A Whole New World
I stared up at the soft lavender and bright pink sky. Strips of golden clouds, like torn cotton balls, floated lazily over the horizon. The pearl-like moon hung in the center of the sky, the disco ball at a one-person dance.
I was sitting in soft, warm, bright green grass with my legs dangling over the bank into the river Murund. The water swirled gently around my ankles. It was such a clear, vivid blue that it was easy to see the spectacular colors of the fish: fiery reds, sunny yellows, deep blues, and majestic purples.
I ran my finger over the soft, delicate petal of one of the many wildflowers that surrounded me. Baby blue, pale pink, soft lavender and yellow blooms danced in a careless, happy ballet.
A feeling of aloneness struck me. No one would ever see this place. I was going to be forever alone here. No one to share this beautiful place with.
I stood up and brushed invisible dust off my pants. Silly me. Of course one would feel alone when the only place they could find acceptance, love, and peace would be their mind.
When I came to, I blinked slowly, letting my eyes adjust to the bright, false lights of the school. Just in time, too. The dismissal bell clanged loudly and everyone in the class jumped and bolted for the door. I gathered my books and followed slowly. The effects of what I called ‘Dwelling’ was taxing and I had been Dwelling for an hour and a half.
I made my way to my locker as quickly and discreetly as possible. I dodged giggling girls, teachers standing guard, and some kids staring intently at a bologna sandwich. I crammed my books into my locker and headed for the doors to freedom.
“Tate! Tate!” a voice called. I turned around and kept walking only backwards. The voice was easily identified as my best friend, Damon Bane. His white blond hair flopped all over his forehead and eyes as he ran to catch up. His skin was a deep tan, his eyes a clear, vivid blue, and his smile wide and perfect. He was tall, 6’6’’, and he was lanky, but muscular. When he swam, he cut through the water like a knife.
Damon slowed to walk once he got beside me and I turned back around.
“Okay, so you have to come over today because I got this beast game and I want you to play with me,” he said in a no-nonsense voice.
“Damon, I come over every day. I live at your house more than my own.” I love Damon. He is my best friend. He is the only person who knows about my ability to dwell in my mind. He is smart, funny, and so kind and selfless, but that boy has as much common sense as a walnut.
We walked out the big double doors and so began the most important few months of Damon Bane and Tate Abel’s life.
Once we got to Damon’s, he immediately commenced his daily after-school routine. He dumped his bag on the floor, kicked his shoes off so they hit me, made a mad dash to the kitchen as I chased him while muttering about the idiocy of males, he grabbed two Jell-O’s, two pickles, and two juice bottles, and raced up the stairs to his room as I followed.
His room was like any other boys. Posters of Bob Marley and Ozzy Osbourne littered the walls. Piles of dirty clothes lay in sporadic positions. His bed was shoved to the corner of the room. The door to his closet had a ‘No Admittance’ sign on it. The TV was on top of a wood coffee table with stacks of CDs and games surrounding it.
“Down or up?” he asked while rooting through a pile of games.
“Up.” He nodded and pulled a game from the stack with a triumphant smirk. I went inside the closet and pushed aside the shirts and pants so it was just black, empty space. I stepped to the back and Damon followed closely behind while pulling the door shut.
“Got the cord?” he asked.
I fumbled around in the darkness until my hand found a string with a marble at the end. “Yeah, got it.” I yanked down and I knew what happened even though I was blind to it. A piece of the drywall was pulled up to reveal a narrow, steep staircase which Damon and I commenced to climb. When he was in, he pulled a cord by the second stair and the piece of drywall slid back down. We climbed the stairs until we got to a small white door no more than two and a half feet wide and tall.
I got on all fours and pushed the door in and crawled in. Damon followed and once in the next room, he shut the door.
The room was medium size, with no windows because it was supposed to be secret and the roof was slanted because it was pressed up against the roof. The best Damon and I could come up with is that it used to hide slaves during the time of the Underground Railroad.
We had renovated the small space to suit our needs. There was an ugly plaid futon in the corner that I typically used when I did not feel like going home. A small TV with mountains of games and game systems surrounding it decorated the far wall. A short, fat bookshelf was next to the futon that I had crammed a bunch of my favorite books onto. By the TV were two video games chairs so we could listen to our iPod or radio. An arm’s length away from the chair was a mini fridge that we had pooled our money to get. It had a ton of Jell-o cups and juice bottles.
I flopped onto the futon with a dramatic sigh. “What game is it?” I asked.
“War of the Dwarves,” he replied. I gave him a ‘you-have-to-be-kidding-me’ look. “Kidding. Call of Duty: World at War 2.”
“Cool.” I went over to the floor length mirror that had been here when we moved in.
