3Elden knew it from the start after walking along the dirt paths in this forest and he didn't need a written note attached to the back of his hand or someone to step out of a shadow to explain it to him. If everything was real, he would not only know but actually be able to understand. And then. . .sometimes, if everything was just playing pretend, he, of course, would seize the idea as well.
As always.
Today wasn't an allaying day for El. Most dreams were and today this one should have been. Damnit, it was in the bag! But in a dream you knew what was right from wrong. You just needed that little fleshy reminder in your heart that only you could tell if something misfortunate was going to begin. The young man felt it against his skin; the heat and the pressure building against his flesh. He felt something, anything, and nothing. Like birdies all in a row in their tree, he heard but never actually saw.
A snapped twig was all he need to startle himself from his dreary state into a panicked stage. Just as soon as the wood underneath his stocking feet had died, his head plunged and coffee-stained colored eyes glared at the blue twilight. It was completely blue and God, did Elden want to call it something else. Indigo, maybe. Was that the word? Was it a word?
Maybe it was an artistic word; El was an artistic young man and this dream, well, -his- dream managed to capture a very indigo twilight sky swallowing every color out of everything in this forest. Even the branches and trees were completely black and his senses were struggling and clashing like violent waves. Bubbles of blurs flashed over his eyes ever-so-often but it never hurt. No. Just scared him shitless.
Not only were his senses probably ruined at the time, but the man had a some sort of idea in his head that spelled out certain things. His wild hair of coal-black was probably sucked colorless to a dull dust and his eyes were most likely chilled over by now as the skies only seemed to get darker.
Elden didn't even think it was happening. He just knew.
The thing about tumbling in a murky forest where the sky swallows your color was you never knew where you were going. It didn't help that El accidently stepped on the back of his baggy dark jeans and tumbled in to what appeared to be a lake. It certainly didn't help him when he tried to arise back to the surface panting heavily.
"S-shit..." The young man mouthed as he felt his white "wife-beater" stick achingly to his chest. Cold air managed to bump against him but that was never the worse of it. Lake water was sloshing in his mouth. Oh, God, it felt horrible as it slid out of his teeth. He violently tried to spit it all out and it occured to El that it was almost. . .orange. A sick puking orange that was nearly sticky over his lips. He shuddered at just the thought of what it was but all he knew was he had to get out of this lake and this forest and this dream. . .
...it was just a dream...
Just a fucking dream. Well.
Even if that experience was sickening, the figure managed to pull himself out of the body of water, and surprise, surprise! His hair hadn't really faded away. He could see strands sticking heavily over his eyes and they, too, were probably just as fine. His spirit and comfort, well, they were more likely washed away then faded out. At least he was breathing and at least that water hadn't gotten down into his throat and. . .
Shit.
It had.
There was just something about being on your hands and knees and throwing up wildly that dispelled a captivating look. Especially if you felt like you were dripping from a sea of infest. Sickness crawled across his skin but Elden managed to wipe his mouth in a lingering look and his mind seemed to tumble out of his mind.
Not only his mind but his body, his muscles, his heart, his spirit. . .
There he goes again. . .down in the lake.
Orange water flushed over into his mouth and Elden savagely opened his eyes as he felt himself being pulled under the water. Now the indigo skies above were much darker as the water knocked each other in wavering lengths but he couldn't breathe. His body was tearing in half and he was only sinking lower and lower with each attempt of surfacing.
Death was not by his side, though and he was not dying. He wasn't. He just felt ache and just as fast as he had sank, he had surfaced to a new place unfamilar to him where the skies were just ash and the water was just as foggy. His functions must have peeled off and there they laid below him like crisp cut pieces never to be seen again. El rested over the water on his back trying to taste his cold lips. Patches of blood ran over his body in soft drips and even some of it surrounded the water, but it had never hurt.
It only hurt to think. . .it only hurt to dream. . .
. . .and just as El rolled lightly in the water, he finally awoke. . .