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[Jasper]

"The one and only thing we'll never be able to escape from is ourselves and all the luggage that we tug along behind our back."

Lines in the sand. So fragile. And yet so expressive. They ebb and flow as quickly as the soothing waters wax and wane around them. Changing shapes and shifting their meanings. Assuming forms. Creating patterns. Compelling me to explore their fluid nature.

I roll onto my stomach, cautiously reaching out to touch the viscous soil and hoping to feel a pang of refreshing moisture to caress my fur.

It doesn't come.

A silent sigh escapes my lips. It isn't real. No matter how convincing it may look.

The little meadow overgrown with buds and blooming vibrant flowers. The deep green willows creaking in the morning breeze. The ripe fresh grass grazing against my body. The still perfectly blue sky without a single tinge of white. The crystal-clear pond full of gorgeous yellow lilies, reflecting the merry gentle sun above. The rich palette of colors. All fruits of my own imagination, given form by the man-made sphere I call my home.

These haze-like mirages aren't refined, but they're malleable like clay. Eagerly responding to both intrusive thoughts, capricious whims, and needs along with the subconscious. For better or for worse.

Am I awake within this thing, I wonder? Or am I trapped inside my mind each instant when I'm here? Or maybe somewhere in between. It's hard to say. I wish I knew the answer.

Time holds little power in this place. It stretches out like resin and shrinks down like drops of dew in equal measure. Making it hard to count the days I've spent within.

The rays of light seem static. Almost frozen, making it appear as if the pasture has been confined in an internal daybreak. And yet the air brings little warmth. Barely reaching my dulled perception.

Such shame.

But I will be called upon again to see the sprightly outdoors. In-due-course. A little patience goes a long-long way.

It isn't a jail or a dungeon. I'm here on my own volition. And I can leave at any time.

Right?

A cold tingle runs down my spine at the merest thought of being stuck. This unexpected surge of feelings takes me by surprise.

I try my best to brush it aside, shaking my head and taking a deep breath.

Calm, Jasper. You're okay. You're safe. Even if it is but an illusion, it is your refuge. And has been for many years. Collect yourself.

My eyes close as I suppress the inkling of discomfort.

When they pop open, something looks slightly off. The sun. It dimmed down. The skies took in a greyish tint, preparing themselves for a rain. The grass looks drier. Sickly.

I grit my teeth, attempting to clear my mind from the unnecessary contemplation. I need to distract myself.

My slightly trembling paw reaches back into the bushes, trying to find a little souvenir I took with me.

To my relief, a comb made out of a sea shell is still in its spot. A touch of its rimmed crusty surface brings some solace to my heart. Reminding me of the love and care that Auntie made it with. I know she wouldn't leave me here.

Pushing myself closer to the surface of the water, I lean over the edge to look at myself in nature's mirror.

But what I see cuts off my breath.

The liquid. It's black like tar.

A loud snap. A sound of something bursting open.

A pair of tear-ridden pink eyes look back at me. Their unmoving gaze locks in. The features fidget around, rippling like sludge. Fuzzy. Barely recognizable. Until they start forming contours.

My mask is gone. A tiny twisted cat-like face takes over the spot instead. Much younger than myself. It's dirty. Grimy. Filthy. The color of its fur is hardly recognizable under the crimson stains and soot.

No. Not again. Not here. Please.

My head starts spinning, filling me with nausea.

The reflection. It opens up its mouth as if screaming for my help. But the plea turns into a disgusting gurgle, resounding through the ground itself.

The greenery starts withering around me with soft ticks and cracks, turning into dust. Disintegrating like old parchment. Revealing the crumbling wet concrete, pushing itself out of the mud.

The foam rises up above the surface, threatening to overflow the shallow pond. Masking the horrific image under the thick layer of pitch. But the piercing glint of eyes still haunts me from beneath. My eyes.

"Go away..." I murmur to myself, feeling the creeping hand of dread crawling up my chest.

"Please... Leave me alone-"

My words are cut midway by chink of glass shards falling from above. The sound of a lamp exploding into bits and pieces. It's followed by a buzz of electricity.

The so-called sun goes out. Covering what once was a peaceful meadow in an all-consuming shade.

My nose picks up a faint smell of rot. My ears make out the distant taps of footsteps. And a cackle. A cold, uncaring human laugh echoing through the darkness like a whisper. Mixing in with the jingle of the iron keys.

I press myself into the ground, covering my head with my paws. In an almost childish desperate attempt to not be seen.

<Sixteen...>

A raspy male voice breaks the rapidly cooling down air. The sound of it is choking. Overbearing. Exuding a sadistic poison, sipping out of every letter that it speaks.

It makes me want to sink into the floor. To vanish. To disappear. Just so I won't have to hear it.

You aren't real. Not anymore. Get out of my mind.

<Hiding again, Sixteen?>

Don't say that name. I'm not him. I won't be again. Please leave.

My fingers squeeze my temples harder, my claws start drawing tiny drops of blood.

The memories. They flood my mind like a wave, crushing the wall of my defiance with mocking ease. My legs tuck into my stomach as I crawl into a fetal-like position.

They came to take me back.

My tendons impulsively tense up, preparing for the pain to come. I want to run, but strength departs my shaking limbs, leaving only a paralyzing chill weighing them down like lead.

<How impolite. Perhaps it's time to teach you yet another lesson, mongrel.>

The footsteps stop. Somehow the moment of overwhelming silence fills me with more fear than the approaching jailor.

