116

--TheirWorld--

Ba-Dum.

Ba-Dum

Ba-Dum-tak-dum-tak-dum. Ba-dum-tak-dum-tak-dum.

Bang, bang!

And from the darkness —

“Kyaaa!” she cried. Tendrils from beneath rose up around her legs, twisting and grabbing at them like octopus arms pulled her down. Down, and down — further than was possible in her own sense of awareness. The floor turned liquid, and she fell deeper. Crying out, her eyes searched for the two lights that glimmered as they as always head, now floating on the water’s surface. Now, a dim, spotty reflection glimmering beneath in an upside down world.

Deeper, deeper.

She kicked and pulled against then, struggling to break free. Her head began to bob beneath the surface, making her fight ever harder — but the demons in depths were too strong. Gasping between the flashes of light and dark, she cried.

Deeper, deeper.

Inch by inch.

Under, now.

And then, freedom.

The tendrials turned to mist, and she fell up. Back to the surface — but the upside down world had become the right side up one. Coughing and hacking still, she groped the floor to be sure of its state.

This world was not as dark and black as the first, but instead, was a shadowy grey. Concrete and smoke at night. The tunnels remained, but instead of bright light, they too were gray, shimmering with pockets of black and white in geometric patterns, like spiky but liquid metal.

She pulled herself up and looked between them. Wiping her nose, she stumbled towards the tunnels. If they were reflections of the tunnels she'd traveled to before, would they go to the same place? Or was this a different place entirely? But where was it she had gone in the first place? She did not know. There were no names, only the tunnels.

What was on the other side?

And between them, from a slight crevice in the floor, appeared a pair of white fox made of smoke.

Lies, one voice said.

Answers, said another.

Answers. Answers to what? She didn’t know, but a fierce pull in her heart drove her to stand before the one at the left, and run a hand over the shimmering gateway.

What if the answers you get aren’t the ones that you want? One voice said again.

They would be better than nothing, she decided.

The foxes looked on as she stepped in.

Bathed in light, she walked through an open door. It was a hospital room. Private, from the looks of it, and for a child. She might have mistaken it for a bedroom if it weren’t for the wide window that looked out into a hall where doctors and nurses and children running around in seafoam green robes. A chill ran down her spine.

Medical monitoring equipment hummed dully near a child-sized bed. The blankets were butter-colored, with little blue butterflies embroidered in the corners, and resting next to a soft mint pillow, was a small black fox plush. Sitting on the bed, she picked the plush up, and stared into its green eyes. It had a name, she knew, but like most things in these dreams, she could not remember it. Instead, she hugged it to her chest.

The furniture matched the rest of the room, with a bright yellow bookcase underneath the window to the inside was cluttered with books that hadn’t been put away properly. It was painted with little flowers and blue butterflies in the same style as the embroidery on the blankets. A deep green recliner with a large yellow pillow and a fluffy faux-fur blanket draped across the back was at the bedside. A nightstand next to it had glasses of water and a well worn book of fairytales. She went over and flipped through some of the pages, but all the words were blurred out to her. In her heart, though, was great affection.

Placing the little black fox back next to the pillow, she made her way to the other side of the room. Underneath a window that looked out onto the ocean, was a long desk filled with paper and paints and crayons. She laughed a bit as she began sorting through them. Tears came to her eyes as she looked at the beautiful childishness in them. There was no skill, but rather joy. A smile came to her lips, but it was sorrow that washed over her.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” an all too familiar voice asked — yet she couldn’t place it. She knew it, but she didn’t turn around. She didn’t want him to see her. She didn’t want him to know just how badly she’d been beaten. “How did you get passed the staff? I gave them strict instructions that I needed to clear you before you were allowed into the ward, let alone this room.”

“Sorry, doc. I snuck in; don’t blame them,” she said, her voice breaking like the waves below.

“I guess I’ll need to have a chat with security instead,” he grumbled. “Come on. Out, before she comes back from testing.”

“I want to see her.”

“You can’t. Guardian’s and doctor’s orders.”

“I have to see her,” she said through gritted teeth. “Please. One last time…”

“Like I told you, if you clean up, you can be here as often as you —”

“I’m admitting myself,” she told him.

There was a long pause. She half laughed and looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep herself from crying. “... I… I’m happy to hear that,” he said. “I’m just…”

“I screwed up, okay? Is that what you want to hear? Me admit it?” she said, squeezing her eyes shut.

“That’s not…” he started.

She scoffed. “You are one really awkward bastard, you know that, Sere? I just want to see her. Just for a little bit. Please — and then I’ll be gone until some other stupid doctors tell me I’m well enough to leave.”

“... Are you at least sober today?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Yes,” she lied, figuring her probably had known the answer to that question before he’d asked it, but she didn’t want to admit it anyway.

He proved he suspicious with a scoff. “Whatever. Where are you going?”

“You gave the card…”

“You know I won’t let you back into this clinic if you’re lying to me.”

She turned and came face to face with Doctor Sahae Sere, his arms crossed and his tail twitching. White and purple feathers raised slightly in irritation, he stared. His narrowed eyes told her that he didn’t trust her one bit — but he was the kind of good, easy to manipulate sort that meant every word he said.

And she hated him.

She hated him for any number of reasons, but she hated him most because everyone trusted him. They trusted him, and not her. Unlike her, he was good. Of course, she knew she’d never given them any reason to trust her or believe in her — but she hated it nevertheless, perhaps even more because she knew herself so well.

“I know,” she told him, gripping on the drawings that was on the table. It had been a drawing of a little girl holding a sutak doctor’s hand.

Doctor Sere sighed and began to stalk away. “Fine,” he said, then pointed at her. “Wait here and behave yourself. I’ll bring her over.” He paused and looked back at her, his golden eyes glinting in the window’s light. “She’s… missed you, you know.”

She nodded and started wiping her face off. In moments, Sere returned, and at his side was a small girl. It had been so long.

Whole body shuddering as she looked at the little girl, she fell to her knees to catch her as she ran to her.

“Mommy!” the little girl gasped in an excited voice “You came! I knew you would!”

No more than twelve years old. Thin — too thin, in a seafoam colored robe. Too thin, too pale, with sunken eyes and cheeks. Short dark hair, bight, blue-grey eyes.

She could hardly breath as she smiled, holding back her tears — she didn’t want her to see. She wanted to be strong for her.

And then the name that escaped from lips was like lightning:

“Lai’ara...”