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This is the first chapter in a story I never finished. I now consider it out of date and won't be updating this storyline specifically, but instead will be working on a rewrite of it! I don't know when or if it will ever come out, but for now, this dusty draft will be kept online for the foreseeable future.

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The scenery blurred past the train. Trees, rain, and the seemingly eternal darkness of the wet countryside hiding who knows what out beyond the rails seemed to continue on forever. Inside, no one seemed to worry about the deep abyss that surrounded them; only the inside of the car could hold their attention. Well, no one except a figure in the rear.

Dressed in worn jeans and scuffed shoes, Kenneth James sat facing out the window, hearing only the sounds of rain hitting the windows. All that was in his possession was a plain canvas sack with a star stitched to the front. He had brown, ruffled hair and grey eyes that seemed to search for everything and nothing at once. As he was, separated from most of the other passengers in the front, he tried to sift through the events of his day so far.

Everything was white. As I walked down the corridor, I couldn’t help but notice how little contrast there seemed to be here, wherever here was, and there was only one good word to describe what I was seeing. Boring. There were other words of course, clean, tidy, safe, but I couldn’t help but feel a kind of emptiness when I looked around myself and saw nothing but the white.

I had been walking down this corridor for what felt like hours when I found the door. Even painted the same stark white as everything else, its detail couldn’t be hidden. Little dancing figures, delicately carved into the panel of wood caught my eye, as well as what looked like multiple carved stars. If those symbols had any meaning, I definitely didn’t know what it was, but partly because of that and because I was so bored, I began walking towards it.

As I got to the door, I felt something strange. It was as if something on the other side of the door pulled me towards it or called to me. But that couldn’t be. “It’s just a door”, I whispered to myself, listening to my voice echo down the long and empty hall. But there was nothing else there, nothing at all but a little white door in a large white world, so I opened it.

Something was there. No, someone was there, in yet another white hall, watching me as I passed through the doorway. Dressed in some type of flowing robe covered in green symbols like the ones on the doorway, I couldn’t help but think of how beautiful she looked. Her hair seemed to flow in this invisible wind, lightly brushing against her soft, ivory skin. As I looked, she seemed to float upon the air like a feather without the constant pull of gravity to worry about; her face full of the confidence of what could be an eternity of living.

This being, for she seemed too perfect to be Human, too powerful to be Human, stared at me. But as she did, her piercing green eyes seemed to project for an instant, not the serenity which the rest of her presence held, but sorrow and pity. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why…

‘buzzt….. buzzt….. buzzt…..’

What was that noise? I looked around to find the source of it, my eyes trying to see in the shadows of the hall. Wait. Shadows? ‘There weren’t shadows anywhere I looked before’, I thought, panicking slightly.

“Who are you?” I asked tensely, having forgot about the noise that interrupted our staring contest in the first place, hoping that I could get some answers that included how the hell I got here in the first place.

“This is not how it was supposed to be”, she said solemnly, ignoring my first question.

‘buzzt... buzzt... buzzt... buzzt... buzzt...’

That incessant noise was getting louder and the shadows creeping further, I needed to get answers.

“What are you talking about?!” I half asked, half demanded her. I looked around quickly at the shadows closing in on us, wondering what would happen when they finally reached, and at the same time wishing that things didn’t have to be progressing this quickly, that I actually had time to get information.

“You are not how it was supposed to be”, she spoke quietly so that a pin drop would hide her voice, while at the same time floating slowly to the ground. As she did so, I couldn’t help but feel how small I was compared to her. If she wanted to, she could have probably fried me in an instant. I shut my mouth.

‘buzzt. buzzt. buzzt. buzzt. buzzt. buzzt. buzzt.’

The darkness was almost upon us now, but she began walking. Just as fast as the shadows she came, but seemingly opposing them at the same time.

That’s when I noticed she was glowed, just slightly. I wouldn’t have noticed before as the light she cast blended in with the whiteness of everything else, but as the darkness came, her shine bore through and lit her face so it was the only thing I could see.

