I wasn't exactly worried at first.
It was probably just some sort of trouble for something I'd done, like eat in the living room or something. Maybe I'd been somewhere or done something that I wasn't supposed to. I figured everything was going to be fine once I was confronted and apologized.
But then Shane said something quietly about my mom, and I felt my heart plummet back into my stomach, then lower and lower. Mom was the last thing I wanted to talk about that day.
Dad had always loved talking about her, which I understood, but I wished they'd waited until the next day. He hardly talked about her actual disappearance—he never explained his encounters with the police, or what happened, really—not unless he had to. He just loved talking about HER as a person. He only loved the good things.
But clearly they weren't about to deliver good news. I had a sickening feeling that they were about to give me awful news.
Even Shane looked grave, and that wasn't even close to normal for him. He was the optimistic one. He always tried to see the bright side of life, even when mom disappeared.
I even saw tears slowly well up in my dad's eyes. "Ugh," he mumbled to himself, trying to wipe the tears away. "You both remind me of your mother in so many ways." He said.
"I mean, you're so much like her, all the way down to the flecks of gray in your eyes. You're like little copies of her. Lucky for you, otherwise you'd have to look like me." He looked sad, but he sounded happy.
But he was right, despite his random commemoration of remnants of the past. Shane and I did share a lot of resemblance with our mother.
Shane quieted dad and took over the conversation from there. "What's this about?" I asked. "Look," Shane said. "It's probably about time that dad and I tried explaining something kinda important to you." He added.
The feeling of worry hit me like a bus. I wondered what they were trying to tell me. I was confused. Maybe they'd found her. Maybe they'd found her dead—though that wouldn't have come as a huge shock to me. She'd been gone for too long without a word.
"It's probably best that we discuss this with you before you're put into any immediate danger. It'll be okay soon, though." Shane explained. Immediate danger? What was that supposed to mean?
Something was telling me that they hadn't found her body. Something was telling me that much worse was coming—and my instincts proved to be correct.
Dad pulled himself together, just for a second, before tears began rolling down his cheeks again. "Yeah," he sniffed. "Of course. He has to know this. To keep him safe." He mumbled to himself.
By that time, anxiety was eating away at me. I just wanted to know what they were talking about. "Well, if you're actually planning on saying something, say it already, will you?" I asked, feeling slightly agitated.
"Well, Cyrus," Shane said, trying to find his words. "You can't be angry when we tell you this." I groaned. "When mom went missing," he began slowly. "We all knew she'd be coming back. That's why I wasn't super worried when she left." He told me.
I'd heard that story before. Shane wasn't worried when mom left—the full story was more of a drag, though, even if I didn't remember all of it. I just had bits and pieces in my head, but maybe it was better off that way.
Mom had come into my bedroom late at night with dad. "Sweetheart," a vague voice drifted over to me in the darkness. I knew it wasn't my mom's voice—it was mine, because I couldn't remember hers. My mom had a soft voice, and I sounded like a plagued-with-puberty adolescent.
My memories of her in all aspects had crumbled into nothing. "Mom's leaving for a while." Dad's usual voice said to me. In my sleepy daze, I didn't really care. And, being only five, I knew she'd come back. I realized that it was a big world out there, and she travelled a lot.
Mom would be back in a few days, at most. There was no need for me to worry. At least, that's what I had told myself back then.
She'd done it before. She'd leave for a few hours or days at a time, and leave me with Shane. It wasn't bad. I enjoyed spending the time with him. I could manage without her for a few days.
But it turned out to be an even longer trip than I realized. She never came back. Shane and I waited an extra day or two before we realized that something terrible must've happened.
I brought myself back to the present situation. Shane and dad were just staring at me, completely expressionless. "We knew where she went at first." Shane repeated, talking to me like I was still five. "Yeah. I know that. I was there for this." I mumbled.
"She was supposed to come back." Dad added. "Of course she was supposed to come back! That's why she was missing." I replied. Both of them looked a bit startled, because they knew it was true. They didn't scold me for being disrespectful—they just knew I was right.
"So..." Shane hesitated. "Look, if you're going to say something about it, please, just say it." I demanded. A strong sense told me that they were lying to me. My mother was long gone, and they knew she wasn't coming back, just as much as I did. There was no reason to remind us of that.
"So, we knew where she was going," Dad repeated. "Okay." I waited, having heard the same thing 3 consecutive times. Anger and resentment were building up in my chest. They knew something, clearly, and they were avoiding it.
I glared at them, waiting for an answer. "We're really sorry that we hid all it from you. It was really wrong. We panicked when she didn't come back as planned. But that's not really important now. All we know right now is that she needs you." Shane clarified.
"Oh, yeah, guys. She sure does." I said sarcastically. "As if that's true. I don't know where she is now. YOU don't know where she is now. I don't even know where she was before she disappeared. So there's no way I can help her. She's dead. And that's what's interesting about being dead. You don't need anything anymore."
