I wake up to darkness all around me. It’s cold and chilling for the moment I first experience it, but soon, it passes. Slowly, almost lethargically, my eyes adjust to the ceiling, with a fan suspended in a state of stasis. Why darkness appears as a dark blue, I’ve no idea. As that thought passes through my mind, the ceiling changes colors.
It’s green now.
Suddenly, the chill returns, but transmogrifies into a sense of euphoria. Believing myself to be having a vivid dream, I attempt to change the colors with a thought, but to no avail, as the mossy filter penetrates my mind as I think of other hues. I, instead, wish it away.
It’s yellow now.
Jubilation pierces my heart, although I’ve nothing to be happy for in this context. I realize that when the color changes, my mood changes with it. The fan starts a slow, creaky rotation. I become annoyed, as I am still chilly.
It’s red now.
I wish suddenly it didn’t change, as I am filled with a fierce, uncontrollable anger. A sharp yell escapes me and I rip upwards from the bed, gripping the spinning blades and pulling it down.
It’s a rainbow now.
Suddenly, a cacophony of emotions jolts me instantaneously, as painfully as a cluster of bees swarms its attacker. I become unable to move and fall onto the bed. The fan dangles helplessly. I notice the angle in which it points in and try to use every muscle I can to get out of its way, to no avail. The cable connecting the fan to the ceiling snaps.
It’s blue now.
The tip of a fan blade crunches down on my throat, causing me to gag, rendering me unable to breathe. I find myself able to move and I shoot up, but I recall that I’m in a dream. I try to wake up as ink fills my retinas.
It’s black now.
I’m not asleep.