On a cold, windless night, I was sitting at home and reading one of my many books, when I realized that I was late on an assignment that I had to turn in the next day. As all of my books were made for enjoyment, I did not have any books for studying what was required.
Panic surging through me, I decided that the best idea would be to go to the Library, if they were even open at this time. I hastily grabbed my coat and made my way outside, making my way towards the library. The only source of light seemed to be the streetlights as I walked, unable to see the moon. It was quiet and by the time I had reached the library I had checked over my shoulder at least five times, trying to catch the subject of my paranoia.
As I approached the Library, it was made obvious that it was long closed, even feeling abandoned. I strained my ears and there wasn’t a single sound in the darkness. In a desperate attempt, I decided to push open the door, and surprisingly it gave way with ease. I stumbled inside, the darkness black as pitch, and I struggled to make out the words on the books as I passed them by. I pulled out my phone and used it as a flashlight, searching long and hard for the object of my search. I searched long and hard, knocking a few dusty books off of their shelves, but eventually I found it.
On my way out of the library, I noticed an eerie orange glow coming in through the window, the source yet unseen, obscured by its positioning to the side of the window. I slowly pushed open the creaky door to the library, taking in the surrounding scene with my eyes wide open in shock. The sky was glowing a faint blue color, and there were orange strings of lights going up and down the street, with many market stalls lining the sidewalk.
Even stranger still, the street seemed to be completely filled with people, wearing all types of different clothes. As I walked, I found myself staring at the many different outfits, unable to comprehend where they all came from. There were inhumanly tall figures wearing trench coats, and small ones wearing what seemed to be steampunk in look. Some of the strangers’ outfits seemed to have been created out of a material I was unfamiliar with, warping and shifting constantly as my head throbbed, unable to process what I was seeing. Worse, many of the strangers seemed innately inhuman, walking on more legs than two, or with a head split open revealing rows and rows of teeth.
The market seemed to extend in all directions from my position, so I decided the best path to go would be toward my own home. As I traveled, I tried my hardest to look down and avoid catching the attention of the strangers, but something in the corner of my eye caught my gaze. I felt strangely drawn to one of the market stalls, lined up neatly just like the rest, but emanating a soft, purple glow.
I approached the stall slowly, trying to will myself not to, but feeling helpless and unable to stop myself. As I approached, a humanoid creature greeted me. Where its skin would be were left cold, hard, scales, and its hair being replaced with matted fur. Parts of the creature seemed to disappear and reappear even as I looked, even twisting upon themselves over an unseen axis. I resisted the urge to scream as it spoke to me, with a surprisingly male human sounding voice, though with a thick accent I was unable to identify.
“Greetings, creature of the third dimension, would you care to purchase any of my wares?”
As the creature said this he brought out an assortment of objects, twisting and bending upon themselves in impossible patterns. The objects felt impossible, as if they simply did not belong. I hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond.
“What are they?” I found myself asking, stuttering nervously as I did. “And how do they look like that? Besides, I don’t have any money,”
The creature let out a small chuckle, answering quickly in the thick accent, “They are simply ornamental, and as to their look, there are more dimensions beyond your own, creature. Any manner of currency you may have would be worthless to me, I simply require a piece of you. A simple lock of hair would suffice.”
I pondered the creature’s offer for a few moments, ideas going through my head rapidly. I realized I could probably sell the object for a high price and set myself up for life, so I quickly decided to accept the creature’s deal and chose out a small, yet impossibly large, object, glowing a soft purple. The creature swiftly sliced off a lock of my hair with a long, inhuman claw, and with the loss of a lock of hair I felt as if I were missing something more, though I was unable to place it. It felt as if I were missing a part of me that I would never be able to regain. I screamed, and quickly made my way back toward my home, clutching onto the impossible object as it twisted and warped around itself.
As I made my way home I heard the voices of the creatures around me, some sounding inhuman, some speaking incomprehensible languages that I was unable to pinpoint the origin of. I could barely make out some phrases in the mess of words.
“You are ours now creature.”
“What will we do with it?”
“Do not be afraid.”
I quickly started sprinting, finally making it to my home in the middle of the market, rushing inside and getting into my bed. As I laid in my bed the voices continued, and I struggled to fall asleep, spending what felt like hours awake.
I woke up with a start, finding myself in my room with the light flooding in through the window. Quickly reaching into my pocket, I felt a small orb, pulling it out and finding a small, purple colored marble. I closed the window, plunging the room into darkness, and held up the orb. It did not glow anymore, and seemed about as normal as any other object had. Yet, I still felt as if there was a piece of me missing, something innately wrong with myself ever since the moment I spoke with the merchant.
In my class, I tried to explain to my teacher what had happened and how I hadn’t been able to finish my assignment. I even showed him the marble and the shortened hairs that had been cut by the creature, yet the teacher just sighed and looked at me with a face mixed with disappointment and worry.
“I understand you may be going through a difficult time, but this excuse is more outlandish than any I have heard before. I can’t accept a purple marble and your cut hair as an excuse for not finishing this assignment. I’m concerned about you, it isn’t healthy to dwell in your fantastic imaginary worlds.”
“I promise you it isn’t just a marble!” I exclaimed, struggling to come up with the words to say. “Everything I went through was real!”
“I think it would be best if you focused on your studies and sought some help.”
Feeling defeated, I returned home later that day, trying to explain to my parents what had happened, but they gave me the same look as my teacher had and did not believe a word I said. I know what happened that night was true, but as I sit here in a bed that is not my own I feel trapped, and no one believes me about the events that happened that night.