kringgggggg

Hey, Amy. It's time to wake up! Look at the clock - It's almost 11! Mr Sun waits for nobody on this Summer day!

"Huh?"

"Wait, where...... Why am I back here... in my bed? Wasn't I standing by the mountains just now taking a...... picture?"

"What are you- Look, I am the narrator calling out to you because I truly had no choice. Look at the time, for God's sake, look at it!"

"Narrator?"

Amy scrambles for her watch. It displayed the time on it ( huh, I thought it did something else ). Indeed, it was already nearing noon. It was 11-o-clock. O very indeed. What was she supposed to do now? A watch that mimics the ring of a conventional bell clock surely does daze some people. Just look at Amy, She looks as if she got hit by a truck prior!

For a moment, Amy sat on her bed. Pondering. It seemed she was losing her marbles slightly... Hey, ill tell you what. This? Yeah, all of this wasn't supposed to happen. You see, she was supposed to wake up dazed. She was supposed to wake up, look out of the window, and decide to do whatever ensued...... which I have oddly forgotten. Hmmm...... I can't seem to really whatever came after this segment.

Amy was wearing a particularly fashionable nightgown. In fact, it looks with a certain affinity to a one-piece dress. Lily-white. Odd, I can't seem to recall when was the last time we saw it.

Something was obviously amiss. Amy knew it. Amy felt it. But what exactly was happening? Was everything prior to this a dream? It couldn't be, since not only is it not in the script, everything - from the way the sun shone to the house up in the mountains, it was real. They were real. Truly, something was going on without neither of our intervention.

Amy scrambled to get off her bed, only to realise she was wearing sand-ridden sandals. She also found a pair of scissors tucked away in the pocket of her unusually fashionable nightgown. You know, the normal stuff we all sleep with. Amy was soon dealing with more problems, as it seems this obviously wasn't her usual night attire. She also realized her bed was now soiled with dirt and soot from her dirty sandals, mind me. 

The bedsheets were different, her gown seems so much newer, there were questionable items she slept with, all of these things surely arise to even more questions. A quick check on the date would seem like the day has repeat itself. Of course, Amy didn't know that. Thoughts raced as she tried to once again make sense of reasonless acts, and it was currently enveloping her mind like the great seas around an island, cutting her off from anything and everything else.

"So, in my dream... I woke up as usual, right here. I was on my bed as usual, wearing my nightgown. However, now I am wearing... "

This was exactly playing out like her script...... err dream. As per her observation, she was where exactly her "dream" began, but just about everything else about it was different. She remembered the skies calling out to her, something vague and unmistakable, yet was already forgotten by Amy herself. There was no way it was just a vivid dream - she was wearing whatever was in it, seemingly as an extension, a direct continuation even, of the very dream she had itself.

Amy forces the pair of sandals beneath the bed, in hopes that mother would not find them before she finishes cleaning or the wild soot of her inherently clean bed. Oh no, what would she think Amy was doing wearing sandals in bed? Lossing her marbles, that's what it is. With her feet lighter she heads for the door, in a pace never seen of or expected in a young girl. The door was clicked open and she rushed to the toilet.

"What...... is going...... on?"

Images, plenty of them, incoherent and without any correlation to the events of an already muddy dream begin to be cherry-picked out of the pool of Amy's thoughts. Those views were obscured by the very pool itself, flowing downstream before they are made clear to her eyes. Once again, for inexplicable reasons, tears began to flow from Amy's eyes. She felt calmness, she felt panic, she felt pain, she felt elation, it all eventually settled on a tinge of melancholy, melancholy, melancholic tears that flowed into the sink tap, down from her face, down from one which seemed oddly younger than before. 

Within the bathroom mirror, Amy realised the one-piece dress she was wearing looked newer. It still tugged to her body, but the shade of white it has is nothing she had seen in years. It surely can't be the one she wore in the dream, it was instead a newer version of it, purer than before. This dress... what memories was it once associated with? Whatever memories that there was once for Amy to relive, they were straying further and further from Amy. She felt with every thought spent, the heart grew more transparent. Words, thoughts, visions......  Who was she now? Since when did this "Amy" person exist?

Exactly what has led her up to this point?

She splashed the deathly cold water upon her face. Although it stings, perhaps it is for the better. She needs to calm down, after all. There is no need to fret about this. Take a few soothing, deep, calming, voracious gasps of air, and slowly...... let them out. We can all come down, have a sit, and slowly piece together the events of last night. Eventually, we might piece together as to why Amy has absolutely no recollection about anything, even her past self, who she was, where she was prior. Perhaps she is an amnesiac? If that were to be the case, such an event would be commonplace after all. Yeah. Perhaps so. Brush up, tidy up that wretched face, comb out the long locks of hair and gently leave the bathroom. We can all throw these stressful visions elsewhere for now.

sigh

Amy began once again, back to her room. Calm.