I could move, but I was slow about it. I was forced to watch my death come slowly up the track in a black mass of steel and coal. As I attempted to move out of the way, I began to think to myself: Why can’t I move properly? How did I get here? I closed my eyes, but when I opened them, I was suddenly in the school’s hallway. By that time I realized there was something wrong. I took in my surroundings, feeling carpet under my feet. I knew I’ve never been to a place like that. That’s when I figured out the illusion. Like clockwork, I began to become aware of the pillow under my head. I was sad. I didn’t want to leave the confines of my skull just then, as in there I was the architect of my own world, but outside of it I had no control. I violently woke up as my mother turned on the light to get me up for school, but I refused to move. Why is it morning? I don’t want to leave or see anyone today. I believed in the fact that I still had ten minutes before I would have to leave my bed, so I kept my eyes shut, hoping for tranquility. It didn’t come. All I saw was darkness.