object: bag
colour: blue
emotion: confused
-
The bag was green.
Quincy stared at it in her hand, hanging by one of the straps that your arms go into. She didn’t really know why she was staring at it, standing in the middle of her doorway with her other hand on the handle. She didn’t really know why the fact that it was green mattered either.
The observation mingled at the back of her head, sat in a void that stubbornly refused to make connections to the other firing neurons. It felt like there was something she was missing, or forgotten something obvious.
It was such an insignificant thing for her to get stuck on, right? The literal colour of her bag. Just as she was getting ready to leave too, shoes slipped on and front door unlocked. Only to pause on… what, the spectrum of visible light being reflected back into her eyes?
Whatever. It was stupid. She had this bag for years now, and knows that it is hers, it belongs to her. So she took her eyes away from it and turned the door, stepping out into crowded halls.
Quincy weaved between other students, her backpack already a secure and familiar weight on her shoulders. The light was different, she thinks. Stepping through vaguely remembered figures and shapes and blurry faces. Her classroom was in another building, similar yet different to the one she found herself walking through.
It was when she turned a corner that she suddenly realised she was alone, her footsteps echoing around the space. Then, another thought, just where the hell was she?
No building on campus had the turns she took or the layout of those rooms. But she was on campus, that she definitely knew. She didn’t remember the walk to school but it’s not like that was abnormal. It’s the same route every day, if anything, it would be more unusual if she didn’t zone out.
It didn’t feel like she was lost. Turning around to try and retrace her steps, glancing down empty hallways and into equally empty classrooms.
How long had she been walking again? For some reason, it felt like she was getting farther and farther from her destination even though she’d turned back. Turned back where?
Everything looked the same, yet—?
She blinked at the ceiling, dazed and heavy with fatigue. Quincy turned over, kicking off the sheets that clung to her legs, and blindly grabbed at her phone. No hint of light leaking under her curtains, could be anywhere from a late night or extremely early morning… Getting up was going to be annoying later.
Hissing at the blinding light of her screen, she squinted and blinked until she saw: 4:45 AM. Damn, not enough time to try and sleep, she wouldn’t get any good rest before her alarm rang.
She dropped her phone, screen down onto her bed, shifting onto her back and throwing an arm over her face. “Uurrhhhggh…”
Taking a few moments to breathe and fully wake up, she pushed herself up into a sit, rubbing her eyes. Right, okay, she could get up early and get coffee from that one café as a treat on her way to school.
Quincy shoved herself off her bed and mindlessly started going through her morning routine. Brush, shower, dress, grab her [ ] backpack.
Toeing on her shoes, shoving her keys into the door. She stood at her doorway, hand on the handle, the other holding onto the strap of her bag.
It was green.
A wave of déjà vu washed over her as she recalled the dream, staring at her green backpack. And another thing, her bag wasn’t green. It’s never been green. It’s supposed to be b—
Quincy blinked at her ceiling, turning her eyes to see the sliver of light seeping into her room. She shifted her legs off the side of her bed, standing up and making her way to the corner she threw her [ ] bag. Shuffling a hand against the wall and bathing the room in light, her backpack sat innocently where she’d tossed it last night.
It was gr—blue. It was blue, a deep, almost navy, violet colour. Decorated with her uneven embroidered stars and sewn on patches. Accessories, keychains and button badges that clutter and clack and rattle with every other step. Entirely personalised, entirely hers, and absolutely not green.
She didn’t even remember why she had gotten up to check the colour of her bag. Why… how would it even suddenly turn green overnight? Why green of all colours?
Whatever weirdass dream she had felt like a void in her memories, stubbornly refusing to form connections to the other firing neurons. But she remembered feeling… unsettled? Confused? Still not the right word, something adjacent to that.
Whatever it was, it somehow pulled her out of bed on a Saturday of all days.
She promptly went back to sleep and forgot about it.