My black hair was tied up in a knot on top of my head. My skin was (as Damon said) Harry Potter white. I was about medium height and was petite in build. My gray eyes stared back at me sullenly. My green Yoshi shirt came a little above the waist band of my jeans.
“You’re beautiful, darling,” Damon commented in a peculiar voice. “Care to come play or are you going to primp?”
I scowled, but went over and grabbed an Xbox controller. We sat for easily two hours, our faces glued to the screen. No words were exchanged between us except for Damon cursing or crowing at the screen occasionally.
“Ha, ha!” I yelled after a while. “You have been shot down!”
“No! NO!” he wailed. He tossed the controller down and flopped backward.
“Loser.”
“Shut up,” he cried.
I stood up and immediately felt dizzy. Nothing new. We had played video games forever. But when I stumbled and hit the wall, Damon noticed.
“Hey, Tate, are you okay?" I nodded, but regretted it because a wave of nausea hit me. I fell over but Damon was there and caught me. He picked me up effortlessly like I was a baby and laid me on the futon.
“Do you want me to call your parents? Or mine?” I shook my head.
“Just a bit dizzy. I will be fine in a minute.” He looked at me with concern and sat down by my knees, his hand resting on my thigh.
“Medicine?”
“No.”
“Food, water?”
“No.” He lapsed into silence and just stared at me. I closed my eyes, hoping that would ease my swirling head. Then, at the edges of my consciousness, I heard music. It started softly, barely noticeable, then escalated to a normal sound like the volume on a normal person’s radio, then escalated to a pounding, throbbing monster. The music sounded like a violin, flute, snare, and saxophone playing the same, random notes. It let me know that I was about to start Dwelling.
“Dwelling,” I gasped to Damon so that when I passed out, he would not freak out.
“Now? Of all times? You aren’t well enough, Tate.”
“Not-my-choice,” I ground out. I remained conscious long enough to see his face pale and his eyes widen. Then a fury of purple, blue, green, and brown color swirled into my vision and I felt like I was being pulled into a hurricane. It was sort of pleasant. I flew through this tube of color, watching random objects fly past me like Alice falling down the rabbit hole.
Then I hit rock bottom. I expected the soft grass and pretty wildflowers. But I got put down into the bottom of a huge canyon. Jagged rock surrounded me. I heard the cries of unfamiliar birds and animals.
“It’s just my mind. How bad can it be?” I murmured, trying to reassure myself. But the mind is a vast place. You don’t know what you may find hidden in the corners.
I was sitting in soft, warm, bright green grass with my legs dangling over the bank into the river Murund. The water swirled gently around my ankles. It was such a clear, vivid blue that it was easy to see the spectacular colors of the fish: fiery reds, sunny yellows, deep blues, and majestic purples.
I ran my finger over the soft, delicate petal of one of the many wildflowers that surrounded me. Baby blue, pale pink, soft lavender and yellow blooms danced in a careless, happy ballet.
A feeling of aloneness struck me. No one would ever see this place. I was going to be forever alone here. No one to share this beautiful place with.
I stood up and brushed invisible dust off my pants. Silly me. Of course one would feel alone when the only place they could find acceptance, love, and peace would be their mind.
When I came to, I blinked slowly, letting my eyes adjust to the bright, false lights of the school. Just in time, too. The dismissal bell clanged loudly and everyone in the class jumped and bolted for the door. I gathered my books and followed slowly. The effects of what I called ‘Dwelling’ was taxing and I had been Dwelling for an hour and a half.
I made my way to my locker as quickly and discreetly as possible. I dodged giggling girls, teachers standing guard, and some kids staring intently at a bologna sandwich. I crammed my books into my locker and headed for the doors to freedom.
“Tate! Tate!” a voice called. I turned around and kept walking only backwards. The voice was easily identified as my best friend, Damon Bane. His white blond hair flopped all over his forehead and eyes as he ran to catch up. His skin was a deep tan, his eyes a clear, vivid blue, and his smile wide and perfect. He was tall, 6’6’’, and he was lanky, but muscular. When he swam, he cut through the water like a knife.
Damon slowed to walk once he got beside me and I turned back around.
“Okay, so you have to come over today because I got this beast game and I want you to play with me,” he said in a no-nonsense voice.
“Damon, I come over every day. I live at your house more than my own.” I love Damon. He is my best friend. He is the only person who knows about my ability to dwell in my mind. He is smart, funny, and so kind and selfless, but that boy has as much common sense as a walnut.
We walked out the big double doors and so began the most important few months of Damon Bane and Tate Abel’s life.
Once we got to Damon’s, he immediately commenced his daily after-school routine. He dumped his bag on the floor, kicked his shoes off so they hit me, made a mad dash to the kitchen as I chased him while muttering about the idiocy of males, he grabbed two Jell-O’s, two pickles, and two juice bottles, and raced up the stairs to his room as I followed.
