TiniestTinsel

It’s cold when Tine wakes up. She thinks she might be in her room, but it’s like everything is washed out and greyed. It’s completely silent, not even her shifting rustling the sheets. Unsettling, is the word she would put to it. The unnatural silence is much like cotton buried deep in her ears, and yet not even muted sounds make it through. What’s... happening? She isn’t sure, but at the very least she figures she should wander around a bit to see what’s happening. Tine stood, legs oddly shaky as she makes her way around the attic space. She goes to pick up a pencil from her desk and finds it stuck, as though everything is melded together. It’s all so—so strange, and yet she’s not panicking. Not yet, at least. She wonders vaguely if perhaps she’s dreaming, if this is all a manifestation of her subconscious. But she’s so aware, how could this possibly be a dream? Downstairs is much the same. No people, no life, no sound, just deafening quiet and washed out color. And the chilling

It’s cold when Tine wakes up. She thinks she might be in her room, but it’s like everything is washed out and greyed. It’s completely silent, not even her shifting rustling the sheets. Unsettling, is the word she would put to it. The unnatural silence is much like cotton buried deep in her ears, and yet not even muted sounds make it through. What’s... happening? She isn’t sure, but at the very least she figures she should wander around a bit to see what’s happening. Tine stood, legs oddly shaky as she makes her way around the attic space. She goes to pick up a pencil from her desk and finds it stuck, as though everything is melded together. It’s all so—so strange, and yet she’s not panicking. Not yet, at least. She wonders vaguely if perhaps she’s dreaming, if this is all a manifestation of her subconscious. But she’s so aware, how could this possibly be a dream? Downstairs is much the same. No people, no life, no sound, just deafening quiet and washed out color. And the chilling