QUEER

Chapter 49 - Layers and Membranes

Dane didn't understand what was going on. Just a few moments ago he heard the glass breaking and felt its sharp pieces cutting through his skin. Then he was wrapped in some eerie stillness under the sheets. He panicked, but his screams were muddled. The fabric seemed to attack and choke him, or maybe he was just imagining things. The dim light from the lamp on the bedside table offered some relief from the madness that engulfed his senses.

He was convinced he had woken up from a terrible nightmare, one that exhausted him terribly. He rubbed his eyes, taking in shallow breaths in quick successions. He was confused and thirsty.

David, on the other hand, snored mildly. He looked so peaceful. Yet there Dane was staring curiously at him as if he was some specimen that needed to be inspected. Dane leaned over to watch him closely. His eyes were tightly shut, but his lips were like doors that stood ajar. Dane had the craziest idea to smell David's breath and use the tip of his nose to gently poke his lower lip. The sharp edges of David's beard had popped out of his skin. They tickled Dane's lips as he kissed David's chin. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Dane got out of bed, feeling heavy and weird. Dane examined the surroundings because for a second they seemed a little distorted. 

His feet made thumping noises against the stairs as he climbed down. He was in the middle of the staircase when he heard Alice bark. It was just one chilling bark that reverberated in the living room. "Alice, it's me," Dane called out nonchalantly. 

She would've come running to him and jumping over if she was in the house. Dane reached for the light switch and surveyed the room for any sign of her. Everything was still, so he headed to the kitchen to get some water. He gulped the entire glass of water, but he was still thirsty. He took another glassful, but he couldn't feel anything running down his throat, which remained dry. He thought another glass would fix the physiological error. Maybe another glass. And another glass. The next thing he knew, there were ten empty glasses on the table, which he stared at for a while in utter confusion. It was a ridiculous sight. He decided to go back to the living room.

The door stood open. For a moment it looked like a black rectangle whose oddness puzzled him with its strangeness. He walked slowly towards it.

Nothing was visible outside. It was like standing at a door that opened to complete blackness. Dane should be seeing houses across the street from where he was standing. However, no matter how hard he squinted, he couldn't make out anything in the soot-filled air in front of him. He wanted to shut the door, but the curiosity to find out what was out there was too compelling.

Dane stepped into the black fog, wondering if he would fall into a void. He felt a bit relieved when his foot hit the concrete. Perhaps it was okay to continue -- or so he thought. His hands had searched for anything in the darkness before he could ask himself what to do if ever they touched something. Desperation quickly consumed him. He soon regretted being out there and letting himself be vulnerable. He turned around, but he was already surrounded by the pitch darkness.

A dog barked. It sounded far. Or near. It was confusing. It barked again. This time he was sure it was close. Dane ran towards the sound.

The black fog became a gray mist. The gray mist thinned and the surroundings became clearer. Dane was standing in the middle of an unfamiliar street in what looked like a suburb. The houses were surrounded by dense vegetation, a few leafless trees and towering pines.

A white dog with a bit of unkempt fur stood by the fence, panting and wagging its tail. It barked at him. It seemed familiar, but the house behind it isn't. The small house looked old, not necessarily dilapidated. Maybe some upkeep would freshen it up. The windows needed cleaning. The wall needed some painting. The lush bush in front of it gave anyone an impression of neglect; no one was taking care of the front yard. The dog continued to stare at him like it knew him. He was trying his best to remember its name, which seemed just at the tip of his tongue because he remembered saying its name earlier. It ran towards him. He too walked closer, but he hit a wall of air. Dane couldn't get through. Pushing the barrier felt like pushing a clear but thick membrane that rippled with every pinch.