DAY 3

So I think I've officially gone crazy; I just woke up from another dream. I started off in darkness, perfect pitch black. I remember walking around to see if I could find a wall to orient myself, but I couldn't find a single thing to run my hands across. I even ran a bit in one direction, hoping that I would run into something, fuck the potential pain. But nothing, I decided to sit down. After what seemed like hours, I heard a voice come from across the void. It was female, but I couldn't be sure. The voice wasn't even really there, it felt more like it was registering in my mind rather than through my ears. Either way it was telling me not to be afraid, that if I was patient enough, I'd be able to escape unharmed. I didn't say anything initially, but when I did, all I could ask was why this was happening to me. The voice asked me to elaborate, and I told it I couldn't. She laughed and told me to go be cryptic to someone else. I sat there shocked, not sure whether from the fact that this disembodied voice seemed to have a sense of humor or that it decided to employ it in a rather bitchy manner. The voice seems to sense my irritation and offers to help me assuming I follow a few conditions. I agree. She seems pleased at my willingness and lists her requirements. First, I need to be compliant without fail. Second, if I *am* to fail, I have to accept the consequences. If I follow these two rules, I can get out of wherever I am unharmed. Honestly, I didn't trust anything that was happening to me, let alone a voice that didn't even seem to have an owner. But I was desperate, I was scared. I complied. She giggles and promptly gives me her first command. She tells me to jump as high into the air as possible. I get up from the ground and stretch my arms out above me to make sure there wasn't a lower ceiling than expected. After finding the space around me satisfactory, I bent down to spring up as high as I could. The second my feet leave the floor, my head explodes in searing pain. My ass hits the ground hard, my head hurt so much that if I could actually see anything, it'd be stars. The voice is laughing hysterically at what happened. I immediately think it's her doing so I curse and scream at her, demanding to know why she would worsen my current situation even further. She claimed that her only intent was to guide me out; I realized that regardless of what her true intentions were, I needed this disembodied voice to get out. I asked for my next assignment. The voice didn't respond for a few minutes, but the entire time I could feel whatever worked as her mind whirring at top speed, giving off a phantom heat that only my most internal senses could decipher. Finally, she tells me to stand up. I follow her brief instructions and prepared for more, but they never came. I was left alone for what seemed like hours. I was dying to sit back down but her rules were made clear; while i waited, my mind wandered back to my life before the room, before these insane dreams. I always try to see if I can shed more light on my past, as if just sheer willpower alone can unlock the mystery. Sometimes, I feel like all I'm doing is pushing them further back into the darkness, so far back that retrieval will become impossible. That's the last thing I want so my probing never lasts too long. I bring myself back to "reality" and make sure I'm ready to follow the next order. Almost as if she was waiting for me to pay attention again, the voice apologizes for her absence. She tells me to start walking forward, but slowly this time. I do as she says and take a few steps, making sure I'm ready for whatever joke she has waiting for me. Instead, piercing light floods my eyes, making my dialated eyes scream silently in pain from the sudden activity. My hands come up to shield them, but the voice tells me to stop and just focus on taking each step. Every fiber in my being tells me to ignore her and protect myself, but I still haven't forgotten what's at stake. Soon enough though, the pain subsides and the splendor of my new surroundings sprouts a wide grin from my grimace. I'm in a pasture with the greenest blades of grass going on and on into the distance for miles. There's not a cloud in the sky and the sun is taking full advantage of that, letting sunlight gush all over the me and my vista. The voice asks me if I'm pleased by what I see. I say that I am, and the voice says good. It tells me to walk over to the nearest tree I see, and when I get there, I find a tank of gasoline and a matchbook. The voice tells me to use these items on the tree; my heart sinks at my new task and I ask if there's any specific reason as to why I need to do this. The only answer I get is a splitting pain between my eyes. I take that as a "shut the fuck up and do it" and start to douse the tree in gas; I light a match and watch it burn. As soon as a flame sprouts from the trunk, however, flames start spreading from every direction in the brush. I start to panic as I watch my beautiful meadow light up in flames; my sadness is quickly overcome by terror when I start to notice the flames center on a common target: me. I start to run in the only direction that isn't engulfed in fire, but the voice tells me to stop. I don't and keep on going, asking the voice if it's out of its mind. The pain starts to throb inside me again, but my extreme desire to live keeps it from hindering my movement. It's a brutal and mortal struggle, pain and terror closed in on all sides. A flame catches up to me and lights me up as well. I could feel my flesh blistering and burning as I screamed out in agony, cursing everything. The voice tells me to find peace in my end, and I listen. Somehow through the unimaginable pain, I found solace in knowing that my story had come to an end. It didn't even matter that I was about to die, nameless and unknown, in the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere. Finally, I could close my eyes and rest. Only that wasn't my destiny. Instead, my death came in the form of waking up again. Back in this fucking room. I got up and realized I must have been asleep for days when I collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Luckily, I found more shitty food where the last meal was, and, this was new, my paper and pen supply had been replenished. Clearly, whoever is responsible for this nightmare likes what he's reading. I never would taken myself for an easy target for Stockholm Syndrome, but hey, I kinda like that I have an audience. Someone might as well enjoy the shit I'm going through right? Anyways, I have another date with my dreams. It's getting hard to keep on calling them that. These days they seem like anything but.