Shane and dad exchanged looks again. Shane looked flustered, dad looked frustrated. "We couldn't just come out and say any of this—not until she told us we could." Dad grumbled. "What are you talking about?" I snapped.
Basically, what they were saying was that they'd managed to keep in contact with her. And they'd never said or done anything to enlighten me, not even after years of waiting.
Shane looked like he was thinking hard. Finally, he opened his mouth, probably to say something of an apology. "No, just tell me." I demanded. "Mom wants to explain most of it herself. She just wanted to warn you that something will happen soon—and she doesn't want you to be surprised." Shane told me.
"How is that even possible?" I jumped up from the table. "Mom is dead." I said. "Whoa, sit back down." Shane said calmly. "I cannot believe what you two are telling me. What are you trying to do—screw me up even more?" I demanded. "No!" they shouted in unison.
I decided immediately that I was done having a pointless conversation with them. I stormed out of the kitchen and stomped up the stairs to my bedroom. I wasn't in any kind of mood to have them babble on about my dead mother.
I flopped onto my bed and dug into the covers. I felt hot tears prick at the back of my eyes and threatened to overthrow at any given moment.
I couldn't understand why they'd just brought her up all the sudden along with some crazy delusion that she was still alive. They acted like they finally found a shred of evidence after I'd thought she was dead for 8 years.
They called my name from downstairs—they wanted me to at least go down there and eat, but I didn't have much of an appetite. I just wanted to forget what they'd told me. I wanted to disappear, just like she had, right off the face of the earth.
To this very day, I'm still not sure what made me feel like I wanted to disappear. But I'd never known a time where I'd wanted to disappear as much as I did right then.
***
By some given miracle, I managed to sleep that night.
But I did have a very odd dream, that, at first, stationed me in my backyard. And just to lay a few things out—in my backyard, past the mini-forest, there was a tiny lake. It was just part of a small clearing, lined by the trees. It was like my unfiltered swimming pool.
I'd spent tons of time there in my lonely summers while I was a kid. Before the treehouse I had had fallen INTO the lake, I'd camped out there for days on end. It had been like a nice memory of my childhood.
However, dreams were never on my side. Ever since I was a kid, I tended to get these wildly significant dreams that seemed to have some immense effect on how my life went during the day.
Usually, if I had a predicament dream like that, it meant that something was going to happen to me. Soon. Whether good or bad, it didn't matter. I never usually knew exactly WHAT was going to happen, either, so it didn't matter.
Sometimes it would be a simple warning that I'd need to do something important—soon. Sometimes they would warn me about something terrible that had the potential to hurt me. I was usually able to avoid dangerous situations if I remembered that they were going to happen.
So, I was standing there by the lake. I felt unusually unnerved. There was this unnatural chill in the air that I could physically feel. I felt as if a million eyes were peering out at me from behind the trees, or as if someone was behind me, breathing down my neck.
There was a chill settled over me that was almost unbelievable. I started to tremble in my sleep, like I could feel the cold, crisp air.
In a sudden crack and burst of light, Ivy appeared on my left side, which made me jump. I wasn't exactly expecting visitors. People just appearing in puffs of smoke wasn't anything normal to me.
At first, I wondered how she'd done it. There had to have been some sort of science trick she'd used to pull it off, which set off a chain reaction in my mind. I needed to know HOW she'd done it.
"You've probably seen our future together by now, I guess?" she asked quietly. I felt my cheeks turn red and my heart do a backflip. "Yeah, I have." I replied. "So you've seen all the things we could accomplish and what a good team we could make." She remarked.
I nodded. In the subconscious part of me that had thoughts during dreams wondered what she was talking about and why she sounded so terrified. It was a curious thing for Ivy to be scared of anything.
But while I ran it through my head I realized that I really had no clue. The subconscious section of my brain eventually gave up on the mystery. In my dream, I seemed to know everything that had happened leading up to that specific moment.
I wasn't exactly sure how to explain how I felt. I felt all fuzzy and irresolute inside, like there was some hidden rut that I needed to work out.
"Of course it is." I told Ivy confidently, getting back into the dream. "Are you sure?" she asked skeptically. How can she not understand? I thought. She has to understand that I love her and that I need her. She has to understand that I'd do anything to be what she wants in life.
I shifted uncomfortably in my sleep. I couldn't believe that I'd even think that—not even in a dream.
"I'm not exactly in a position to be deserted again." Ivy said plainly, the words hardly catching in her throat as she said them. "I know that. I really do." I began. "But this is much different. I promised I wouldn't go."
I remember feeling somewhat desperate—like she absolutely had to know that I'd promised. And she had to know how different I was. But I didn't know why.
"I do." She replied. I smiled over at her, trying to be sincere. A rush of joy seemed to pulse through me, along with a touch of disappointment. "We should get back home, shouldn't we?" I asked, awkwardly reaching over and taking Ivy's hand.
