ooc: Dream
It began when he was given a present.
"Here." A girl--in overalls with a mop of rainbow colored hair--tossed him something. Something round and heavy.
Who this present was from and why it was given, he could not remember, but he felt like it was of great importance to him for some reason or other.
"--Found it at a vintage store. Cause you keep on talking about that silly tree house we used to have when we were kids. Treesphere. Get it?"
He immediately felt a strong attachment to this gift -a small tree-planted inside a small glassy globe. Every day, he took care of the tree and watched it grow--
"T-thanks."
"Just don't water it--it's not real you know."
--it became so large that he cut off the top of the globe to give it more room. The tree grew incredibly large, like a new and brilliant world. It was an amazing playground.
"Grow. The. Hell. UP. Stop being such an idiot. Be a man. Be an adult. You idiot, you idiot, you idiot!"
The girl woman charged at him, fury in her every step. Her appearance was different now, her face softer, belly slightly rounded, the dye in her hair faded with black roots sticking out at the top. Her golden eyes were full of tears.
So he invited what he assumed were his friends to join him in this new playground. However, anyone who he'd invited would never recall anything other than what he'd seen just before arriving. The man began to lead them into the playground, telling them stories that they always seemed to believe. Whatever he said became law and order; he was proud that all his friends would listen to him and stay, always believing what he had said.
He saw a hand reach out to stop her. It was empty.
But eventually all of the man's friends started crying and wanted to go home. He didn't want to let them.
He saw a hand reach out to stop her. It was holding a steak knife, crusty but sharp.
No, they were all to stay with him forever--he'd never let them leave!
"REMMY!"
The blood streamed from her chest and down his arms, into the dirty carpet where it spread slowly, inching outward.
He looked away. But the blood on his arms, his chest, his face felt cool, he could hear the woman on the floor twitching.
His eyes caught upon a tiny snow globe that sat innocently on a nearby messy table.
It began when he was given a present.
He closed his eyes and embraced the darkness.
--
[ooc: The italics are taken from Fugue's very first dream located here]