a/n: Severe spoilers for the end of Yume Nikki.
Open your eyes.
Dishevelled.
Groggy.
The picture in your mind is lost, but the feeling remains. Descent.
A sense of finality remains.
Rolling over, it's the same old room as before. Dark and smelly, and you can't tell if it's morning or evening.
Blink, and nothing changes. The empty television winks at you.
Frown.
Tired again, but you don't really want to sleep. Don't want to be awake, either.
Mull that over for a while and become conscious of how alone you really are.
Recognize that you are unsure if you're even awake; it's been getting harder to tell, lately.
Try to wish the idea away, but it's taken hold of you.
Sit up, perspiring. Almost sick.
Because it's clear what must be done. So simple, too.
Remain sitting there, breathing stale air, for a long time. You sit with static in your brain. Amazed you didn't think of this before.
Take a look around your room again. Hoping to feel some sense of longing, nostalgia.
Turn and set your eyes upon the one door that won't betray you, feeling lighter already.
Out on the balcony now, shivering in your red sweater and nothing else.
Cars race by like tiny lights.
Don't try to follow them.
Climbing up the ledge, curiosity takes ahold of you. Look down and experience hesitation.
Shuddering, from the elements or perhaps malnutrition, all the things that are bad for you.
Human instinct is another form of fragility.
Wonder, briefly, if someone will be considerate enough to tell you not to. Dissuade yourself. You've sunk so far down that no one will call for you.
A few months ago, you might have cried. You might have been angry. You might have thrown your last pot of overcooked, microwaveable noodles at the wall, just to annoy your neighbor.
But it's not really a sad thought, now. Just the truth. No more harmful than the air on your skin, the safety of seclusion.
The light and sound becomes disorienting. The horizon distorts and sways in time with your head.
Spreading your arms like wings in childlike wonder.
There's only one way to be sure of it. After all, there's no harm in dreams.