I woke up in the dead of night, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. The vivid dream still lingered, unlike any I'd ever had.

It wasn't always like this, you know, before any of the dreams. Before he came, everything was normal, or so I viewed it to be. Yes, it was harsh and negative, but it wasn't like this.

I was walking through the bustling hallways, exchanging laughter and smiles with my friends. The excitement of the school day seemed to reverberate through every cell of my body. But beneath the surface of my joy, a nagging sense of unease simmered, like a subtle tremor before an earthquake.

At first, I tried to brush off the feeling, attributing it to mere nerves or a lingering memory of a bad dream. But as I made my way to my locker, the sensation grew, spreading from my stomach to my chest, making my heart beat just a little bit faster.

I spun the dial on my combination lock, the familiar click-click-click a comforting sound, but my mind began to wander. What could be causing this sense of foreboding? Was it a test I hadn't studied for? A confrontation with a classmate?

As I opened my locker door, a flutter of papers and notes spilled out, and my gaze landed on a scribbled reminder: "Math test today!" My eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought that must be the source of my anxiety. But the feeling persisted, refusing to be explained away by a simple test.

My friends, Lily and bobby bounded up to me, chattering about their plans for the weekend. I forced a smile, trying to shake off the ominous feeling, but it clung to me like a shadow.

"What's wrong, Juke?" Lily asked, noticing the faint furrow between my eyebrows.

I hesitated, unsure how to articulate the vague dread that had settled within me. "I don't know... just a weird feeling, I guess."

Bobby's expression turned serious. "Maybe it's just nerves about the test. We'll study together during lunch, and you'll ace it."

I nodded, grateful for my friends' reassurance, but the uneasy sensation lingered, refusing to be silenced.

I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, that something was waiting just beyond the horizon, ready to disrupt the vibrant rhythm of their school day.

My heart skipped a beat as I felt a sudden tap on my shoulder. I turned to see a blonde girl, whose soft sage eyes locked onto mine for a fleeting moment. No words were exchanged, but the intensity or the gaze sent a shiver down my spine.

Before I could react, she handed me a yellow note folded into a precise star. My fingers instinctively wrapped around it as our eyes met once more.

Suddenly, the ground beneath us began to shake violently. The lights in the hallway flickered, and lockers rattled loudly. Pandemonium erupted as students screamed and scrambled for safety.

In the chaos, the blonde girl vanished, dashing away with an urgent speed that left me stunned, "Hey, wait!" My voice was drowned out by the cacophony.

I saw Lily run towards me, horror in her eyes. A loud crashing noise hummed in my ear as a huge metallic tentacle hand grabbed hold of Lily through the roof. The hand retracted, revealing a body. A glass cube with a floating black substance at its center. The huge hand placed Lily into its center, the glass becoming almost water as it let her through. It consumed her. She then was floating unconscious inside the black substance.

From behind, I felt something grab my waist. I tried fighting back, but the cube had gotten me.

That's all I can remember. The only memory I've been able to recall after these dreams shattered the hold that was over my mind. I was confused and scared. I then looked out over beyond my bed onto my desk, and there it was, a pearl marbled by various hues of green glowing in the dark – the same pearl from my dreams.

Breath caught in my throat. My dreams were revealing the truth.

His control was slowly cracking. I stood up and walked to my desk.

My fingers tightened around the green pearl. The visions and dreams had been recurring, beckoning me toward a truth hidden beneath the surface.

Suddenly, I was hit by a vision.

In it, I stood before a mirror. But my reflection wasn't my own. Millions of green pearls floated around a confident, strong, and free person.

The pearls seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy.

Frightened, I hesitated to touch the pearl, but I did. And all the pearls dropped down. As I looked down, I saw that I was standing in abyssal water. I was almost like Jesus. Behind me, a dark reflection lingered, its presence menacing.

I snapped out of the vision, gasping.

The green pearl still clutched in my hand seemed to radiate an intense glow.

"This can't be real," I whispered.

Yet, the vision was the same as my dreams that had been recurring, beckoning me toward a truth.

My utopia wasn't perfect; it was a facade.

This brainwashing had convinced me of a flawless world. But the visions revealed a dystopian reality.

As I settled into my chair, a sliver of paper caught my eye, tucked away under a book. I gently lifted it, and a flurry of cryptic messages and notes spilled out. These were my own scribbled warnings, left for myself during fleeting moments of clarity.

Each time I awakened from the brainwashing, I'd frantically jot down clues, hoping to uncover the truth. But every time I edged closer, the veil of forgetfulness would descend, pulling me back into the darkness. My memories erased, I'd revert to my brainwashed state, oblivious to the secrets I'd uncovered.

The notes now seemed like a desperate attempt to communicate with my own fragmented self. I scanned the notes, searching for any thread that might lead me out of the labyrinth.

Some phrases leapt out:

"They're watching."

"Trust no one."

"Remember the dreams."

My heart pounded as I realized these messages were my own attempts to break free from the cycle. But what did they mean? And who was behind the brainwashing?

My head throbbed with a relentless intensity, as if my mind was shattering like a broken mirror. Every crack etched into my consciousness represented a question screaming to be answered. Shards of thoughts pierced me, each one a nagging fragment of uncertainty.

Which pieces belonged together? How could I reassemble the truth? The more I stared into the fractured glass, the more distorted my reflection became.

Who was I, really?

Why did my dreams whisper secrets, only to vanish like mist at dawn?

Each crack in the mirror seemed to echo a single, haunting phrase: "Remember."