Foreign.

He stumbled in the dark, his hands reaching out for something to hold on to. It was stuffy to the extent that he found himself suffocating; his lungs working on overdrive to gather whatever air blew his way. 

There was no familiar sound of insects, no rustling of leaves, no engines running in the distance. There was no light, not even a mirage. 

He circled as he moved forward, his eyes thirsty to see. It was the same all around him, completely dark. He'd expected his eyes to get used to the dark and start identifying things around him, but they still saw only black. 

He was trapped in a sea of darkness, a dead sea of darkness. He blinked, he pinched his arm, he shook his head to come out of this puzzling dream. But it wasn't a dream, as un-real as it may seem to him, it was his reality, and that of many before him. 

But he didn't know that. He just knew that he was, at this moment in his ordinary life, stuck in an extraordinary situation, and that he had no idea what to do.