It was when that glow appeared that something happened. Something I could not explain. I recognized her. From somewhere I was sure, but I didn’t know where in the world that could be. It was as if she was not from this world. But how could that be possible? How could it be possible if I recognized that face?

My curiosity of her overcame my fear.

“Who are you?” I asked again, but quieter this time. The shadows creeping even further, my body beginning to feel numb.

“All in good time, little sister...” she said and as she did, she touched my cheek. A warm, tingling sensation swept through my body originating from her touch and a tear broke off and rolled down her face.

“Wha…” I got out as, at last frozen and numb, the darkness and shadows finally consumed me.

***

I woke up feeling disoriented. As I slowly opened my eyes, the dim view of my bedroom came into focus. The green walls that looked putrid with age, the piles of worn clothing on the floor and even the crushed piles of note paper at the corner of my desk pulled me to reality, but it was the feeling of warmth coming from the covers of my bed that seemed to anchor me to the real world.

I wasn’t in those weird white halls, there was no lady staring at me, and there was no darkness enveloping me. I was in my dark apartment; it was just a dream.

But what a dream it was. It felt so real, like I had actually traveled there and saw… and saw this woman who called me sister?

“What the fuck was that about?” I mumbled into my hands as I wiped the sleep from my face.

‘buzzt….. buzzt….. buzzt…..’

I stopped thinking about that dream for a while and looked to my left to see my alarm clock buzzing its heart’s content to the fact that it was quarter to noon.

“Shit! Not today, not today!”

Why did it seem that bad luck had reared its ‘lovely’ head and bit my ass again on this one? Well, it just so happened to be the day that my very important final report was due, and the class started in fifteen minutes.

Switching off the ancient alarm clock and leaping out of bed, I went straight for the dark bathroom a few feet away and flicked on the bright light to get ready.

The grungy mirror seemed to hold little respect for my face. It projected the important things of course, two eyes, one mouth, one nose, what have you, but every time I looked, something just seemed to be wrong with myself. There did seem to be one thing that the mirror couldn’t hold against me today, though.

‘Huh, at least I don’t have to waste time shaving’, I thought as I did my once over. It was just one less thing I had to do before going out the door, but everything helps. I also decided to skip my regular shower this morning and just brush my teeth and run a comb through my hair. No point in using valuable time on a shower if I didn’t yet smell horrible.

Looking a little better than when I woke up, I checked back at the clock. The dusty minute hand pointed at ten to twelve. I had to get moving, so I began searching for the school bag that had my report in it.

Wherever it was…

I began the search around my clothing pile, thinking that I would have just thrown it there with everything else. But wherever I looked, beside my bed, under the covers, under my laptop, or near my crumpled up notes, there was nothing to be found.

But just as I was about to look somewhere else, I noticed something that hadn’t been there before. Beside my pile of notes was a canvas sack with a blue star stitched to the front that I didn’t remember ever buying.

“Nah, it couldn’t be…”

I stared at the star on the sack, trying to ignore the fact that it looked disturbingly like the ones in my dream.

Ripping my eyes away from the star, I slowly picked up the sack and searched inside it for any clues as to whom it belonged. What I found, however, were the papers for my report. Placing those on the desk I tried in vain to find some sort of identifying mark, something that would help me figure out whose bag this was and how my papers just appeared with it. But as I glanced at the clock again I realized that I had used up another five minutes just in search of my report.

Knowing that I would need all the time I could get to arrive to class on-time, I hastened my pace even more and instead of wondering for a second where I could have gotten that bag, I stuffed my papers into the odd sack, grabbed my keys off the bedside table and ran out the door labeled zero five.

***

I ran down the single flight of dingy stairs and burst through the doors to the garage to get to the piece of junk I call my car.

