Again.

          I awaken again. The lights blind me for a second before adjusting. Around me is the coffee shop I went to before work when I was in the real world. The walls are a cream brown with fairy lights hanging from the ceiling to the floor. A quiet pop station plays in the background overpowering by the conversations of people that permeate the air. I was sitting alone in a booth in the back of the indie café, with a cup of coffee placed directly in front of me on the glossy wood table. I know better than to trust this fake reality. It knows I’m thirsty. I don’t know how, but it knows everything. As I contemplate getting up, I notice something. The cliche pop music removed from the atmosphere. I look over the back of my booth to see an empty store, but the inaudible conversations still rumble. It seems to get louder and closer and louder and closer and louder. I slapped my hands against my ears in a vain attempt to stop the ringing pain in my head. I could feel my eardrums bursting as the cold blood begins to flow against my hands. I couldn’t take it. I slammed my head against the table. My nose broke. I slammed my head against the table. My head splintered. I slammed my head against the table. My vision failed. 
          ​I waken again. The lights blind me for a second before adjusting. The leather restraints penetrate deep into my skin. I can hear a doctor outside the cell-like room. “He escaped again, and he’s getting worse.” They’re lying to me. A masked reality of obscured vision,  and I’m the only one that knows.