He dreamt, he was sure, for his eyes were closed, yet light seeped into his sight. No, penetrated. He knew this to be no ordinary dream light, but then, what? His eyes fluttered on the brink of opening, breaking out of the almost-dream, but he couldn't. The light began to burn, to hurt. Wincing, it felt as though he were being set on fire; maybe he was. Everything became so very dry. His throat ached for water; his skin felt close to peeling off. The intensity of the strange, white, dream light rose, higher and higher, until he fervently wished, prayed that it was only a dream. His skin melted away, exposing organs beating and pumping, all to different beats. Surely those burnt away, and then, the light, the fire, seared his bones, until all that was left was his thinking soul, and then--
He opened his eyes, and blinked at the light that blinded him so. He brought up a hand to shield them, only vaguely surprised that he possessed a hand, much less the strength to move it. He dropped his hand and turned his head this way, then that way, then settled it up again. Suddenly the light cut off; no, was blocked, by something getting in the way of its path to his eyes. By someone. By a woman. A smiling woman.
She laughed, and he sat up, feeling the ache of sleep in his body. It felt as if he slept for days, and he groaned with it. He had the feeling of such an old man getting up in the morning, feeling stiff and achy and somewhat grumpy. But the laughter, the laughing woman near him, melted these things away. All discomfort disappeared. He was rejuvenated. He was restored. He was alive.
"You've been laying there for quite a while. I was wondering when you'd wake up."
He turned his head to see the woman, now at his side, and, blinking again, smiled in return. He couldn't help himself; the smile came from getting one, and she... she seemed to love smiling. Long black hair framed that face with big brown eyes, so careless in expression, and she wore plain clothing, a white T-shirt tucked into jeans. Her bare feet wriggled their toes in the grass and her arms wrapped around her drawn-up knees, so when smiling at him, it seemed she tried to hide it a little.
Should I know this woman? he thought. He felt he should, but he couldn't place her. In fact, he couldn't place anything. Whenever he tried to focus on something before this moment, it slipped away. Thoughts like sand through his fingers, he asked, "Who are you? And where are we? Why am I here?"
She regarded him a second, looking to measure something about him, then said, "I don't know."
The blinking came back. "Which question does that answer?"
She laughed, like always. "All of them. I don't know who I am, and I don't know where we are, and I don't know why you're here. I am myself, but I don't know what else to tell you. We're here in this place, but I don't know what else to tell you about that either. And everyone comes here at first, but usually they leave, but--"
"But you don't know what else to tell me."
She grinned. "That's right. I wish I could, because I think you have the right to know." The grin faded slightly. "No one really knows anything here, but it feels all right. It feels like nothing else matters, except being in this place. Do... do you understand what I mean?" The look she gave told him that she desperately wanted him to comprehend something she could not explain, could never explain, and, even if explained, could perhaps not comprehend herself.
Though it made sense and did not at once, he slowly nodded. Maybe it was to please her, or maybe himself. "I can't remember anything before now. I... woke up here, right? Maybe... I was always here?"
Her eyes seemed to echo the questions he asked. Then, it vanished with another smile.
"I can't stay sad for long here. Isn't it nice, though? Nothing really concerns anyone, so it's not so bad. Don't you think so?"
He agreed. A sense of peace kept washing over him as the pang of not remembering faded. He knew a word for this, he knew he did, but it would not come forth to him. Vaguely, he thought he heard more laughter, but it was not her voice. He asked her about this, and she answered with more smiles and laughter.
"It's the children. You can't see them yet, but you will soon. They play here, and I watch over them. Everyone's so happy."
For the first time he looked around. They sat on top of a hill that gave way to a great valley below, which had a large blue lake in the center. Off to the side was one tall tree, its branches stretching wide and long to create shade from the light. The valley too was spotted with trees like this one, and everything was very green. The sky shone bright blue, dotted with huge fluffy clouds occasionally.
Maybe the word was perfect, and it fit, but it was not enough, he decided. What could it be?
He stood up, and she stood as well.
"If everyone goes away, where do they go?"
She shook her head. "I'm not sure. I don't think they go into the valley, but maybe..."
He felt something tugging at him, pulling. He suddenly felt lighter than air. He glanced at her and saw that her face was a mask of astonishment and fear.
Fear?
"No! You can't go! It's... it's not right!" She squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't understand...!"
He realized that he was slowly floating away, higher and higher into the air, and farther and farther away from the woman. It didn't feel right at all, but he didn't understand either. Why was this upsetting her? Why was he floating away at all? Nothing made sense in this place, but that place seemed to prevent things from making sense.
He floated higher up; the woman turned away and buried her face in her hands. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to see her like this. It was too sad.
The bright white light of his dream came again, searing everything away. He didn't even have time to be surprised that he had thought it a dream, for at that time, the white disappeared, and a blackness consumed him.
When he woke up again, he vainly wished he knew nothing.