"Yeah, I guess." She agreed. "Your mom will probably want to talk to you when you get back." Ivy commented before we went to do whatever it is we were supposed to be doing.
Oh, I thought sarcastically, outside of my dream. More about my mom. More crap about how I needed to see her and talk to her about something supposedly important that she needed me for. What would that even be, and why was it following me into my dreams?
"Why would she need to talk to me?" I asked alarmingly. "Is something wrong? Is it really bad?" Ivy tried to quiet me almost immediately. "Can't you sense it?" she asked casually. "There's something coming." She explained.
In my dream, I could almost legitimately feel a rush of happiness and confidence. Everything seemed to be falling into place. But, outside of the dream, I was utterly confused.
Suddenly, the image of the dream I was in warped, and I was transported to another scene. It had nothing to do with what I'd been dreaming of just seconds before. It didn't even have the slightest significance.
There were two men. The first one looked relatively normal, an average guy. But, for some reason unknown to me, I could feel their eminent presence outside of my dream. It seemed like they were extremely close to me somewhere. They could've been in my bedroom for all I knew.
The man I was seeing had sleek, brown hair. He had unusually colored eyes, and they seemed to change color rapidly. Despite his rather Victorian clothing style, he looked young, and he had the face of a bright young individual.
His eyes were very deep-set, and his face was heavy—but not in a literal sense. But it was like he'd seen a lot of tragedy and emotional/physical pain in his lifetime. He had obvious scars on each arm that looked as if they'd once been extremely deep and serious.
The first man was speaking with a second man, who was visibly older than him. I felt like I recognized each of them, for some reason, even though I almost couldn't distinguish their features through the darkness.
Even deeper in the shadows was someone I hadn't immediately noticed. Next to the younger man, there was a woman with flaming red hair. Her face and figure was obscure, so her hair was all I could see.
"I'm terribly sorry for you, Lance, but I cannot make an exception in this case. It doesn't matter to me who you are." The older man stuttered. "I'm afraid The Council simply can't allow a child of your origin to run rampant through the world."
It was clear that the old man was afraid of the younger man. "Well, it's a little bit late for that now, isn't it?" the first man asked sarcastically. The younger man seemed to radiate frustration towards the older man. I could almost feel his emotions through my dream.
"He's alive and well, and I intend to keep him that way at all costs. I'll kill every one of your assassins or professional murderers that you sent after my family. Understand?" the first man shouted. "Give me what I want, and I'll give you peace." He added, sounding slightly more calm.
"This was never simply about your son." The older man said. "There's SO much more. I get it. There's always more." The younger man sneered.
"You've branded many children—claimed them for yourself once they got older. But we truly cannot afford to lose this one. We realize that you need to be stopped. None of us can do that, though, so all we have is negotiation. WE can't lose this boy—ever." The old man explained.
"It's too late for me to abide by your petty rules!" the young man said. "I don't think you understand how I appreciate the sorrow someone must feel after losing their children. I'd go on a rampage of my own."
The younger man glared at the old one. "Because of your newly appointed 'Guardian,' I have to make drawbacks. I have to be careful." The young man added.
The older man looked terrified. "You have no say in that matter...I'm sorry." He said shakily. "Yes, I do! He's MINE. MY son. I should be able to have the same rights as any other parent regarding my child's life." The young one argued.
"We cannot allow one to live. We cannot allow the other to die. Is that made clear?" the older man ignored the younger man's rant. "One is mine. The other is not. And I will do what I need to do." The young man hissed.
"One isn't necessary for you!" the older man snapped, before realizing that he'd been rude. "And, regarding your son...wouldn't it be easier to be a cosmic criminal without the burden of a family?" the old man asked calmly.
The young man looked like he was about to punch the older man. "One day, you will watch your boy die. I will make sure of that. And mark my words, if you get in my way, you'll die right along with him."
With that, the young man and woman with red hair disappeared in a puff of smoke. The old man sighed. "So stubborn, Lance is...I never get any time off work because of him." He mumbled.
The picture of the scene began to fall away at that point. It switched just one last time.
And that time, I saw a boy. I'd never seen him before. He didn't seem familiar. He was sitting on a couch in what was clearly a run-down apartment. It seemed like he lived in a rather dangerous city area.
He sat alone, and he looked sad. He reminded me significantly of the younger man from the last section of my dream. His hair was a sleek brown, but it was much thicker and styled differently. He had simpler eyes—they didn't change color—they were just a deep brown. He looked strikingly depressed for being so young.
The kid was sorta neglected—it was like he really needed attention and a decent meal. It was clear to me that he DID have people to take care of him, but I didn't know whether or not he was parentless.
From my point of view, I was looking down on him, and he was staring up at me, like he knew I was watching.
And suddenly he spoke to me. It was simple and to-the-point. Run—run like your life depends on it, and never stop.
