"Save the boy! Save the boy!"
Bryn joined her parents in looking for a new house.
On the way to the new location, her mind was tweeting back to her was "save the boy! save the boy!"
When the realtor reached a certain location in the new house to show them, he said: "Behind this door we have a very light room. Anything placed in there it will go down a small lift. Its button needs some fixing. In fact, it will hold only a few pounds weight worth of stuff, luggage, wool, you know, everything light." "In other words", Bryn's dad intervened, "we can't look inside... or go down below; we are too heavy." "Yes. It's not really meant for humans. Well, unless they are very light in weight."
That is when...
"May I go inside and take a look?"
"My dear, Brynnie, you have so much stuff on you today, it won't even hold you."
"Save the boy!!" - Brynnie heard it again, prior to getting into a... "light" argument with her parents about going in there.
Finally, she took advantage of a couple of hectic minutes and sneaked inside that lift. She measured herself, looked into the box, checked it 2-3 times up, down, sideways and such.
At last, she went inside, and surprisingly she just fit in that box, that lift... and woosh she went down, although it wasn't too harsher ride, just like falling on slow motion on a soft hay. There was light inside that lift, and there was oxygen. Just in time for her to breathe a sigh of relief when she reached the bottom.
Once there, it felt as if someone reached for her hand, and although she didn't see the invisible one, she trusted to take the hand.
It felt as if the air folded and was pretty friendly with regards to helping her.
"Why am I here?", Bryn inquired rather timidly.
"Why are you here?"
"OK, you don't have to play the inquiring echo!", Bryn remarked, sporting a smirk on her face, hands on her shoulders. "Hmm, nothing here but some old clothes. In fact, they're very Middle Age type of clothes."
"Nothing here but you, in some new clothes. And you are in your middle aged mind!"
"OK, voice, get out of my head and into my life! Like, now!", her pointing finger was ever so demanding it!
"Who told you to come here, Bryn?? Up you go!"
The same hand that acted friendly a minute ago, acted swiftly right now: it was as if the air folded again in the measure of a support, placed her in the lift, and thrusted her right back up where she came from.
"Well, that was strange!", she said to herself, a bit loud, while dusting off, adjusting her clothes, prompting her parents to yell from the other room, asking if she was OK.
"I'm OK! Coming there in a minute!"
And right when she was about to advance, she heard, "I didn't tell you to some and save the lift from its lightheartedness, now, did I?"
Bryn's eyebrows did the fuzzy-wuzzy, one after the other, in quick succession, as a matter of fact!
"I told you to save the boy!"
She ran out of there fast, grabbed her parents by the hand, told them this is not a house she'd like to live in, and before you can say Brynging down the house, they were out of there driving like in a mad cartoon, with smoke coming out of Bryn's ears rather than from the wheels as speeding into the distance!
