The alarm rings. You awake. The alarm stops.

Your departure from slumber is uncharacteristically seamless, as you sit up and adjust yourself to the darkness. The sun is barely rising, and the embers have yet to pluck up enough courage to take their paintbrushes up to the sky.

You stand up from your bed, and you find yourself walking through fields of green. The grass is tall. Again, uncharacteristically, you are perfectly comfortable walking outside without footwear. You know nothing will hurt you here.

There is a path in sight, slightly worn from travelers before you. You wonder why anyone would even be walking here, because the surroundings were so wild it had probably escaped exploration, but you know where you’re going. You trudge on.

Thorns prick you. Shards of grass scratch you, and yet you feel no pain.

Blood flows freely, and your eyes are not used to the mess you see. You question why there is no pain, even as the path grows rougher and the surroundings more hostile. You feel you should be hurt, and you feel that you should feel fear… But why, why?

And then you start feeling it.

Your footsteps slow.

Pain kicks in.

Who can truly tell you when to pull the trigger on a dream?