Things take a turn in the ever-so-popular Luke Raynott's life when his night-terrors manifest into physical form as bruises and the involvement of a boy who holds his attention like a magnet.
...
I tried gulping down my anxiety. Laura went through without a scratch, so I should be fine. The edges kept getting shorter. I extended my arm and swung my fingertips over the opening. The air was denser like I was pushing clouds away.
Raphael groaned, and an arm shoved my back, lurching my body inside the gate. In that fleeting moment, when my feet left the ground, I felt like I was falling from an incredible height. As a scream built in the back of my throat, the feeling dispelled when my feet touched the cemented ground.
Raphael followed right after me, and the tear closed in itself, sealing behind it the storm and the crumbling pieces of the other world. "That just happened..." I muttered to myself and looked back at Laura. "What was that?"
"We stayed too long, and I unfurled. It added to the instability," Laura explained. "But this place..." She opened her arms and inhaled deeply. "It's next to paradise. Quite literally, we're only a plane below where the angels and the divines exist."
"But where exactly is 'this?'" I asked with skepticism.
The place seemed usual. Well, leaving the fact that it appeared ages-old, or maybe dilapidated would be the right word. No, that was not it. When I observed more carefully: the streets, the paths, and the buildings, they were all too familiar. It was the map of my town — Chesterfield.
The stones of pavements bordering the roads had come off. Loose dirt had grass and dandelions growing in it. The neighborhood where I stood hadn't changed a lot, but it had aged pretty well. The woods should have been at least a hundred feet away from the buildings. Tall trees now occupied the partially crumbled houses. It almost seemed as if the forest had engulfed the city itself.
"This is material, Luke, just like earth. But a plane above." Laura's voice was faint; she probably noticed my unease. "It even looks like earth, doesn't it?"
It did, but, at the same time, it was nothing like earth. The sight in front of me was nothing but awful — a dying city riddled with moss and broken with the spell of time.
"It looks like an apocalypse struck this place," I said honestly. We stood in the central area of the town, well, whatever was left of it.
Laura scoffed and said, "It's kinda peaceful, though, isn't it?" Her words made me notice the people walking around.
The population was scarce, and the general hub-bub lacked, but there were still people here. And they looked normal. Nothing surprising happened as they crossed streets and entered buildings and chatted on the pavements.
