Go to your place.

There's a beach, which is funny because I am not a beach person, and yet, it's mysteriously calming. There is a beach at night. The sand is so soft and white, but not the kind that clings to your feet and clothes to the point of tough removal. The sky is dark, save the full moon and the blinking stars, the only source of light.

The beach goes on for as far as the eye can see. I'm walking. I'm beautiful. My hair falls down to my waist in long, dark waves, and straight bangs lay across my forehead, a combination of my old and new self. I have no makeup on, and still I am flawless. My entire body seems to shimmer and give off just a slight glow, so faint you would thing the moon was simply gracing my skin with its magnificent, cooling beams. On the contrary, my skin is actually glowing, just a tiny bit. My body is draped in a sleeveless, flowing, white gown that trails behind me when I walk, staying immaculate though it's dragging in the sand. The light breeze of the night sends the extensive silk of the dress dancing in the wind behind me as I walk. My eyes are bright blue and need no makeup to enhance the color. My face shows no signs of trouble, and I am at peace.

As I walk, the humble waves crash gently and softly against the shore a good distance away. The sweeping of the air brings the scent of salt to my nostrils, and yet at the same time, there's a sense of sweetness in the breeze as well. I approach a magnificent, black, shining, baby grand piano. The bright white and black keys seem to invite me to touch, to play. As I sit gracefully onto the black piano stool, settled neatly in the sand, my fingers grace the keys and beautiful music flows from my fingers, soon followed by the soothing voice that has come from a spot inside me I didn't know existed. The music is relaxing and warming, and as I play, myself and the piano glow brighter than before. I stand, but the music continues to fill my ears, a faint smile on my face.

I'm rather surprised a guitar is not laying next to the piano, but I'm sure it will be there next time I visit.

The sky begins to lighten, and I make note that it is my time to depart. I take one last longing glance at my piano, then turn my back and step forward toward the tiny black iridescent ball that lay glistening in the sand. My hands scoop it up and I watch intently. The ball starts dripping, and the slippery substance slips through my fingers onto the sand below, though surprisingly the sand does not absorb the liquid. The ball keeps melting but refuses to reduce in size. The dripping increases, and falling quicker and quicker as the splashing at my feet grows louder.

The ball explodes into a brilliant white light. The lack of sound is deafening, and for a moment I cannot see a thing. Just the blinding light around me. My beach returns to visibility, but all around me is a flooding of white liquid, similar to the consistancy and texture of what was falling from the black ball not even a minute ago. I turn to face my piano only to watch it be completely devoured in the white liquid. Even the sea is covered. I am in an abyss of bright, white fluid, but I am not being engulfed by it.

My eyes close and for a second more I can see the light reflecting against my eyelids. And then it is black.

And I return.