Sleep comes faster than expected. Her body ignores the hundred bustling thoughts that pack her head too full to think and relaxes against the furry ball of warmth curled at her side. She barely notices the descent as one moment the darkness of her room melts into the darkness of open sky. Her pillow becomes a tangled nest of grey grass and the sound of feline snoring becomes the sound of rough night wind.

She stands without thinking and walks around under a starless sky. The grey grass crinkles and crackles under her feet. Withered daffodil heads litter her path. She frowns and shields her eyes from the hair that whips across her vision.

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

The dry earth hurts her feet and she shivers against the wind. Where did the gleaming sun go? Where did all the light, the soft yellow flowers, the vibrancy go? Everything feels dark and dead.

Something flashes at her from the edge of the forest. She walks toward it, ignoring pine cones and pokey stones that emerge more frequently through the thinning grass.

“Thanks for helping me before. I don’t, um, know what you did, but she’s okay now. I’m okay now, too.”

She pulls a pine branch out of her path and brushes the sap residue against her leg. “Sage is here for a while. I know you didn’t do that, but I thought maybe you’d like to know. That you’d be glad we’re getting along again - at least, I think we are.”

She spots it now, dappled under tree branches and moonlight. The mirror waits wedged between two trees, supported by their branches, and as she smiles at it, her twin smiles back. The glass, warped and bubbled at the edges, covers her reflection with a soapy sheen. She can barely recognize his face.

“Why are you hiding? Hey, say something.”

She steps closer and presses her hand against the glass. Her reflection does the same and as she frowns at it, they frown in unison. No. Not a twin, just herself. The mirror feels cold against her touch. She and her reflection step back with synchronized feet. Empty. The mirror is empty, just like everything else that lingers in this hollow dreamscape.