Utopia

         I see it.

         There, on that luxurious plain of green.

         A breathtaking sight--in more ways than one.

         She lies still. The breeze intensifies, and strands of her dark thread-like hair sway back and forth in perfect harmony with the green grass around her.          

         I draw myself closer--not by choice, but by obligation. My body simply tells me this is something I need to see.

         Her eyes remain closed, and her breaths paper thin; a deep sleep. Free from disturbance. Free from worry. Her features are distinctly elegant--almost as if she were a doll, handcrafted to near-perfection. A gem dangles loosely from her neck. It lets off a strange gleam. A peculiar gleam. A gleam that makes me want to reach out and take it for myself. Normally, such an accessory would never catch my eye, but this... I just can't stop staring at it.

         I decide to wait until she wakes up. There's no way I could leave. Not now. I know I can't stay here forever, but I would at least like to enjoy this bliss while I can.

         Time passes, and soon enough, I find myself lying flat on the grass as well. The warm earth is welcoming me like a soft pillow, and it's no less than soothing. How long have I been here? I don't know, nor do I care.

         I look to my side. The lush greenery, the tranquil sky, and the beaming, all-seeing sun; these all fill my vision. The scent is fresh, and fills you to the brim with positive thoughts. If one were to describe this scene with a single word, it would be a utopia.

         But out of every tiny aspect of this scenery--every pinch of grass, every cloud in the sky--nothing stands out more beautifully than this motionless doll, lying arms-in-arms with nature.

         The grass rustles. Slowly, the motionless doll begins to move.

         Her eyes open, and my heart flutters in response. They gleam Azure, a tint of blue that matches almost identically to the clear sky above.

         "Good morning," I greet her like an old friend, "Did you sleep well?"

         She responds with a soft voice, and a smile so radiant it shines brighter than any sun.

         "It was a long dream--full of many, many interesting things."

         Her answer strikes me as rather vague. Seeing it is a dream, it's likely she already forgot it. Experiences that seem a lifetime long can degrade to a series of images and feelings in a flash--that's how dreams are. They dwell in your subconscious, and barely wander far from it. At least, for most people.

         I realize I'm getting too sucked into my own thoughts, and quickly think up a response.

         "Well, dreams are like that," I say, "They can be anything from a hellish nightmare to a utopi--"

         I stumble on my words. ...Utopia?

         Isn't that...exactly like this plain of green before me?

         No conflict. No intervention. No anything. The fresh scent, the clear sky, the lush grass and wildlife, the softness of the earth, the bright sun, the horizon that extends farther than the eye can see, and finally, this beautiful girl that is lying right next to me, asking me these very words with an unnaturally bright smile: "What's wrong?"

         Perfection. It's all perfect. All that any human could want. This isn't something I could grasp with my fingertips, ever.

         If there is any word one would use to describe this place, it would be a heaven--no, it would be a dream.

         But is this really the case? Is this scene really a facade formed by my subconscious? And this girl--what is she? Surely she's just a figment of my imagination. Then why am I almost positive I've seen her before?

         With bated breath, I ask her a question of my own.

         "Tell me, where are we right now?"

         "Whatever do you mean?" She tilts her head for a moment, as if puzzled by my awfully simplistic question.

         Then, she points. Not to me. Not to the sky. But to the soft earth below.

         "We're here, silly."

         My heart flutters once more, but this time for an entirely different reason.

         The moment I approach my answer, everything distorts. The grass stops being grass, and the sun ceases to shine. The girl slowly crumbles away, leaving behind nothing but a devilish scowl.

         Then, it all fades to black.