The morning I wake up, I see a sky that isn’t the color of any sunrise I’ve ever known.

It’s purple, with dark

I’m lying in what seems to be a wide, open plain…like a field. The grass beneath me is a dark turquoise,
soft like petals and strangely warm to the touch. Every blade shimmers slightly, almost as if it’s breathing.
Scattered through the field are flowers, but not normal ones. These have glassy petals that shift colors
when the light hits them. Some pulse faintly, like fireflies trapped inside their stems. I sit up slowly, unsure
if I’m dreaming, hallucinating… or worse, completely lost.

The longer I stay lying down, the more I notice shapes moving above me…birds, or at least I think they’re
birds. They glide across the purple sky, calling out with soft sounds: tweet… chip-chip… trill. Their voices
echo gently through the open air. I decide to get up, but as I try to sit, something presses down on me. It
feels like the air itself is heavier here…like I’m being held in place. A wave of drowsiness washes over
me, and then it hits me. Gravity. Or maybe something like it, but stronger. It takes real effort, but I finally
manage to push myself upright, breathing a little harder than I should.

As I look ahead, I spot what looks like a village in the distance. “It’s kinda… small,” I mutter, still catching
my breath. I push to my feet slowly, legs shaky but steady enough to start walking.

Step by step, I make my way toward the strange little place, unsure of what’s waiting for me there.

The walk to the village takes longer than I expected. The ground isn’t flat. It rolls gently, like waves frozen
mid-motion. Every few steps, I pass these tall, strange trees with bark that looks like silver and leaves that
move even when there’s no wind. They make this soft rustling sound, almost like they’re whispering to
each other. I try not to think about that too much.

Up close, the village looks like it wasn’t built at all. More like it just rose up out of the earth one day and
decided to stay. The buildings are smooth and rounded, almost like seashells, with no sharp corners or
real doors, just openings that curve inward like mouths. The windows glimmer faintly, but there’s no sign
of life. No voices. No smoke. No footsteps. Just the uneasy breeze.

Then I see her.

She’s standing by one of the buildings. Still. Watching. She looks about my age, maybe a little younger.
Her skin is a deep copper tone, and her black hair falls straight down her back. She’s barefoot, wearing
something loose and simple. Her eyes catch the light in a way that makes them glow a little, like the
flowers in the field. She doesn’t say anything. She just stares at me.

I stop. Raise a hand halfway, unsure what else to do. “Hey,” I say, my voice sounds awkward in the quiet.
“Do you live here….?”

She doesn’t answer right away. She just lifts her arm slowly and points past me, toward the field. Her
hand trembles slightly. When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet and thin, like wind brushing through tall
grass. “Don’t let it follow you.”

My heart beats from the ominous message. I turn around. At first, nothing’s there. Just grass and flowers
and the endless stretch of that purple sky. But then something shifts. The color of the air behind me
seems to ripple. It isn’t shaped like a person. It isn’t shaped like anything I recognize. But it’s moving.
Slowly. Closer.
I spin back toward the girl but….she’s gone. Just gone. Like she was never there. A gust of wind rushes
through the village, curling through the open windows and around my ankles. It makes a sound that
almost feels like words. I don’t understand them, but somehow I feel what they’re trying to say.

I need to run.