I got just a few more seconds to stare down at the depressed kid before I was unexpectedly woken up. I jerked awake in a cold sweat, my chest heaving with a churn of unusual emotions. It took a few minutes to get my breathing under control.
I was more confused than scared. I wasn't sure why I'd woken up so violently or why I was terrified. Truthfully, the dream wasn't scary. Not at all. It had just startled me. I wondered what it meant, though.
I snatched my cell phone off my nightstand, intent on explaining what I'd seen to Ivy—before I forgot it. Something told me it wasn't likely that I would forget. I just wanted to make sure that someone else would hear it. I thought she might've been able to help.
As soon as I pulled up our text messages to warn her that I was calling her, I decided that I needed to wait. I decided that she wouldn't want me to text her so early, and she wouldn't want to hear me babble on about my dreams until it was a decent hour. Even I'd seem insane to Ivy if I called at 3:30am.
I slipped my phone into my pocket, and I thought over hat I'd seen and what it could possibly mean for me.
Was I going to befriend a depressed 10 year old from the city in the next few weeks? Or maybe I was going to uncover some great mystery about the two men and the woman in the street. Or maybe I'd have some weird encounter with Ivy and we'd wind up doing great things together.
Highly unrealistic.
There was no place in my life where I could go befriend a depressed 10 year old that would tell me to run like my life depended on it. That led me to believe that he belonged in an insane asylum, as rude as that sounds.
I had no idea who the men in the streets were, even though that was what had seemed to be the most important bit of information in the dream.
And I surely wasn't telling Ivy that I'd do anything to be everything she ever wanted. I almost laughed at the thought.
Knowing I probably wouldn't be able to sleep again that night, I cracked open my bedroom door and slipped away quietly. Being downstairs, out of my bedroom—that didn't calm my nerves at all.
Shane was crashed on the couch with the TV still on, blasting noise. Clearly I wasn't going to find peace there watching a crime show. So I wiped away the remaining sweat on my forehead with the back of my sleeve and tried to determine what I needed to do to calm down.
My first instinct had been to talk to Ivy, but that didn't seem to be an option. I then decided that I'd slide open the glass door that led out to the back porch, and then I figured I'd go sit by the lake for a while.
After all, it was spring, and the weather was relatively mild, even in the morning.
Little did I know—at the time—going to lake was an awful idea. I could've just pried the remote out of Shane's hand, risk waking him up, and then maybe watch something that filled me with serenity. But I didn't.
I made the small journey through the wall of the trees that hid the lake. It didn't take me long to find the way, even though it was difficult to see.
The water from the lake looked undisturbed—in fact, it looked just like glass. No frogs or bugs were moving around on the water.
The moon was indirectly shining down into the small clearing, illuminating a few feet under the water. All I could see was the reflection of the moon and my reflection in the water.
The shadows of the trees wrapped darkness and privacy around me like a blanket. I was completely covered, not that I was worried about being seen. I'd always enjoyed the darkness—more than any normal individual.
Most people didn't take comfort in the fact that anyone and anything could lurk in the darkness. Things could jump out and scare you easy.
For me, it was just the opposite. I was invisible. No one could see me. I blocked out the fear of the unknown, and I became the unknown. Anyone could do it, but that was part of the darkness that everyone forgot about.
I found a patch of dryness to sit by near the lake. I was careful not to disturb the water. It was beautiful, and I liked looking at it. Everything was completely calm and undisturbed—which help me almost forget about my dream. I felt like I could clear my head and think completely clearly.
But, eventually, my thoughts ran rampant. My dream kept coming to mind, and I couldn't begin to fathom that. I hit a roadblock.
I eventually decided that I needed to call Ivy. I slipped my phone out of my pocket and immediately went to call her with no warning. I was extremely startled when she actually answered me. It was still very early. But she'd still answered right when I needed her most.
"Hey," she greeted me blandly. I could clearly hear her breath coming in a ragged struggle. She sounded tired, too. "Something is wrong." I guessed instantly. "What gave that away?" she asked sarcastically.
"Ivy, it sounds like you're drunk." I said honestly. "Oh." She mumbled. "I've just been awake for a while." She added. "Why?" I asked curiously. "I've been up with my mom." I heard her try to stifle a yawn.
"What's the problem?" I asked. "Mom's just under a lot of pressure. It's really not a big deal." She replied. "Funnily enough, that is not the greatest cover-up story you've given me. Tell me what's wrong." I demanded.
"Like I said, it's just my dad. He may have gone a long time ago, but she's still on it all the time." Ivy explained.
Ivy's mom had a reputation for being slightly difficult. She was nice and polite, but she was difficult. She didn't get over things as quickly as everyone else did. I mean, there was no normal, but it had taken a long time, and she'd suffered a terrible loss.
Her emotions never seemed to fade. It was like the pain of her husband leaving her was still a fresh wound, and that was sad.
