I wake up groggy. It takes me a few seconds to know where I am. It’s even colder than it was last night. I pull the plaid blanket closer to my shivering body.
“So what happened to your boyfriend?” Max is smoking another cigarette and cooking something over the fire.
“What?” I’m still trying to wake up.
“You said last night you had a boyfriend. What happened?”
“He fell. Down into Earth when it first opened,” I’m quiet, but not exactly sad.
“Wow, you don’t seem very distraught at all.” Max laughs and it makes my heart reverberate.
“It’s not like I don’t feel bad. It was terrible watching him die. It was terrible watching everyone die. Wesley just wasn’t my soul mate. I only dated him because I couldn’t say no. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you don’t care.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” Max skillfully flips an egg over a brand new skillet.
“Where did you get the eggs?”
“There are tons of birds’ nests in the park. Where do you think I got them?”
“You shouldn’t smoke so much.”
“It makes me look cool. Now stop talking and eat.” He flops two eggs onto a pink floral plate and hands it to me.
“Is this your finest China?” I giggle.
“Only the best for you,” Max winks. My heart won’t stop fluttering. I wish it would.
After breakfast Max goes somewhere to use the bathroom and I make my way toward the back wall. The mural is so beautiful. I just don’t understand it. Now that I’m closer I can clearly tell there are four thick lines separating each distinct scene. I start at the one on the very left. Above the picture is just a red number one. It’s strange. The most obvious piece is a detailed sketch of the Twin Towers with a plane heading toward them in blue sky. Then, there’s a drawing of a normal school, but when I examine it closer I notice it’s Columbine. The purple mountains loom over the tragic school and flowers scatter the ground trying to conceal the death. This is a portrait of death. At the bottom of this painting are fairly normal people. The only problem is their eyes are black, dripping out of their sockets. I shudder. They all stare at the scene painted before them.
“You must think I’m crazy by now,” I jump when Max puts his hand on my shoulder only to quickly pull back.
“What are these? They’re great, but kind of creepy.”
“Well what do you see in the first one?”
“I see tragedy. The Twin Towers. Columbine. Fear. Did all those people….? Are the people supposed to be ghosts?”
“Very good! Now, the next one.”
The second scene is labeled with a red number two. It shows glorious trees and rivers and flowers. Against the skyline is a stone castle. The whole thing is a pure contrast of the first picture. Rather than ghosts at the bottom are the most peculiar creatures. I focus my hazel eyes. I think some of them are faeries. They have the classic wings, but the other figures aren’t so familiar. But then I remember a book my mother gave me when I was little. It was a book to all faeries and magical creatures basically.
I began to point to some of the things, “These are treefolk. These are nymphs. And these are hobgoblins. And these are….sprites I think!” There were still others I couldn’t translate, but many of the strange creatures became very familiar. I remember being enthralled by their pictures in my book.
“You know what these things are? They’re real to you?” Max was ecstatic.
“Well they’re not real. They’re all faeries. I had a book of faeries when I was little that’s where I recognize them.”
“No way. I was really just thinking I was crazy.”
“Hold on, you don’t think they’re real do you?”
“They have to be! They came to me in a dream. All of this stuff did! The Earthquakes did! I know this has to be connected somehow. All I know is that these pictures are the different dimensions and I think –“
“Woah, just wait a second. I need to take this in,” I slowly started to gain fragments of a memory. No it was a dream, “Max, I think I had a dream about the Quakes too.”
“See we’re the chosen ones! We survived for a reason.”
“But why us?”
“I don’t know Cassidy. I really don’t. Look at the other two dimensions and maybe you’ll remember something else.”
The third so-called “dimension” was normal. In fact it was just a painting of New York City with normal people walking through the streets. I think it was 5th avenue. There was a set of stairs that lead into a brightly lit subway tunnel which was really the only strange part because those tunnels are dark.
“This is just New York City Max.” I was starting to think this all was just his imagination.
“Yeah because we live in the third dimension. The last one I think is the most important, but I don’t know too much about it yet.”
The last picture was odd. It was just a barren field. No flowers. No people. The only thing in the image was a small blue pebble. I stared as if something was going to happen.
“Max, I don’t know about this,” I was doubtful of his whole theory, but a piece of me told me it might be true.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out. We can try and go to another dimension,” he grinned proudly.
“You are insane. How would we even know where to go?”
“I think the stairs leading down to the subway on 5th avenue are important. I think that’s why it’s lit up.”
“Well fine.” Max looked like a little kid on Christmas morning as I agreed to go with him, “But if I fall into the pit, you better jump in after me.” We both smile and I notice his dimples for the first time. Serial killers can't have dimples, right?
