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I wake up to the loud sound of an alarm beeping. I rub my eyes to see properly, and I realize, I don't usually use an alarm clock. This is a modern world of cell phones. Where is this sound coming from? The sound reminds me of my old Casio watch I wore back when I was in high school. In the pitch darkness, I soon find the source of the sound: it is coming from something on my wrist. I lean closer to the window, to see what it is that's stuck to my hand. It look like a wristwatch. I fiddle with the feeling of buttons, and the LCD screen lights up with a faint bluish glow. It was indeed a digital wristwatch. While I do this, suddenly the loud beeping stops, and the bell icon on the LCD screen vanishes right before the screen light turns off. Weird, I never once wore a watch since high school, so how come I have this relic on my wrist?
I glance around the room, my eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light filtering through the dusty, torn mesh curtains. It becomes increasingly evident that this isn't my apartment. Confusion gnaws at the edges of my mind as I try to piece together how I end up here. Am I still dreaming or am I kidnapped and brought here? With cautious steps, I explore the unfamiliar room, taking in every detail. The worn furniture, the faded curtains, the dusty, rotten, moist floorboards that creak beneath my weight.
As I approach the window, a shiver of anxiety runs down my spine. Outside, the world is shrouded in darkness, devoid of any familiar landmarks. It's as if I've been transported to a different reality altogether or a dark nightmare, but wait, I think this sight is familiar. I think, a perplexing sense of familiarity washes over me. Why does this place feel so strangely comforting all of a sudden, despite its unfamiliarity? The question lingers in my mind, adding another layer of confusion to an already bewildering situation, giving me a headache. I can't see much outside due to darkness yet my heart starts calming down.
Where am I? Is this what they call a lucid dream? Where one realizes that they are dreaming? I turn around. The furniture is in disarray as if someone went through it in search of something. I feel my heart at ease, as if I am used to such dark rooms. I decide to step outside the room in search for answers. As I explore the house, I find everything in the house in similar condition as the bedroom I woke up in. As if the house was robbed and anything and everything that could be used or salvaged was gone, including a few missing doors, broken beds, chairs, cabinets, and even a toilet seat in the bathroom.
I notice how the floorboards beneath my feet groan with age and neglect and won't stop making the loud sharp creak in the dead silence of the night, adding to the eerie atmosphere of the house. I somehow feel like I shouldn't be making this much noise, I don't know why I think of that. The faint scent of must and decay lingers in the air due to the rotting wood of walls and floor, hinting at the passage of time and neglect that has befallen this once-lived-in space.
As I step cautiously through the front door, I meet with a rush of cool air that brushes against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. The outside world unfolds before me, dark yet bathed in the soft silver glow of moonlight. I can't help but notice the way the moon casts its silver across the landscape, illuminating the quiet street and the stillness of the night.
As I stand in the middle of the street, I scan the surroundings, taking in every detail with a newfound sense of curiosity. The street stretches out before me, lined with silent houses and dormant trees, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. In the distance, I can see the outline of city buildings, their shapes softened by the darkness of the night sky.
As I walk down the deserted road, the moon cast its light upon the strip mall ahead. The storefronts stand silent and dark, the gap in their boarded up windows reflected the moon of the night sky. Among them, a gas station loomed, its pumps standing still against the backdrop of the empty parking lot. No car in sight. As I approach closer, the pumps are silent and dry and there was no trace of electricity in the strip mall.
My eyes are drawn to the second-floor windows, all of them boarded up tightly, and for what, to keep something locked in or let no one in? A surge of curiosity washed over me, urging me to explore further. I find myself drawn to the staircase tucked away at the side of the building. It can be used to get up to the second floor of this building.
Approaching the staircase cautiously, a strange sense of déjà vu washes over me, tinged with a hint of familiarity that I couldn't quite place. It is as if I have been here before, as if this world, once so strange and unfamiliar, was now starting to feel strangely familiar. As I reach the foot of the staircase, a shiver runs down my spine, and that's when I hear it—the unmistakable sound of a dry, slow groan echoing from somewhere near me. And suddenly, an emoji pops up in my vision with the text 'panicked'.
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