"Is her problem just that he's gone, or that she really still loves him?" I asked awkwardly. "Both? I don't know. I can't be sure anymore. She doesn't TALK about it. But I'm so worried. She's scaring me. I don't know if I should go to school tomorrow. It's that bad." Ivy said quietly.
By then, I'd almost forgotten about my dream. "When she finally went to sleep, I tried to sleep, too. But the very second I fell asleep, I had this weird nightmare." She added. "You did, too?" I asked loudly.
"SHH!" she said. "She's still sleeping, and I'd really like it to stay that way." Ivy mumbled tiredly. "I'm sorry." I mumbled. "You had a nightmare?" I asked, significantly quieter.
"Yeah, a really weird one. And now I can't go back to sleep. Why are you awake?" she asked. "I had a nightmare, too." I replied. "What happened?" she asked immediately. I explained the major details of the dream in all three scenes.
"Cyrus," she said after a minute. "I Saw the same places—the same things." She said. I felt myself blush a bit. I didn't know why. "I mean, you hit the main points." She remarked. "Pretty much the same story, though?" I asked, feeling confused." All of it."
"Do we need to talk about this?" I asked. "We are talking about this." She reminded me. "No, not like that. I mean..." I sighed. "I'm at the lake. Do you think you wanna come down, too, or would you rather stay with your mom? Either way is fine." I mentioned.
"I mean, I know your mom is feeling all whacky and stuff. And it's 3am. And it's sudden. It really is alright if you want to put this off." I assured her. She hesitated. "No. I'm coming. Just give me a second."
The whole prospect of us having a dream that the two of us shared seemed like a whole separate dream. People didn't SHARE dreams in a literal sense. What was so special about us so that they would literally conjoin? How was it even possible?
My brain was whirring with the possibilities. I just kept trying to figure it out. But there was literally no way for me to figure out how that worked. Linked minds didn't happen like that. That just wasn't how life worked. I just couldn't comprehend it.
I was wondering if the dream prophecy-thing would come true in the 5 minute time span, giving Ivy just enough time walk from her house to mine. I doubted it. "Don't you dare get off the phone. I'm not coming down here by myself." Ivy commanded.
"Sure, sure. I don't really want to be by myself either." I agreed. At that exact moment, I felt a ball of emotions well up in my chest. It was like the anticipation that something was going to happen to me—but, at the same time, it was far away.
I didn't know how to explain it. It was just unnerving. Something was going to happen clearly, and I could feel it.
"So...hey, are you alright?" I asked, remembering what she'd told me that afternoon. "Yeah. I mean, the dream wasn't THAT bad." Ivy replied. "Oh, actually, I meant about your parents." I said awkwardly.
I could sense that she didn't want to talk about it. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I'm fine. And my mom will be okay eventually." She replied. "And you were right. If I hate my dad so much, there's no reason to worry about him so much." She added.
I sighed heavily. "I shouldn't have said that. I understand why you still care. He's your dad." I said. "Actually, sometimes I feel like I hate my mom for disappearing, even though we don't really know what happened." I related.
It seemed like I was launching us into the first real conversation where she talked about her parents freely. "Sometimes I just wish he'd come back and give me a real explanation. That's not too much to ask, is it?" she asked, her voice shaking a bit.
"I know how you feel. I want to help you get through it, but I'm not quite sure how to get through it myself." I sympathized. "I'm on my way." She said. I heard a door shut, and footsteps on the sidewalk.
"I'm really glad you called. I was thinking about doing it myself, but I didn't expect you to answer." She said. "Yeah, well, I wasn't going to call you first, either, but here we are." I thought aloud.
"What do you think about all this?" I asked suddenly. She hesitated. "I'm not sure. Everything's really weird." She replied. "This isn't normal. Joining dreams can't be real." I said.
"Hold on. I'm walking through your backyard. I'll be there in a few seconds." She said, hanging up. After a few seconds, I saw her shadow through the trees, coming towards me.
"Hey." I greeted, standing up and holding my arms out. I never did that—I didn't know what I was doing. "Hi." She embraced me tightly without hesitation, which was even weirder.
But after a minute she pushed me off. "So, tell me what I might've missed in your half of the dream. Maybe they weren't actually the same, just similar." I nodded and gestured for her to sit next to me by the lake.
"We were just standing there, really. There wasn't much else that I saw." She stood up again. "We were standing right here." She walked a few steps to the right. "Yeah, that's about it." I agreed.
"Did you physically feel anything while you were dreaming? Subconsciously?" I asked. "Yeah, sorta." She said. "I felt this pain in my chest, like anxiety. And then you asked me if I'd seen into the future or whatever," I said.
"And there were these thoughts that I was thinking going through my head." Ivy said. "Same for me, too." I replied. "Maybe we really did share a dream." I added. "How is that even possible?"
"I don't know. I don't even know what that's supposed to mean. Is this supposed to happen?" she asked. "Not that I know of, no." I replied. "You really saw the same thing in your half?"
