Dream diary I

The Golden School

        I am sitting at my high school class, over the teacher’s table and leaning back against the wall. Some things do seem a little off; both the blackboard and the teacher’s table were on the opposite side of the class, and now that I see it, the podium was under me, so it seems to be backwards, too. All the chairs and tables were still pointing in the usual direction. The usual good ol' school chairs and tables filled the room—all brown, made out of plastic and iron. Now that I notice, the bulletin board was missing. I couldn't tell if the walls were white or yellow from the golden light that was shining through the windows. I couldn't see anything outside—just a golden blankness of light.

From one second to another, I was able to hear some voices behind me. You see, my high school has a set of windows that connect all classes. They're usually covered with a blurry translucent plastic so you can't see through, but there's a spot in the right corner of the window where there's no cover. I peeked through there and saw four silhouettes.

One of them was my chemistry teacher. I wouldn't mistake that shouter in a thousand years—his screams, like the ones of a million demons. He’s a good teacher, though. He was standing in front of the blackboard—holding a very long rod and swinging it through the air while shouting and pointing at mathematical operations written on it. That class had all the furniture dunked up, too. The furniture, the podium, and the blackboard were switched, like they were a reflection of the real thing.

The remaining three appeared to be students, seated apart from one another.

I decided to go out there to see who they were, so I got up from the teacher’s table and walked out of class, carefully avoiding all the furniture. When I got to the door, I took a big breath and opened it.

Everything outside the class was as usual—the stairs leading higher or lower, the high school canteen, and the crystal doors leading to the schoolyard. Everything looked exactly the same—except the sky and the corridors. The sky was all shiny and yellow, like I was inside the Sun. But it wasn't hot, really, nor was it cold either. The corridors’ ends seemed to drift apart from me, getting longer and longer.

After standing there for quite some time, I started walking in the direction of the class where I saw my teacher and the students. I put my hand on the door handle and sighed. The doors in my school get locked once closed; after that, you can only open them from inside the class or with keys.

I laid my head against the door and peeked through the window. I could only see that golden light—but with some specks of purple floating like dust.

I wanted to get in, and just as I pulled the door open, I realized—it was never locked in here.

Inside, my teacher was still shouting; my entrance didn't seem to captivate his attention. When I looked at the place where there was supposed to be a wall connecting to the class where I was before, there were only windows—with that golden light shining right through them. Although in this class, the light shined weaker.

Right in front of the teacher, there was one of my classmates and friends—I'll call him B.K. He was writing in some notebook, seemingly focused, and sometimes he looked up and nodded to the teacher.

"This is strange," I thought to myself. B.K. is usually very conflictive with the chemistry teacher; they always end up arguing about nerd stuff. But this time, he was calm and seemed to nod to everything.

On the second row, right next to the window, there was a girl. She might've been an old classmate. Last year, she was my gossip partner, but what she really wanted to be was an artist, so she switched schools. She seemed to notice me, so I started walking toward her. She was smiling.

Then—laughter. A sharp, manic giggle.

It came from one of the corners of the class. She was just at the edge of my sight. I looked at her—but I couldn't make out who she was. She seemed unfamiliar, as if she didn't belong here. Her body—dark purplish, with long hair. Her limbs—melting. She was laughing in this strange, maniacal manner. Her presence tainted the light around her.

Without knowing it, I started walking toward her—as if driven by pure instinct. Purple petals began falling all around. And the more I approached her, the darker it got around me. Just the sight of her eyes made me start laughing—uncontrollably.

I spiraled across the classroom, laughing and laughing, bumping into desks and chairs. All I could hear—my chemistry teacher's screams and the girl's laughter.

At the cease of the world revolving, I noticed myself near the door. I turned around. B.K. was staring at me, giving me this distressed look—like he was scared of something that might happen to him, or to me. A look of pure despair. While closing the door, I remember whispering something—looking directly at him.

"Enjoy the torture," I murmured. The teacher screamed louder.

The more the door closed, the darker it got. All the golden light coming through the windows shifted—deepening into purple. The laughter intensified, echoing through the space.

While the door was closing, I caught my reflection. The purple girl was behind me, her dripping arms stretching toward my eyes. And then—as the door shut—I woke up.