K A N N A H I G A S H I
The sun’s warmth kissed Kanna's skin as she drew in quiet breaths. The fingers on her right hand made small movements with her breathing. This went on for several seconds, until her fingers were limp and lifeless, again. “Dad…” her lips spoke feebly through her sleep. And, suddenly, without much morning, the girl opened her dark eyes.
She squinted at first, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Instead of the plain, tidy walls of her bedroom, there was some sort of sandy jungle in front of her. Instead of lying comfortably on her bed, she was on the hard ground. Slowly, Kanna lifted herself. Her line formed an emotionless line as she looked around. Am I still dreaming?
The small sound of someones or somethings was talking. The voices sounded intelligible but different. She could not put her finger on it. Slowly, she turned to look in the direction of the voices. As she did this, she noticed several other people littered around her. What happened? Her face remained apathetic, and then she saw the creatures. She had never seen anything like them before. I have to be dreaming. There was no other explanation.
The creatures were hobbling away while squabbling about something or another. She thought about calling after them, but she was afraid to wake any of the sleeping people. Why am I afraid of waking them? She asked herself. A small sleepy breath escaped her, and she brushed a strand of brown hair behind her ear. Her concentration returned to the creatures.
She wanted to be more curious, but her head felt heavy and delirious. There was too much happening. She looked at the palms of her hands, opening and closing them. She was still dressed in her street clothes, and her memory was escaping her. She had no recollection of what she had been doing before all of this, except for the dream she had just been having, and she did not particularly want to think about that right now.
Another small breath left her. It was melancholy. Her hands planted themselves on the sandy ground next to her and pushed her body upwards. As she stood up, she looked down at her boots, studying the skirmishes they had acquired throughout the year of owning them. They seemed just as scuffed as always, no more and no less. She frowned and then scanned the area.
There’s no way I am not dreaming. Kanna straightened her jacket and tugged on the strap of her messenger bag. She looked at the sky. It seemed different than the sky she usually saw — the shape of the clouds and the angle of the sun. She took several steps and examined her foot prints. There was nothing unusual about her tracks.
Without much thought, she examined the contents in her bag. Everything seemed in order, too in order. The dream was bizarrely adequate at duplicating her waking life, aside from the place she was. Something seemed wrong, and she could not put a note on what it was. Her hands grabbed hold of her messenger bag’s strap as she looked around more indefinitely.
Then, she realized what the problem was.
Normally, in a dream, she had some objective, and the dream pushed her forward no matter which decision she made. However, there was no hazy compunction moving the situation right along. She was merely existing in a space, with so many options. No one thought directed her anywhere. She was stagnant. She simply was.
And, then, there were the others.
Where am I?
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