She sighed. "I saw mostly the same things as you. I was standing right here. You were standing right next to me. We said what we said." She shrugged. "Tell me more about your half. Everything," Ivy suggested.
I hesitated, remembering what I'd been thinking in the dream. "Look, I understand that this is weird. It's weird for us both. I deserve to know just as much as you do." She mumbled.
"It was all in my head. I don't even remember what I was thinking." I lied. "All I remember is that I was thinking something." She seemed to buy my story. I did feel bad about lying to her, but I was protecting our already-annoying friendship dilemmas.
I already knew that I cared too much about Ivy. I didn't want to have to tell her that, even though it had just been part of a dream. I hadn't really been thinking that. I just didn't want to think too hard on it.
Yeah, I liked Ivy a lot. It wasn't cute. It wasn't convenient. It was a major crush. It was weird. She was someone that I wasn't supposed to have feelings for. It was just an accident. I don't think anyone would fall in love if they had the choice.
I didn't remember when it dawned on me. But, while she was with me at the lake, it quickly became as clear as day. I had never consciously admitted it to myself before we'd been there at the lake.
Having a crush on Ivy wasn't a cakewalk. She was tough. She didn't let anyone into their life unless they pried. She was a cutoff to her own emotions and hostile if you asked her about how she felt. She softened towards me because I didn't back off, and because I'd pried.
But I didn't know how I was supposed to make that go away. You can't just flip a switch and pretend that you don't love someone. It doesn't work like that. I didn't see which option worked better for me, though: wallow in sorrow at her ignorance or tell her about it.
I heard her take a deep breath. The color had almost drained form her face. She seemed scared about something, which was incredibly rare for her. She didn't get scared.
She looked at me, and gave me those puppy-dog eyes that she used on me when she was about to tell me something I wouldn't like.
Something was worrying me. Ivy was acting weird, and I couldn't shake the conspiracy theorist feeling that told me something wasn't right with the conjoined dream that I'd "happened" to experience.
The conspiracy theorist in me began to connect the dots. It couldn't have been a coincidence that Shane and dad explained what had happened with my mom, and then, all the sudden, I have this dream. I thought.
Our dream involved things that I couldn't have possibly known about. They didn't tell me everything at dinner. I thought. I looked over at Ivy. And she must be in on it, too. I felt my heart sink down further and further.
She sighed loudly. "Yeah, this definitely isn't right." She replied. I almost glared at her. Clearly something wasn't right, but I didn't have the heart to ask her what she really thought.
We were silent for a second. She came back and sat next to me. I was still trying to fathom my disappointment. I mean, I wasn't sure my theorist premonition was correct. I just needed some explanation.
After a minute, without any warning, Ivy and I were practically blown backwards by a strong gust of wind. It was like a miniature tornado had just come through and passed over the lake.
The two of us were suddenly splashed with water from the lake. The wind had completely stirred up the whole scene. It was so strong that it splattered a bit of lake mud all over us.
The lake was roaring with life, splattering years' worth of settled mud and muck into our faces. The water began to swish back and forth, sequencing itself so that it eventually began to roll around and around. It was like a self-assembling whirlpool.
I looked over at Ivy. She didn't look scared anymore—she looked confused. Before I could say anything, though, a slimy human hand literally burst out of the current of the whirlpool.
Ivy scrambled away, still looking confused. There was no trace of fear in her. I, on the other hand, was about to pee my pants.
The slimy hand made a sudden movement—it reached out and grabbed her ankle. She didn't scream or any noise. She didn't even react. She just tried to step on it and shake it off.
Its strength was a match for hers. She was quickly being overtaken and dragged into the current. It took just a few seconds for the hand to gain control and pull her into the roaring water. I hardly had any time to help her or register what was going on.
No one could've quickly understood that a hand had come out of the lake in my backyard, or that it dragged my best friend under the current to drown.
But I hardly had time to think about it before it had come back for me. Of course, naturally, I wasn't sure what to do. If I ran, Ivy could've been in danger. But if I stayed and got dragged down, I made a probable conclusion that I would drown.
The hand latched itself onto my ankle. I tried to shake it off. My best bet was to go get help, because there was nothing I could do. But the hand clearly varied in strength, and I was yanked into the current just as quickly as Ivy had been.
I hadn't gotten the chance to take a breath before I'd been dragged under. I was choking and spluttering on the lake water. It surged up my nose and down my throat as I was dragged deeper and deeper into the murky depths of the lake.
My lungs burned. I needed to breathe. I was drowning. But I had no idea what was going on, either. The confusion and the drowning combined was a difficult situation for me.
Lucky for me, I didn't drown. I was permitted to breathe again right as I was sure that my chest was going to explode. I was dropped back onto dry land, water spilling over me.
I coughed and spluttered, trying desperately to get all the water out of my lungs and nose. Ivy was doing the same thing just a few yards away. She still didn't look scared, just a little rattled.
