Loud light ringing fills my ears. I leap with my right foot into the trenches but fall short. I fail to crawl inside to safety in time. The noise gets louder and louder and I feel that it's coming back around. It starts with heavy winds that shake the forest and tear down the land until nothing but soil remains. The light fades as a line that faces the light and dark creeps towards me. The shaking, a rumbling of the ground, makes my body go numb, my conscious fading…

My fingers tingle. I feel the sensation of falling. I open my eyes and I see myself in a room to big to scale. I… see a rug? It spans vast lands and is all that exsits. I see my world appear again I see myself falling back into it. The size of everything seems familiar again, Though I am in a place I have never been before. It's foreign but feels familiar at the same time.

I don't know how long I was sleeping for nor do I know what day it is. I find my bare feet are unable to handle the hot sand. I feel the sun's rage that falls upon this land with its unbearable heat and everlasting stamina. It feels like the pain of the humidity will never stop. I've kept a steady pace. I kept myself going by the thought of my people… the thought that I won't ever see them again. I still can't place if what I saw was real. I feel like I'm searching the vast expansion of my consciousness to remember what happened, what took place that day. I knew this day would come. They say it happens every rainfall though that was the only one I ever heard in my lifetime. The mountains I've been chasing are near.

Night has fallen on the land. The rivers rumble has taken over all else. The land I'm scouring seems to be covered in sand and rock with a river going down the mountain. I don't know why i'm going here. It feels more as if my body knows where im supposed to be… it feels as if I’m meant to come here.

The trail is rough, rocky, and rigid. The corners are tight and the cliffs aren't forgiving. I've been to a place like this before. There should be sounds, or just a sign of life, but none seem to exist. It feels like a place people aren't supposed to see. The only thing guiding me across the turns is the same force that led me here in the first place. Father always kept our family distant from the town folk. My grandfather was well… everyone outside our family called him a cooc and crazy he would just tell me that half of a make believe sentence and then stopping everything to rock his chair. The one sentence that he would always repeat to me when no one else was, “I hate being trapped in this body, I miss when I was you,” Grandpa would also tell me,“Me and you were trapped inside,” He would always say, “when you feel the force, go towards its warmth and wait for destiny to arrive,”. He always sat in a redwood rocking chair with a yellow pillow. It was indistinguishable from any chair ever. The second you sat in it you knew you were sitting in his chair. My family is known explorers. We all become crazy. our  minds seem to fade. It's like a fog that consumes our minds and does not stop growing. One time, it was day for three years. Sometimes the sun's rage never goes away. Last time night showed up before tonight was months ago.  I feel the warmth and I'm letting it guide me. 

I follow the warmth to the edge. I look over the mountain. I've never been this high before. I've heard stories before of a time where people were able to climb our mountains. Ours is called the Tuff though I heard the other lands mountains were just their culture’s word for tuff. No one where I'm from was ever able to go to the top of the mountains. They said that when you arrived at the top you would just end up worse then you started. My mind is telling me not to but the warmth is so inviting, so intriguing. I know I'll find my answers up here but I'm scared, scared of being worse then I started. 

My legs twitch, my arms shake, and my back trembles. I'm scared to see what's up here past the clouds and at the peak. It will answer my questions but at the same time it could confirm my fear. I've came to the realization that I won't ever see those I hold close again. Even if they survived… I will never be able to reach them. I walk into the clouds. I feel the mist surrond me. I feel a sense of relief like I'm finally free. As my foot passes through the last puff of smoke, I start to see things Ive never had the freedom to lay eyes upon. The mountains span across infinity. I’m able to see the what the light fogged. I see wood that makes cities look like a raisin. With a large window that shows a sky… the real sky. The glass metropolis exists above with the sight of a dark but shining sky. The lights that cloak my view. I see the truth the only truth. I'm a small part of something much bigger than myself. The things I do will make a small unoticable difference in this land. My stomach feels like its being carved out with a knife. My toungue feels like sand paper. My drive and adrenline that brought me to the top has all but faded. I lay myself down.. I can't fully describe what all of this meant. I know the land I've lived in is small and enclosed. It seems theres something bigger then us going on off of this rug. As I watch the lights in the sky for the first and last time, I feel comfort in knowing that there is something bigger then whatever lays outside this rug… that lays in the night sky. I finally know the truth, but I know that by the end of this I'm going to be somewhere different somewhere I don't want to be. I'm just happy in knowing that I'm not stuck where I started. I rest for what I hopes the last time.

My bones feel frail, my muscles feel stiff. My body feels aged. I find myself stuck in a body that' not my own. My vision has cleared. I find myself in a rocking chair, I look beneath myself to see the yellow pillow.