no walls, people, or anything.

There was a sound of people talking, a large crowd like in a dining hall.

But I never found them, nor did the sound get closer.

I gave up searching for the people, figuring that it was a hallucination my mind was creating.

I tasted metal in my mouth; I must’ve bit my tongue a little too hard.

I spat out some liquid residue from my mouth, probably blood.

Time passed, a lot of time passed.

My feet never left the old matted floor.

But somehow I was feeling dizzy.

Like I was no longer perpendicular to the ground.

I bent down and touched the floor; it was slightly curved.

I started to sweat, I don’t know why, but I did.

Panic began to rise inside my chest.

I wanted to scream.

I began running, feeling myself go from dizzy to nauseous.

Soon, I felt blood rushing to my head, as if I were upside down.

But my feet were on the floor.

I felt my hair sticking straight up, as if gravity was pulling it towards the sky.

My shirt lifted up, trying to leave my body.

My feet were firmly planted on the floor, so why was my body being pulled back up?

Or… was it down?

I opened my eyes, and I felt the floor disconnect from my feet.

Like two atoms rejecting each other.

I fell for a long time, longer than I should’ve for a fall I could survive.

As I fell, I felt myself crying.

I wasn’t sobbing, but tears were leaving my face.

My chest wasn’t clenched; it felt open.

Was I… accepting death?

I felt like a flower, blossoming in an empty field.

I wasn’t scared, I found myself smiling as I fell.

The tears felt like I was letting myself… be.

I was existing, I was there, I was present.

I started to laugh.

I was feeling almost euphoric.

The joy I felt was childlike.

I clutched my stomach and let myself become someone I hadn’t been for a long time.

I was happy.

Somehow, I was happy.

Somehow, falling to my death turned me back into a carefree, unknowing, happy child.

I could feel the falling slowing down as I laughed, and soon I felt stationary.

As I laughed and cried, I rolled over on the giant softness that I seemed to have landed on.

I giggled to myself, wanting to stay like this forever.

But my throat began to grow weary, and my eyes ran out of tears.

I lay there, not sleeping, not thinking, just being.

After time passed, I began to crawl across the pillowy, invisible landscape.

By now, I had forgotten my eyes could open.

My body was suddenly a weight on me, gravity being something that had become limiting.

My limbs moved in clumsy, ununiform movements.

Moving itself was something that seemed to take forever to master.

Soon, I found myself sinking into the velvet soft fabric.

I was enveloped, my skin becoming the fabric.

I could feel it dissolving into my skin, hugging me from the inside.

It was tingling, like getting high for the first time.

But the dopamine I felt was incomparable.

My body seemed to disappear, and the only feeling I felt was everything around me.

I felt myself in the air, flying far away.

My mouth was open, but I was also falling through it again.

I could almost see my lips, unnaturally curved in a cartoonish form.

My eyes were gone.

Sight was something that, while once necessary for living, was no longer a thought in my mind.

The things I saw were in my mind.

My mind was invading every corner of this space I had found.

I found the musty floor I had walked on, the sand, the grass, the horse, and the concrete.

I could hear the rain, the dining hall, and the walls bending.

I could smell the dirt, the meat, the empty air.

Everything that was once simply sensations was now a part of me.

I could wiggle my toes and feel the sand dancing around them.

My hands brushed the horse's mane.

My eyes saw nothing.

I felt like I was falling, but no air was passing through me.

The air had reformed to become a breeze.

It pushed me along like paper, and yet I never moved.

Suddenly, I slammed onto cold, hard concrete.

I felt no pain, but the shock forced me to gasp for air.

I was suddenly alive again, my hand clutched my chest, and my eyes snapped open.

The movements I made were sporadic and small, like a broken toy attempting to dance.

If I had circuits, they would be short-circuiting.

I gathered my breathing and relaxed my muscles.

I stood up and saw a sliver of light.

In front of me was a long, narrow sliver of light.

Like an open doorway, but no door.

I stood and walked to the light.

My hand had made its way in front of me, and I could see it again.

My body was back.

I began running to the light.

When I reached it, I found I was too small to move through the crack.

Reaching out, I grabbed the edge of the light and pulled hard.

Slowly, the light widened.

Eventually, there was enough space for me to fit inside.

Before I walked through, though, I took a look behind me.

Although my eyes saw nothing, I still viewed the landscape.

I was able to cast a mental vision of everything I saw.

I saw the stairs, the grass, the carpets, and impassible paths.

But I also saw myself.

I was all of it.

When I smiled, it smiled back.

I wasn’t feeling concrete on my feet, I was feeling myself.

The air around me was no longer simply air; it was an extension of me.

I took one last breath of myself, and I walked through the door, back home.