Through the Painting

Underneath the tablecloth

The world around Addilyn spun in a dizzying blur. It was as if she were tumbling through the lens of a kaleidoscope. Slowly, her vision refocused, and she was able to take in her new surroundings. Wherever that painting had taken her, she definitely wasn't in New York City anymore. 

The room she now stood in was rather pristine looking and the whitewashed walls complimented the furniture rather well. A grand mirror stood opposite her. It had beautiful golden framework and existed proudly in all its elegance. Addilyn stopped and stared at herself, mouth slightly agape. She had known that she must've looked rough but her appearance was almost entirely unrecognizable compared to the last time she'd seen it. The reality of it left her kind of shocked. Her face was covered in grime and looked extremely gaunt, while her hair hung matted and in knots. The thing that struck her the most were her eyes. Her soft hazel eyes looked terribly sad. 

Tearing herself away from the reflection, she began reassessing her current predicament. If she listened carefully, she could make out footsteps approaching and indistinct chatter. Someone was coming. Searching frantically for a place to hide, she dove for the mahogany table. It was already set with fine china and silverware, as if it were waiting for someone. Ducking underneath the olive colored tablecloth, Addilyn held her breath as the door clicked open.

"-and it's been an awful long time since you've visited. I know you're busy but desperate times call for desperate measures. There are few of you and the rip is growing stronger. If we can't fix it, then that's the end. The end of everything." A man with a scratchy voice spoke urgently to his companion. In response, a softer and much smoother voice began speaking.

"I know. It's just that, well, we haven't found what we're looking for." An indignant humph followed this statement.

"You know very well-" Something cut him off. It was followed by muffled cries of annoyance as the scratchy voiced man tried to speak through the hand covering his mouth.

"Shh. Someone's here." The woman half whispered with unintentional gusto. Addilyn could immediately feel the panic setting in. She felt her heart pounding and her muscles constricting, while her head reeled with questions. For starters, how did the woman even know she was there? Before she even really had time to process any of it, the tablecloth was whipped away from the table. She quickly connected voices to people. The old man had a big, slightly bent nose and a crippled leg with which he supported with a cane. Addilyn stood up, and looked curiously at the woman. It was the same woman she had followed into the painting.

"Who are you and more importantly, how are you here?" The woman answered fiercely but there was clearly an underlying tone of fear in her voice. Whoever she was, she sounded half afraid of whatever answer she might receive.

"My name is Addilyn. I- well I followed you through the painting." She decided it couldn't hurt to tell them the truth. The pair exchanged a look and then stared with awestruck wonder at the teen standing in front of them.