"What happened there?" she asked, looking over at me. I groaned as a reply. "What?" she whispered.
I sat up and recuperated on my own time. It had been painful to almost drown. And I'd been dropped onto dry land, from far in the air. I was surprised I didn't break bones.
And then I realized that I had no idea where we were or what was going on. It appeared that we were in a simple place, but I couldn't be entirely sure. "Where are we?" I asked. "I don't know." Ivy replied stiffly. "But I'm pretty sure we aren't at the lake anymore."
Ivy seemed really worried, which made me worried. I'd only seen her scared on rare occasions, but that was a time when fear could be permitted, even for her.
But she didn't just look scared, or worried. She looked helpless and small. She didn't seem confident. She was faltering, and that was the worst thing of all.
Clearly we'd been taken somewhere else. I had no idea how—or why. It wasn't logical and completely rebelled against the basic principles of science. It was simply impossible—unless the government geniuses had hacked life and stuck a teleportation device in my backyard.
Again, highly unlikely.
I didn't have any idea what was going on. The lake was gone and we were nowhere. It was daytime, and it was summer. It felt different. The air itself seemed cleaner, but harder to breathe at the same time.
Ivy and I were just beyond a clearing that was lined by two rows of trees—the forests around us were thick. We were stuck on some sort of divider for each forest, as far as I could tell.
On the left hand side of the forest, the tress all looked dead. It was like winter was going on over there.
And then summer was thriving over on the other side. The trees were green. The right-handed forest was teeming with life. Ivy and I were standing in the middle of a direct cut in between the dead and the living forests.
At the end of the divider/clearing, there was a larger clearing, much larger than the divider was. A palace was built right in the center of it, surrounded half by the dead forest and half by the living one.
The palace was unexplainably magnificent. From what I could see, it was intricately built. It was an intricate place in itself, sculpted from marbles and stones that complimented each other. It was foreign but striking architecture.
Ivy took in a sharp breath. "Oh no, no, no." she mumbled. "What is it?" I asked. "Nothing," she said quickly. "I just realized something." She added. "Ivy, do you know something about this?" I asked curiously.
She didn't answer me directly. "Ivy," I said. "My dad just told me that my mom was going to need me soon." I mentioned. That had to be the explanation to our situation. I hadn't believed him or Shane, but I had to learn to keep an open mind.
"And then we had that joint dream. Now we're here." I explained. "I don't know what's going on." I said loudly. She ignored my distress and stared at me like I'd sprouted a second head. I was feeling uninformed. Everyone had some sort of ornate plan, and I was stuck in the middle of it. She seemed to know what she needed to understand.
"WHAT?" she asked. Ivy leaped to her feet quickly, not waiting for the answer to her question. She stomped off towards the distant palace. "Wait, Ivy!" I shouted. "What are you doing?" I yelled after her.
"We have no idea what we're getting ourselves into!" Even though I was practically begging her to stop, she was clearly not listening to me. I tried to keep up with her and follow.
Ivy had some sort of mission she wanted to accomplish. I could tell she was giving me a nice gesture—she wanted me to stop out of the way and let her do her "tough girl" thing. I wasn't supposed to interfere, but I always did.
I raced after her in a desperate attempt to get her to help me find out where we were and how we were supposed to get back home. But she wouldn't budge. That wasn't like Ivy—she wanted to find out what was going on, but she had no intention of getting us home.
Clearly Ivy had her own goals. I was focused on the "get back home" and she was focused on something completely different. "Ivy, you do realize that this could be suicide, right? We have no idea who or what is in the castle or how they will react when they see us.
"What if they think we're some kind of hostile force and they try to shoot at us or something? That wouldn't end very well." I said pessimistically. I continued to try and convince her to turn back with different prospects, but she was too headstrong to listen. She wasn't paying me the slightest bit of attention.
Finally, she whipped around on her heel. "Cyrus, I just saw a slimy, nasty hand shoot out of your lake. It pulled me under the surface and almost drowned me. And then I got dropped in here. I am soaking wet. I have no idea where I am. I have no idea why everything is suddenly changing." She paused.
"There is a castle here. Castle means people. People mean answers." She snapped. I decided it would be in my best interests to keep quiet after her minuscule outburst.
Knowing Ivy, she would get her answers somehow, even in a strange place. I was trying to make myself follow her. She was scaring me with all this determination for answers. I wasn't sure I wanted them. I just wanted to go home.
But I felt like I belonged there in that strange place. I felt like I was supposed to be there. It felt like home—more so than earth did. It was weird and completely irregular, so I pushed it to the back of my mind and tried not to think about it.
We continued getting nearer and nearer to the massive double doors that marked the entrance to the palace. I noticed, off to the right, that there was a second clearing that dipped into the green side of the trees.
It might've been a village at some point. But, from what I saw, it looked like it had been burnt to a crisp. There had obviously been some sort of upheaval. It all lay in a charred ruin.
