There are thirty seven and a half panels on the ceiling in Candace's room (I guess it's my room now too). I know this because for the last forty-five minutes I've been repeatedly counting them over and over again. Every time I feel my eyelids start to droop, I see the burning buildings and Mrs. Thea slumped limply on the ground. So I just lie on my back, staring at the strange shadows of moonshine chase each other across the room. Trying to be quiet, I shuffle onto my other side so that I'm staring at the wall with the closet. The closet door is open just enough for me to see the faint outline of a tall man, his hand lying mangled at his side. He stares at me with yellow, glowing eyes that seem to never blink... Quickly I re-focus my eyes and reassure myself for the seventh time this evening that it's just a pile of clothes and boxes. I don't know why, but I just can't seem to fall asleep. Maybe it’s the soft whirring hum of the generator, or the lack of forest noises I usually fall asleep to. It could be the mattress, which is abnormally soft. That probably sounds weird, but for most of my life I've been sleeping on mattresses stuffed with dried grasses so I guess I'm used to that.
When I was little, I used to have bad dreams. I would wake up screaming late into moonshine so my dad would grab some sleeping mats, soft gleobine pelts, and pillows so we could go sleep under the sky. He would point out funny shapes and animals that the stars formed and tell me stories about them. I always fell asleep after that, and it was the good kind of sleep; the kind of sleep you have when you don't wake up until mid-morning.
Looking back on it now, I wish I had never found that letter. If I hadn't, I might still be sleeping at the Cold Cabin with my dad there to comfort me, my mom there to make me smile, and even Kile, who might have been the pinnacle of my annoyance but was also the source of most of my fun. Was any of that ever real? Where did they go? Were they ever there?
Suddenly, I just can't take it anymore so I slip out of the sheets and slide across the floor towards the door. Before I know it, I'm standing outside in the empty hallway with absolutely no idea where to go. So I just start to walk. First a left turn, then a right. Up some stairs, past a long corridor. Wherever I go, the unearthly ringing sound of silence fills my ears. Eventually, I come across an elevator and decide to go as high as I can. I mean, why not?
A soft 'ding' informs me I've gone as far as I can. When I step outside, I'm standing in the middle of a greenhouse, or maybe it's a laboratory... Regardless, it's beautiful. Green vines, plants and shrubs fill the spaces between cobblestone pathways. As I wander along, I admire the intricately designed flowers that come in a huge variety of colors, and the peculiar cactuses with their sharp, needle-like thorns. After going around the entire space, I find myself at the centre, where a group of desks, microscopes and carts are all facing a towering tree with a pearly colored trunk and emerald green leaves. It's tall, graceful arms stretch high towards the ceiling, which is an arching dome of glass. I can see the beautiful display of the moonshine sky from here, with its blinding, fiery, lights that shine: muted just enough for our small eyes to admire.
I take out my necklace, which is tucked underneath the flannel pajamas I was given, and stare at the shape.
"Is that Recorpea?" A voice from up high asks curiously. I gasp as I quickly jump back from the tree and notice the dark moving shape of someone in the branches a few meters above me.
"Who are you? How long have you been here?!" I ask incredulously. How could I not have noticed? I was trained by the best, after all.
"You met me earlier. Sort of. I'm Cole; the guy in the elevator." He starts to climb down the tree and I can see him more clearly.
"So what changed?" I ask, folding my arms.
"What do you mean?" he says, looking confused.
"Well in the elevator I was an 'unidentified species' that apparently no one could hear, and now I'm the newbie you're trying to scare. Or was there another reason you were sitting in that tree?" I reply sarcastically.
