Better Than Where I Was

Chapter 1: A Bet

It was 3 A.M. and I was once again staring at the ceiling.

I hated the night time. I had a mini panic attack every time the sun went down just because I knew that meant it was almost time to go lie in bed for hours, bored out of my mind and wishing I could sleep. It was a unique kind of torture to be so exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally, and yet be unable to sleep. Most nights I just gave up and scrolled through mindless social media feeds, but on nights like tonight where I was trying to do the responsible thing, I refused to pick up my phone in favor of attempting to fall asleep.

This led to several boring hours of both staring at the ceiling and glancing at the clock to see that it had only been five minutes, even though I could have sworn it had been at least an hour.

Again... a unique kind of torture.

I inhaled deeply, held my breath for a few moments, then let it back out, refusing to think about the feeling of needing air and being unable to get it.

Sometimes I'd see how long I could hold my breath, but just like the inability to sleep, that was another form of torture, although this one I was purposefully inflicting on myself. With every moment of wishing to take a breath, I thought about Michael, panicked and trapped underwater. I thought of his sister sitting on the shore, doing nothing to save him. I thought of the fact that I had to hear about my boyfriend's death through a text message from a nosey friend who had overheard what had happened.

I didn't want to hate Alex for letting her brother die. I knew she couldn't swim. I knew that it had to absolutely kill her inside that she couldn't save him and had to stand by helplessly, watching him drift away.

But I still hated her.

I wasn't a good enough person to separate logic from emotion.

I hated her and I couldn't see myself ever not hating her.

She was the one who had insisted on having Michael teach her to swim, even though he'd already made plans with me. She'd taken advantage of the fact that he was literally the best brother ever. She knew he'd do anything for her. And so he'd gone with her, even though the weather had been unpredictable that day. Alex had insisted, and Alex had gotten her way.

I hated her.

I could feel my face getting hot as the slew of emotions passed over me. Anger at Alex. Rage over how stupid and preventable Michael's death had been. Regret that I hadn't tried to stop him from leaving with his sister. And sadness that he wasn't here.

The heat that had started in my cheeks began to radiate down my legs and pool at my feet. The change was so sudden and intense that I actually wondered for a moment if I had knocked over the cup of coffee on my nightstand. The one I knew I shouldn't have consumed when I already had trouble sleeping.

But before I could wonder for too long, a neon blue light illuminated my room.

I'd been pretty liberal with the antidepressants after Michael's death seven months earlier, but this was the first time I'd had a full-on hallucination. Mostly they just made me feel sleepy and content. But this was new.

I sat up in bed and looked at the triangular blue cut-out in the air in front of me. It was like looking at my room on a backdrop that had had a triangle cut out of it, revealing something beyond that I hadn't even known was there.

I furrowed my brow in confusion. I probably should have been terrified, but I wasn't. I couldn't be sure if it was the lack of sleep, the cocktail of Xanax and about three different antidepressants I'd taken only an hour before, or what my therapist had called my insistence on living my life in a state of being passively suicidal.

No matter what the reason though, I couldn't muster the emotional energy needed to be scared. I raised an eyebrow at the triangle that could only be described as a portal, regarding it with mild interest before running my fingers through my bright red bob.

This was new.

I contemplated reaching out to touch the strange void, but decided against it when a boy with blonde hair and a black eyepatch popped his head into my room.

"Hey Red," he said, his voice a bit more nasally than I would have expected just by looking at him. "You're coming with me. I need to settle a bet."

I opened my mouth to ask for some clarification, but before I could actually speak, the boy lifted his gloved hands and grabbed both of my ankles, dragging me into the triangular portal that had materialized at the foot of my bed.

I should have screamed. I should have tried to alert my parents. I should have at least been more concerned than I was. But I just let him drag me through the warm cut-out which, in turn, gave way to an even warmer room made from pink stone where yet another boy resided. This one looked totally different than the blonde with the eyepatch. This boy had skin that seemed to be a lavender color, with a pink fauxhawk and... three eyes?

I frowned and counted again.

Two eyes in their normal place, and then one extra one smack dab in the middle of his forehead.

The blonde had finally let go of my ankles as the portal closed behind me.

Thank goodness it was fall and I'd slept in my sweats and old Atari T-shirt instead of what I normally wore in the summer. That would have made this situation much more awkward.

Taking a moment to sit up and adjust my clothes from the hasty and ungraceful departure I'd made from my bedroom, I looked between the two boys.

They stared back at me. The blonde wore a self-satisfied smirk. The purple-ish demon just watched me, his mouth forming a hard line. I wasn't sure if they were waiting for me to do something, so I just said the first thing that popped into my mind.

"Well, between the two of you, you've got a normal amount of eyes."