There were holes dug, wooden debris, and smoking thatch. There was charred and burnt human bodies lying there, mangled into shapes that I never would've thought possible. The whole area smelt of fire and burning skin.
I looked away from the remains of the village and its inhabitance. I didn't need to be sick to my stomach, especially not then.
Before Ivy banged on the doors of the castle, the double doors just opened, as if by magic. We jumped back to avoid being hit.
Fear was churning in my stomach. But I didn't have to worry. A woman with long, curly black hair, heavy eyes, and a straightforward face walked out of the door. I recognized her instantly—Mom.
I blinked. That was impossible. She'd been dead and gone for 8 years. 8 whole years. She didn't look like the mother I remembered. If at all possible, she looked younger. She was so much different than what I remembered.
Her face was worked, and she looked warped. I understood that I hadn't seen her in 8 years, but it didn't seem right.
She looked completely startled, like she wasn't expecting me to be standing there, which was reasonably. "Cyrus!" she gasped and smiled at me. I felt my jaw drop to the ground.
"What? You're supposed to be dead." I stammered, looking over at Ivy. "Oh, honey," Mom said jokingly. "Did you honestly think I'd let myself run off and get captured in that silly world you live in?" she scoffed.
My mind was racing a thousand miles per second. How could she have been just standing there? How could I have been standing in front of her? How was any of it possible?
"I realize how confused you must be feeling right now." She said sweetly. "Uh, yeah." I said almost immediately. "I don't know how I'm here and my dead mother just came back to life." I said. I felt more hysterical than relieved. Something definitely wasn't right.
"What's going on our here?" I heard a stern voice yell from behind the double doors. Five other men came out—and they looked pretty lethal. They all had pitch black hair and brown eyes, just like my "Mom" did. But those 5 guys weren't familiar to me.
"Nothing, boys. I'm fine. Everything is! Your brother is here!" Mom turned back to address them. "Brother?" I asked quickly. I didn't see what that was supposed to mean.
But I didn't get much time to think about it, though. "I'm glad your father finally explained all of this to you. Finally." She mumbled. "I suppose you recognize all your brothers, don't you?" Mom asked sweetly.
My heart seemed to skip a beat. I was confused, but I still needed to use my brain. I was clearly not where I thought I was. I had been right. Wherever I was, obviously it was where I was supposed to be.
"Of course I do." I lied. I wasn't sure why I bothered to lie, but it seemed to be in my best interests. "Hi." I greeted them with a fake smile. They smiled back at me, but it was creepy.
Ivy looked over at me. I hoped she was as confused as I was. "Yeah, yeah, anyway...Dad did tell me that you needed me." I said. "So here I am." I tried to change the subject so I didn't ruin my act. I shifted awkwardly. "Of course!" the woman explained.
"Wait a second." I stopped her. "Where am I, though?" I asked stalely. "No, no. Don't worry about that. All of this will be revealed in good time. Come in, though. I can explain it all over the feast that I had prepared for you." She said. Ivy and I exchanged glances.
My mind flashed back to when I'd first explained to Ivy that everyone had thought my mom was dead and that no one ever figured out what had happened to her. I must've looked like an enormous idiot to her.
Ivy and I reluctantly followed my "Mom" into the palace. We rounded a few corners, weaved our way through a few hallways—until she led us into what I assumed was the dining room.
It was interesting to note that the inside of the palace was more intricately designed than the outside. There was marble everything, and ornamental glass chandeliers that hung every few feet on the ceiling with lit candles.
The large wooden table in the center of the room was draped with a pure white cloth, and the table was covered in decadent food that I could've only imagined at home.
As I'd mentioned, my Dad had been more of a pizza and fast food guy. There was real chicken, roast, steak, lamb—there was real food. Not just frozen pizza or fried chicken. There were heaping piles of vegetables and mashed potatoes. The whole table was practically screaming my name.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" the woman asked. "Sit! Eat!" she commanded graciously. I didn't need to be told twice. Ivy and I took our seats—but then we locked eyes, and the anxiety of my situation flooded back into me.
She was just as bewildered as I was. But, even then, I was enjoying myself. "Dig in!" the woman said. "We're not waiting on anyone, and I can explain a few things to the both of you while we eat."
Ivy and I heaped piles of food onto our plates. "Well," the woman began. "This is probably going to come as a bit of a shock to you."
"Go on." I said, my mouth full of ham. "There's no easy way to cushion the blow for such exciting news. So I'll just come out and say it." She paused. "Cyrus, you're a wizard." She said cheerfully.
It took me a second to register what she had said. Once I figured it out, I almost spewed my potatoes. At first, I was sure it was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard.
First, she'd introduced me to my 5 extra brothers—and then she'd told me how dad never explained anything to me. What was next? "What?" I asked obliviously.
"That's right." She said, as if it was really exciting news. "You're a wizard. And I need your help."