Dreaming of Another World

Opening my eyes, there was an unfamiliar ceiling. It was still somewhat dark and I could barely make out a flicker of light to the left. Smoky wisps diluted the light and I came to realize that the source for the light was either a candle or a torch. There was a strong musty smell in the room and it was damp where I lay. I tried to get up, but the muscles in my body ached and trembled. I could not feel a presence nearby, so I was alone, but just when I had assured myself this, I heard a voice. Or rather, the voice was in my head.

[....you might.....move....]

It sounded synthetic, kinda like what a Vocaloid would sound like if they weren't singing and merely just speaking. However, it barely made any sense as if its sentences were being cut off by something. Yet, I strained my head trying to see if the voice would say anything else.

[Try....might.....single muscle]

There it was again, this time I heard the first word and the last words, but still couldn't figure out what it was trying to say. I felt like an idiot thinking that this voice would be a clue to where I was, but at least it seemed the voice was merely repeating itself until I understood it.

[Try as you might, but you won't be able to move a single muscle yet.]

Suddenly the voice was clear as crystal and I could hear what it was saying. But as soon as I understood that this voice was stating the obvious to me, I suddenly saw images float into my head. I had no recollection of these images, so I took a wild guess that these weren't memories but rather, visions. But visions of what? Where I am? The future? Or maybe the past? All the images had a central figure in them. A little girl wearing bright and colourful clothes that made her look like an idol. Kind of like what I envisioned magical girls to look like if they were real.

[They ARE real.]

Huh? The voice spoke again. Was it reading my mind and responding to me? Now that's creepy. But what did it say, that magical girls are real? Well, assuming this voice and the images I'm seeing aren't the result of hallucinations or some sort of mental disease, then I wouldn't doubt whatever the voice said to be true. But considering my family history of schizophrenia and chronic depression, I'm suspicious of this voice. How would I know this voice didn't come straight from my own imagination?

[Your imagination holds more power than you'd want to believe.]

Wait, what is that supposed to mean? It's not like I'm the main character of a fantasy or systems novel, there's no way I was gifted with a special ability or something, right?

[Don't let yourself be restricted by your reality. You hold the power to change yourself and your reality.]

This voice sure has a personality of its own. I'm not used to encouraging myself, and I sure as heck don't use voices in my imagination to bring about motivation. While this conversation is going on, the images don't stop coming, but I had already decided to ignore them and focus on this voice in my head. However, one image catches my attention.

[You've noticed, then.]

How can I not? An image, or should I say, a scene where I'm running away with the little girl, something that I don't ever recall doing? Is my imagination running wild and creating all sorts of fantasies now?

[It is running wild. But not here. You are limiting your power here and thus your imagination is wreaking havoc in another dimension.]

Yeah, right. I don't believe it. I'm just a normal human being. With a normal life, normal friends, and a normal home. If I had some sort of power, that would make me an anomaly, wouldn't it?

[It will be time soon. Time for you to wake up and face the truth. The reality that you have been avoiding since birth. We'll talk again...I.......meet...]

I blinked, I'm sure I was already awake. What did it mean by waking up? The voice seems to cut off as it's saying its last words. The last thing I catch is the word meet. Did the voice mean to say that we'll be meeting or was it letting me know who I'll meet later? If this is just another lucid dream, I could wake up and think that the voice was just in my head and a figment of my imagination. My muscles are so tired and they continue to ache. My eyelids grow heavy and I'm forced to close them. In this dark room with my eyes closed, I fall into complete darkness once more.

And I dream.