His room was like any other boys. Posters of Bob Marley and Ozzy Osbourne littered the walls. Piles of dirty clothes lay in sporadic positions. His bed was shoved to the corner of the room. The door to his closet had a ‘No Admittance’ sign on it. The TV was on top of a wood coffee table with stacks of CDs and games surrounding it.
“Down or up?” he asked while rooting through a pile of games.
“Up.” He nodded and pulled a game from the stack with a triumphant smirk. I went inside the closet and pushed aside the shirts and pants so it was just black, empty space. I stepped to the back and Damon followed closely behind while pulling the door shut.
“Got the cord?” he asked.
I fumbled around in the darkness until my hand found a string with a marble at the end. “Yeah, got it.” I yanked down and I knew what happened even though I was blind to it. A piece of the drywall was pulled up to reveal a narrow, steep staircase which Damon and I commenced to climb. When he was in, he pulled a cord by the second stair and the piece of drywall slid back down. We climbed the stairs until we got to a small white door no more than two and a half feet wide and tall.
I got on all fours and pushed the door in and crawled in. Damon followed and once in the next room, he shut the door.
The room was medium size, with no windows because it was supposed to be secret and the roof was slanted because it was pressed up against the roof. The best Damon and I could come up with is that it used to hide slaves during the time of the Underground Railroad.
We had renovated the small space to suit our needs. There was an ugly plaid futon in the corner that I typically used when I did not feel like going home. A small TV with mountains of games and game systems surrounding it decorated the far wall. A short, fat bookshelf was next to the futon that I had crammed a bunch of my favorite books onto. By the TV were two video games chairs so we could listen to our iPod or radio. An arm’s length away from the chair was a mini fridge that we had pooled our money to get. It had a ton of Jell-o cups and juice bottles.
I flopped onto the futon with a dramatic sigh. “What game is it?” I asked.
“War of the Dwarves,” he replied. I gave him a ‘you-have-to-be-kidding-me’ look. “Kidding. Call of Duty: World at War 2.”
“Cool.” I went over to the floor length mirror that had been here when we moved in.
My black hair was tied up in a knot on top of my head. My skin was (as Damon said) Harry Potter white. I was about medium height and was petite in build. My gray eyes stared back at me sullenly. My green Yoshi shirt came a little above the waist band of my jeans.
“You’re beautiful, darling,” Damon commented in a peculiar voice. “Care to come play or are you going to primp?”
I scowled, but went over and grabbed an Xbox controller. We sat for easily two hours, our faces glued to the screen. No words were exchanged between us except for Damon cursing or crowing at the screen occasionally.
“Ha, ha!” I yelled after a while. “You have been shot down!”
“No! NO!” he wailed. He tossed the controller down and flopped backward.
“Loser.”
“Shut up,” he cried.
I stood up and immediately felt dizzy. Nothing new. We had played video games forever. But when I stumbled and hit the wall, Damon noticed.
“Hey, Tate, are you okay?" I nodded, but regretted it because a wave of nausea hit me. I fell over but Damon was there and caught me. He picked me up effortlessly like I was a baby and laid me on the futon.
“Do you want me to call your parents? Or mine?” I shook my head.
“Just a bit dizzy. I will be fine in a minute.” He looked at me with concern and sat down by my knees, his hand resting on my thigh.
“Medicine?”
“No.”
“Food, water?”
“No.” He lapsed into silence and just stared at me. I closed my eyes, hoping that would ease my swirling head. Then, at the edges of my consciousness, I heard music. It started softly, barely noticeable, then escalated to a normal sound like the volume on a normal person’s radio, then escalated to a pounding, throbbing monster. The music sounded like a violin, flute, snare, and saxophone playing the same, random notes. It let me know that I was about to start Dwelling.
“Dwelling,” I gasped to Damon so that when I passed out, he would not freak out.
“Now? Of all times? You aren’t well enough, Tate.”
“Not-my-choice,” I ground out. I remained conscious long enough to see his face pale and his eyes widen. Then a fury of purple, blue, green, and brown color swirled into my vision and I felt like I was being pulled into a hurricane. It was sort of pleasant. I flew through this tube of color, watching random objects fly past me like Alice falling down the rabbit hole.
Then I hit rock bottom. I expected the soft grass and pretty wildflowers. But I got put down into the bottom of a huge canyon. Jagged rock surrounded me. I heard the cries of unfamiliar birds and animals.
“It’s just my mind. How bad can it be?” I murmured, trying to reassure myself. But the mind is a vast place. You don’t know what you may find hidden in the corners.
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