The sun shines brightly on my window, I can tell by the light shade that forms on my curtains that I often keep sealed. But it all starts with the sound of fast-approaching horse hooves that by the sound of it are traveling in a rush. Distant drum beats join the uproar.
In no time, I am sure that the source of these sounds will leap into my vision. For now, I don’t turn around and pretend to work on my laptop, pretending like there is nothing out of the blue. The assault continues and screams of vengeance sprinkle the ongoing noises. I continue trying hard to concentrate on the words on my laptop screen but, after some time, they start to jump out of my focus.
My eyes try to catch each alphabet but all the as and zz decide to evaporate, leaving a white surface in their wake. My fingers free on the keyboard. It is the point where I know that no matter how hard I try, I would not be able to conjure any text or visuals in front of me. I know this is the point where I turn around and get run down.
Just as my head involuntarily turns to a hissing sound that calls my name, a word appears on my screen. It seems to take over the entire page but it reads unreal. Yet, somehow, I know that it is real. In the midst of the chaos that is about the run amok, a black Fiber Castle falls from my desk and skitters to the floor, where it stops by my flip flop.
This is where it hits me that the ground is made of solid tiles and there is no asphalt or rough surface to which horse hooves can clap to create such a battle noise. I whip my head back and for sure, it’s real. Dark heavy beasts with shiny manes are inching closer with every heartbeat. Dust kicks up as the horses come closer but I manage to stare down just in time, as a man pulls out his blade from his boot.
There are white tiles everywhere. And I know from there that I am probably blending reality with my hallucinations. I take a deep breath, bracing myself to stand my ground, reminding myself that the army approaching me is unreal.
Just then, the silver knob of my door turns and Melissa walks in. She looks me up and down, as if sizing me but then I realize that she is looking pointedly at my hand, gripping the fallen pencil at an odd angle, like I was holding it up in my defense. I figure that at some point, I may have picked the pencil and adjusted it in my hand like a useless dagger that will protect me.
The beasts and their monsters disappear. Only a small neigh escapes from some horse that is far from me now. I look at Melissa’s dark gray eyes and smile warmly; as if I wasn’t just a fool caught in the middle of an imaginary battle conjured by my schizophrenic mind.
