Chapter 12

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I didn't know what was going on, or where I was. No matter where I turned, I could only see white everywhere; even the sky and ground - if I was outside. I started walking, but it looked like I was walking in place. Maybe jogging might help? I did that, but there was nothing. Nothing I could see for miles on end. It was like I was standing in front of a mirror, no matter which way I turned or what gestures I used or what words fell out of my mouth, my reflection would copy my exact same moves. In this scenario, the white was my reflection.

It wasn't until after I spun around to find a door standing up by itself. Being inquisitive, I approached it. The door grew larger as I approached it, which helped break the illusion of the white. Wanting to get to the door faster, I jogged over to it in less than five seconds. The features of the door were polished dark spruce wood, no glass frames, no decorations. The handle of the knob was a reflective gold; I could see myself in it. I put my hand on it, slowly twisting the knob and the spruce door opened.

I walked in cautiously, peering my head inside first. My curiosity level spiked up to a maximum when I saw that the room inside was... a house. An actual house. Man, things are getting weirder by the minute, I thought to myself.

I never bothered to shut the door behind me as I was too distracted by how normal things looked in this house. As I slowly continued down the hall, I took in the details. There was a flight of stairs to my right leading upstairs, a decor table with a vase and fresh flowers in them, then down the hall were framed pictures. I looked at those individually, seeing pictures of a little girl smiling. In some of them, she was outside either sitting in the grass with a ball and a dog, or in the kitchen, making a mess. But the biggest one I noticed was a family portrait. The mom, dad, and daughter.

The father in the picture was young, possibly in his late thirties, smiling brightly. He was handsome, his hair combed nicely; his blue eyes reflecting. He was a strong man, holding onto his wife with his right arm and his daughter in his left. The mother was beautiful. Her hair was caramel-colored that flowed nicely into loose curls. Her eyes were hazel, and her smile was just as bright. The daughter looked just like them, the mother mostly, though. Her rounded face soft and innocent, her rosy cheeks translucent to her skin. She had the same eyes, both a combination of her parents'. They looked like the literal definition of one big, happy family.

I walked farther down until I saw there was a kitchen, and blocked by the wall leading into that was the living room. The kitchen was just like the one in the photos, but clean instead of messy. The marble counters reflected in the light, the cabinets the same color as the spruce door. Somehow, I knew all of this. It was like it was so familiar I knew it like the back of my hand. I just hadn't realized this was my own house I was walking into.

"Rosalee," someone called my name.

Who said that? I thought. The voice sounded like it came from the living room, so I went there. The living room was big, a sliding glass door past the couch, a TV on the right, and so many other decorations. But what stood out to me the most were the two people sitting on the leather couch across from the television. At first, I almost backed away. But when I took the time to study them, I realized they were the people in the photo. It was like they came to life magically. All of a sudden, something clicked in my brain. Tears welled in my eyes, recognizing them at once.

TITANIUM || The Death Cure • Newt [3]Where stories live. Discover now