1. The dance hall is empty when I arrive. Silent except for the faint humming of the city and the ticking of the clock on the wall, the same sort as those they use in the classroom. Fooling us. Deceiving us. Tick tock, tick tock, as if anything actually exists. Sunshine through the windows, diminished by frosted glass, yet reflecting on the mirrors and creating blurry shapes of light on the wooden floor. Everything is beige and white and soft shades of pink in here. It’s nice, I think.
2. It’s different after class. The slight nervousness I always get before teaching is gone, and so my head can’t stay as silently calm. The sunshine faded slowly and I didn’t realise how dark it was until I turned on the light and saw colours instead of shades. The city seems brighter though, clearer. Starting to dance. The colours flashing by my eyes when I close them are sharper.
3. At a youth meeting tonight they spoke about the kingdom of Jesus and I almost teared up because home, I thought. Home. And tonight there was the aftermath of a full moon, the actual one must have been covered by the clouds for several nights. I looked up at it, small clouds rushing past. I didn’t even know, I thought. Somehow that meant something. When at midnight I walked home over frosty ice, light reflecting in piles of snow as tall as me, I thought the world was almost achingly beautiful. 

I start out normal and then I become so fucking strange.