The sound of her mom's voice from the kitchen finally broke the spell.
"Miko! Get ready quickly, you're getting late for school!"
Miko rubbed her face, trying to shake off the grogginess. "I'm up!" she yelled back. Her throat felt dry, like she had been breathing in dust instead of air.
She sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her head to stop spinning. The room looked exactly the same as it did every morning: her desk piled with books, her school bag slumped in the corner, and the bright morning sun hitting the carpet.
In the large old cupboard lied about a hundred trophies covered with a layer of cellophane paper which was collecting dust. Those belonged to Miko which she had earned from years of participating in drawing competitions all around the city but now drawing felt like a foreign skill to her.
Still, her body felt heavy. When she stood up, her legs felt a bit shaky, like she had just finished a long workout.
"Miko? I mean it! Five minutes!" her mom called out again. She heard the sound of a plate clinking on the table.
"I'm coming, Mom!" Miko replied, louder this time.
She quickly grabbed her school uniform from the chair. She didn't want to think about the dream anymore. It was just a weird trick of her brain. She needed to focus on her breakfast and the bus she was about to miss.
As she reached for her bag, she noticed a small wet spot on her wooden nightstand. She stared at it for a second, confused. She hadn't spilled any water, and the window was closed. She wiped it away with her hand, feeling the cold moisture on her skin, then shook her head.
It's probably just condensation, she thought.
She took a deep breath, threw her bag over her shoulder, and headed for the kitchen.Miko sat at the kitchen table, pushing her food around. She looked exhausted, her face pale and her eyes dull. The headache from the dream was still there, pulsing behind her forehead.
"Mom, I don't want to go to school today," Miko said softly. "I have a really bad headache."
Her mother didn't offer a kind word. Instead, she spun around, her face full of anger.
"You know how much I'm spending on your school, and you still don't care about anything!" she shouted. "Why are you so selfish, Miko? Stop the drama and get ready... QUICK!"
Miko didn't argue. She just stared at the table as her mother kept talking, her voice turning into a bitter mumble.
"This girl is just like her father," her mother muttered, loud enough for Miko to hear. "Selfish. She wouldn't care if I died right here. All I do is work, and for what?"
Miko had heard it all before. These words were a routine part of her morning, just like the alarm clock. To her, this felt like another kind of drowning. Her mother's words felt heavy, pressing down on her just like the deep water in the void.
She stood up slowly, grabbed her bag, and walked toward the door. She didn't say goodbye. As she stepped outside, she felt completely empty, wondering why the "real world" felt just as cold as the dream she had escaped.