THE AFTERHOUR

VI. The Breakout:

They must have sat there in silence for the next hour or so, in shock. Amy was still staring at the drawing of the Tower, which was counterproductive to her calming down, but at least she had stopped crying. She started first, her voice still shaking:

"I started having dreams of it last week. It was so real, Pete. I have had nightmares before, but nothing has shaken me like this damn Tower. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't even move. "

"The dreams started two days ago for me. I dreamed of a Void, and that Tower floating around in nothingness. It was like the thing was calling to me. How could we have the same dreams?"

Amy was quiet. This was the first time he had ever seen her like this. So afraid. So serious. She was deep in thought. Her curly hair was all tangled up and messy, she had previously tried to knock herself in the head repeatedly with her fists.

"You know... this place is an asylum after all, maybe we are just that crazy...It's fine for me, but you poor thing..."

"No." - he dismissed - "Being crazy doesn't grant people psychic powers, Amy. Plus, it's not just this. Doctor Wells scares me, she was talking about stuff I have never told her before, things she shouldn't know."

"Well, that's comforting. Our therapist is a mind-reading monster. Must be good for her line of work..."

There was a question he had been asking himself, one that seemed too ridiculous for him at the time. But maybe, he had just been too afraid to ask:

"Amy, does this place feel real to you?"

The poor girl didn't answer, she was looking out the windows where the apple tree was, distracted.

"Time doesn't feel right" - Pete continued - "The people don't either. Nothing is consistent. When was the last time anyone behaved the way human beings do around here?"

He thought of the ominous red door, the one that magically appeared out of nowhere. He turned to Amy:

"There is a red door that I have never seen before to the left side of the white corridor leading to Well's office. Do you know where it leads?"

"I don't know" - She shrugged, still distracted. - "Just some maintenance stuff probably."

He shuddered. A cold chill ran down his spine, that's exactly what he was told earlier by Fib the orderly, word for word. She even shrugged her shoulders. Pete looked at Amy: her curly brown hair, the brown eyes that were always wide and alert, the little scar on her forehead from that little incident with her father from when she was a child,... He had known her for two years. Slowly and carefully, as to avoid triggering her, Pete told her about Fib, what he had said about the red door. His patient friend didn't freak out like he thought she would, she just slowly turned her her red, sad eyes to him, a single tear ran down her cheek:

"I don't feel real either, do I?"

He struggled to sleep that night, or maybe he didn't want to, He didn't want to go back to those dreams. Thoughts were swirling in his mind like a brewing tornado. He was afraid to have to go back to Wells tomorrow, he was afraid of the people here. But most of all, he wanted to know what was behind the mysterious red door. Pete laid uneasily in his bed, looking at the apple tree outside bathing in the pale moonlight. It had been there for as long as he could remember. He always stared at it at night when everything was shrouded in darkness, it had become part of his routine. It just seemed strange to him, the way it just stood there, still and quiet, unresponsive to the elements. The apple tree seemed eerily familiar to him, like it was from another life. But before he could dwell further on that thought, he fell asleep.