Dream or Reality

Jake had always been a heavy sleeper, but lately, he couldn’t tell if he was still asleep or if he was awake. It was as if the world around him was caught between two places: one where everything felt too real to be a dream, and another where things were just slightly off. The sensation gnawed at him, like trying to read a blurry sign.

It started a week ago. He’d woken up in his bed with no idea how he got there. At first, he thought it was just the grogginess of a good night's rest, but then little things began to happen that felt strange. The clock on his nightstand read 7:15 AM, but when he checked it five minutes later, it was 6:42. His reflection in the bathroom mirror didn’t look quite right. His face was a bit too pale, his eyes too wide.

He shrugged it off. Maybe he was just tired.

But the confusion grew. He’d walk into his kitchen, and the smell of coffee would fill the room, but when he poured a cup, it tasted like water. He reached for his phone to check the time, and the screen froze on a single image of his sister’s wedding from five years ago—nothing else would load, no matter how many times he tried.

One night, he sat up in bed, staring at the window. The streetlight outside flickered in the same rhythmic pattern—blink, blink, blink—but then it suddenly flashed bright and stayed that way. The light didn’t change for what felt like hours. He thought about calling someone, but then his phone wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t turn on, even though the battery was full.

He began to question everything. Was he still asleep? Was this some kind of strange dream? Or was he simply losing his mind? His friends noticed his unease, commenting on how tired he looked, how distracted he seemed. He tried to explain, but how could he describe something so... intangible?

One afternoon, while sitting at his desk at work, he looked up and saw his boss talking to him. She was smiling, but her eyes were empty. No pupils, no life. The longer he stared, the more her face seemed to blur, like it was melting away. Jake’s heart raced.

“Jake?” she asked, her voice echoing strangely in his ears.

“Yeah?” he replied, his mouth dry.

“You okay?” she asked again, her voice fading in and out. He blinked, and suddenly she was just a regular person again, her smile warm and normal.

That’s when Jake couldn’t stand it anymore. He needed answers. That night, he went for a walk under the moon, his shoes tapping softly on the pavement. He stopped at a street corner and stared into the darkness, feeling an overwhelming sense of being caught between two worlds.

He turned around and looked at the streetlights. They blinked, blinked, blinked—just like before. He was sure he was awake, He saw his mom, He was in his house. He started questioning himself, over and over, and over again. Putting his hand through his hair, but it felt as though he didnt touch anything, couldnt feel his hair. He saw his hair peeking above his eyes. Why could he feel it. He started denieing himself.

He was just tired, and only just tired

He didnt feel tired

So this time, Jake wasn’t so sure if he was awake.

And maybe, just maybe, he never really had been.