My heart misses a beat after another. Racing within my chest, barely able to keep up under the weight of distress ravaging through my head like a maelstrom.

A steel clank of a chain finally breaks the silence. A creak of aged metal scraping against metal. So loud, it makes my teeth ache as I helplessly cover my ears.

A soft whimper escapes my lips, drawing the man's attention.

<Here you are.>

The voice sounds content. Satisfied like a wild predator that managed to corner their prey.

I can't see the figure, but I can feel its foul eyes locked on me. Sending sickening shivers in my stomach.

Exposed. Alone. I want this nightmare to end.

The piercing shrieks of iron rumble louder than before, drawing ever closer. Rubbing against the stony floor of what now looks like a cell.

The noise almost makes me jump as I turn my head around.

The spirit-crushing darkness makes it impossible to see. Only distorted shapes creeping on the very edge of my eyesight. Vicissitudes of unsaturated shades.

The trees or whatever's left of them appear gnarled. Contorted. The leaves are gone, replaced by dangling bits of jagged metal. Shaking in the ghastly breeze, each movement is followed by mournful ringing as they clap against each other.

A sudden squall shudders through the air, unleashing a choir of cacophony. Deafening me, reverberating through the walls, and setting the dust fly free. The creeks, the electric buzz, the cackling of the invisible figure. All blends into a horrid chorus of bone-grinding noise. Forcing me to join in with my own involuntary scream.

The iron-covered branches start to move. Slithering like snakes as they aggressively coil and squirm. Preparing to attack. Clanking. Rattling. Before they launch themselves towards me.

The floral carcass strikes me with a swarm of chains. They stretch out from the decaying trunk akin to a pack of writhing centipedes, latching themselves onto me.

The frosty sting of cold iron fills my body with an all-too-familiar sense of resignation and despair.

Deep down I know that no matter what I try, it'll only make it hurt tenfold.

The metal wraps around my shoulders, my chest, my neck, my arms. Anchoring itself in an unbreakable, unyielding grip. Stealing all my vigor from my sinews.

Nowhere to flee.

The visions seem all too real to me. Scratching against the back of my mind. Forcing their way in through the open door inside my psyche that I'll never be able to close for good.

What if my breakout was a dream?

What if I'm still there? Locked up. Nestled among those who weren't so lucky. Or am I the unlucky one?

Nothing is making sense now. Have I lost it? Has my mind finally shattered like a crystal vase, beyond repair or salvation?

A silent sob escapes my lips.

My head's a hectic mess. The only straw separating whatever's left of hope from the black pit of dejection is but a tiny glimmer. An echo. A name.

"Garnet!" I yell into the shadows. I doubt that he can hear me from inside this nightmare. But the dim flicker of belief hiding in my heart won't let me stop. "Please help me... p-please..."

Another screech rattles through the gloom. The chains pull back, slowly hauling me toward the husk of the animated tree. It opens like a casket, revealing a mouth full of leaden "teeth". Knives, scalpels, drills, and needles. All sticking out of its wooden desiccated gums in uneven rows.

A wide and hungry maw eager to tear into my skin and bone.

"Garnet..." I whisper to myself, still hopeful that somehow my prayer would reach his ears.

He doesn't answer. Only the same mocking laughter follows suit.

The thing draws closer. Its iron fangs brush against my fur, dripping with oil, rust, and blight. Ready to rend me like a rag. To chew and spit me out. Discard me like the rest. Never to see the light of day nor breath of life again.

"Friend..." I mutter under my breath. Recalling the first word that he has ever said to me so long ago. The day they found me. The day they broke me out.

I close my eyes in acceptance, preparing for the torture to begin. No way to run.

A moment passes.

Another one, dragging it out for unbearably long.

My forehead strains, my feline fangs bite into my lip to muffle myself up and brace for the approaching pain. My tail curls behind me in defeat.

What is it waiting for?

Let's get this over with.

Why aren't you hurting me?

Reluctantly, I lift my heavy eyelid in confusion.

It's gone.

I stare at the clear pond of water right in front of me. My terrified expression leers back from it. My own, this time. Stands of my fur stand up like arrows from the shock.

My trembling paw slowly rises up, brushing away a tear from my clammy cheek as I watch the surface glint with rays of sunshine.

Lines in the sand. There's still. The waves have calmed themselves.

I take a deep breath and roll onto my back. Barely holding myself together and fighting the tremor in my limbs.

The forestry returned. It's green once more.

The grass around me is rumpled after a struggle. My comb tossed carelessly aside with but a tiny crack on it.

I loudly exhale, sprawling flat on sun-warmed earth. It's over. The nightmare has passed. Yet somehow deep inside I know that it will never leave. It'll lie in wait, hiding the slimy tendrils of my memories with patience inside my psyche. Looking for yet another opportunity. A moment of laxity. A trigger to release itself.

I'm ill.

I wish there was a cure.

To my relief, there isn't any time to introspect. Not now. Not yet. I'm not prepared for that.

The walls of the man-made shelter shake and tremble, drawing my attention. Not a moment too soon.

An echo shudders through the sphere, coming from beyond the shell. A call I have been waiting for.

My caretaker sounds stressed as she reaches out to me. Selfsame. Whatever's happening on the outside surely can't be worse than this. I heed her call.

<Meowscarada!>