I see many people chanting in an orange world, pink eyes and mascara barricade their faces. At first it seems beautiful, but as I get closer it looks fake.
An idea leaps to my lips.
“What if we all had the same religion?” I ponder.
We all start to chant about God and Jesus and out faith, like in a monastery. Somehow I know the words.
I struggle to get up, but it’s like there’s an arm holding me down.
As I continue to chant along, my eyes begin to sparkle with pink, and my eyelashes thicken and darken until I look like everyone else.
But I’m not happy with being like everyone else. I try to change the words around, start saying what I think or just random words that pop into my mind. Anything to be different.
My eyes revert back to their usual cloudy-day pale-blue color and my eyelashes thin and become blond again.
Never had I been more thankful to see my natural beauty, not covered up by makeup or deceiving views.
“It’s time to change things up,” I declare, before this orange land fades and I wake up.