The grass beneath her black Mary Jane shoes appeared mostly crisp and brown. The only greenery was a few patches of live grass here and there, left behind from whatever drought had killed the others. Every time she took a step, she heard what sounded like a car horn going off. She had been walking for how long, exactly? It felt like years. Yet, at the same time, it felt like it had gone by in the blink of an eye.

"Now that I think about it...why am I walking in the first place?" she asked herself. Her face scrunched up at the revelation.

She suddenly became aware of the memories her mind held. She had been burning to death. When those memories flooded back, she only became more confused instead of making sense of things.

She cringed and started to frantically pat her body.

I can't feel the fire, but that doesn't mean anything, right? Sure, I can't see it, but...

Her hands went slack at her sides, and she blew a raspberry, feeling the clarity in her lungs that she lacked before.

"Who am I kidding?" She crossed her arms, grabbing her elbows in some sort of subconscious self-soothing gesture. "Me? Burning alive? That is absurd!"

She had trouble thinking of a logical explanation for what that place could have been. She would just stick with whatever made the most sense in her head.

Her hands rose up on her arms to give the middle of her arms a reassuring rub before dropping to her sides again.

"This is a dream!" she concluded with a smile that didn't quite reach her light-brown eyes. Obnoxiously, she laughed. "I apparently 'died', but that could have been part of the dream too! I may as well make the most of this dream."

She dug the front of her shoe into the ground, pulling up some of the crumbled-up dead grass. The grass honked. She laughed as she squished it once more with her heel. "This grass is dead. Did it burn too? So noisy and weird!"

With no reasonable explanation, the compulsion to run overtook her. Perhaps it was the overwhelming sense of freedom now that she was able to move her limbs and breathe easily. Regardless of the cause, she dashed across the plains. She allowed her long, curly hair to fly out behind her like white streamers in the wind. Her arms, too, as she lifted them out to her sides.

A lolita-styled dress formed her figure, predominantly featuring hues of orange with sky blue accents on the top. The white trim complimented her black skirt. She adjusted her matching choker hugging her neck and her bow at the side of her head. Ahead, a patch of earth rose into a loop. In the middle, there was a hole in which a tree was growing, bearing some kind of fruit.

Chalala's feet froze as she gazed at the tree with dazed eyes. The fruit was like nothing she had ever seen before. Different colored fruits, some of which glowed, were arrayed on a single tree.

She couldn't help but smile. "What is that?"

"Don't you see?" a choir of voices questioned.

A funky-looking fruit slithered down toward Chalala, not even startling her the slightest.

"I am food," it purred.

A corner of Chalala's lip quirked up, and her eyebrow mimicked the action.

"Do I not look tasty?" The fruit shook and stretched.

Sure, it looked tasty, but most fruits didn't speak. Chalala blinked in rapid succession.

"Eat meee!"

She put her hands up in front of her and looked to the side, huffing with irritation. "Why would I eat a sentient...thing? The mere idea is positively ludicrous. What an insult to my taste buds!"

"Come ooonnn," the fruit whined. "Come on! You want to."

"You sound like a manipulative, horny man," she stated, her nose turned up in disgust. "Back off."

A plant shoved its misshapen, patterned leaf in her face. It demanded, "Eat meeee! Oh, why won't you eat me?! Eat me now! Now! Now! Now!"

She flinched and took a step back, nearly tripping over her own heel.

"Fine!" She finally gave in, rolling her eyes at the bizarre request. "You really want to be eaten. It's weird. But I guess it doesn't matter. You're not real. I'm barely real. Guess it doesn't matter what I eat."

She extended her hand and made contact with one of the fruit pieces, experiencing an unusual and fuzzy texture that sent tingles cascading down her arm. With a firm grip, her fingers encircled it and pulled.

With a pop, the fruit disconnected from the tree. She held it up with her hand to look it over, inspecting it, trying to guess what it would taste like.

"Here goes...Let's get this over with."

She brought the fruit to her mouth and dug her teeth into the skin. It made an odd sound like she bit into something filled entirely with fluid. She wouldn't be surprised if it were filled with water given the fact that she didn't taste anything.

A cool sensation coursed along her tongue and dribbled down her chin, but she couldn't quite place the texture. Irritated by the feeling, she rubbed her chin with the back of her hand and took another bite.

The distorted fruits on the vines danced as the plant shook them off one by one. "I taste lovely, right? Have some more!"

The way the fruits fell wasn't possible. Some got stuck like they were glitched in the air. Others spun fast and slow in place.

"It is quite far from lovely. Nonetheless, I will grace you with my time."

She reached out to pluck one out of the air. When she touched it, her skin took on a similar, distorted look. She brought the fruit to her lips once more, but before she had a chance to take a bite, she got interrupted by a disembodied voice. Her lips froze on the fruit's pixel-esque peel.

"Take my advice. I wouldn't continue doing that if I were you." Based on the tone, it appeared to be the voice of a male.

His pitch sounded distant yet near, causing strange vibrations in the vines. None of it seemed physically possible.

No.

This entire situation was nothing more than sheer absurdity. The plants and fruits began to laugh, and their guffaws echoed.

Without turning around to look at him, she bit down on the fruit she was holding. After she chewed up the bite, she spoke, still not looking at him.

"I frankly don't care." She shrugged as she dusted off the misshapen pear. "It's a dream."

That fruit, however, had a distinctiveness that set it apart from the others. She knew this immediately as her head began to experience the sensation of liquid filling up once more. This time, the liquid sloshed around.

"Woah..." Her feet stumbled around awkwardly. "Am I getting high? Is this what it feels like? That's weird. Can you get high in dreams? Apparently. It has to be possible, because–"

Everything around her was spinning. Spinning. Spinning.

This is ridiculous. Not even my dreams are working in my favor!

Crooked pinwheels obscured her vision as they formed like a merry-go-round. The pinwheels wore tap dancing shoes. They jeered at her and they twisted into a damaged boot.

And now I'm seeing all these things that make no sense. What's your deal, dancing shoes? Why would you change into something so peasant-like?

A vortex of bubble wands scuffled over a single potato chip.

Nothingness followed up after that.

The sound of something, which she assumed was a bird, served as her wake-up call.

Sensing the presence of grass beneath her, she noticed its softer texture compared to earlier. Slowly, her eyelids lifted, revealing the russet sky above her.

"What a weird trip..." she muttered.

"Told you so."

Once again, she heard the same voice. In Chalala's vision, a creature hovered above her. His yellow eyes stood out from his dark purple body. White streaked parts of his head. His ears, which resembled those of a long-eared rabbit, were quite long. He had unmoving black wings that looked like moths had eaten holes in them. Kangaroo-like legs drooped down in a relaxed state as his long tail wiggled. A smug smirk was plastered on his complexion, somewhat resembling that of a human, but not quite.