If someone was to enter the garage, they would have hard time deciding whether it might just be a better idea to park outside. The area was lit by only a few flickering inflorescent lights, the walls were damp and every dark corner seemed to be able to hide some sort of nasty thing. The only reason I chose to park my car here was because any sort of rainfall would probably rust whatever’s holding the piece of junk together.

Instead of staying longer and acting the part of the innocent lamb, I kept running to my car, unlocked the door and slid in on the faded blue upholstery.

Fumbling initially, I found the key to the ignition and put it in the slot, chanting quietly in my head ‘please work, please work’, and as if fate intervened, it started on the first rotation.

“Thank you!” I replied merrily to the car’s engine, kissing the steering wheel once to keep the luck going.

Trying in earnest to leave the dank garage behind me, I got out onto the road and sped away from my apartment on Oak Street under the overcast sky.

***

The drive to campus could only be thought of as slow. Weaving in between cars and going down all of the shortcuts I could find still didn’t get me to the campus until ten minutes later, a full five late. Of course, it was then that I realized that scheduling my class for noon probably wasn’t the greatest idea in the first place, what with everybody desperately trying to find a place to eat.

Looking away from the clock on the car dashboard, I checked that my papers were still in the sack. Knowing they were safely stowed away, I grabbed the sack and headed into the maze of glass and steel that was the school campus.

Someone was following me.

“Hey! Hey, Ken! Wait up!”

Luckily for me, it was just Luke Stothers, the only guy I knew from high school that I still saw with relative frequency. His brown eyes and black tousled hair gave him an almost boyish look but the extra glitter in his eyes complemented it with a look of youthful inquisitiveness.

As he bounded, the backpack he had on bounced dangerously on its thin straps but catching up, he slowed his pace and we began walking and talking our way to class.

“Whew! Glad I’m not the only one to be late. Got your report ready to hand in?”

“Yep,” I said patting the canvas sack slightly, “right here.”

“Hey, when’d you get the bag?”

“No clue. I just found it in my room with my report stuffed in it.”

“Are you sure? You weren’t just drunk when you got it, right? I mean, that’s a pretty unique looking star and I don’t think a sober person would easily forget it.

“I’m sure Luke, and you know I don’t drink!”

“Then why are you late? Hmm?” he asked with a smug smile as if he cornered me.

I decided not to tell him about the weird dream, lest any questions about sanity were to come up. I quickly came up with something else instead.

“My alarm broke.”

“Sure it did”, he said, spotting the fib from a mile away.

That put us in an awkward silence. I tried a little to break the tension, but Luke broke it when he brought up another point I didn’t want to think too much about.

“So… When do you head out to your parent’s place?”

“Urgh… Tonight.”

I hated the times I had to go to my parent’s place. Don’t get me wrong, they are good people. They fed me, they made sure I did my homework (whenever they found out about it), and they loved me too. It was when, just before leaving for college, they told me that I wasn’t truly their child that it all became a little awkward. Every time my parents and I struck up a conversation afterwards, it veered back to the question that I had asked just before leaving. Why? Why was I adopted? Why didn’t my other parents keep me? Why did they have to wait until I was already an adult to tell me? Why me? The only thing was, was that they hadn’t been able to give me an answer, and because of that, the awkward conversational loop we go through repeats itself every time we start talking to each other.

“Hey, you want to come with me?” I asked.

“What? Me?”

“Yes. C’mon, I’ll need somebody to keep the conversation from getting dull and it’s only ‘till tomorrow. Besides, today is the last day before semester break. Please?”

“Well, I don’t know. There are a few things I need to do tonight…”

“There will be enough time to go to the pub and hook up with women after we get off the train tomorrow night, so don’t worry; I’ll even pay the tab.”

“Ok, fine. But that tab’s going to be so long, you’re going to have to sell all your stuff to pay for it.”

“Done and thank you! You’re the best friend a guy could ask for!”

“Yah, yah, and you better remember that too!” he said jokingly as we got to the door of the classroom.

Looking through the window, we discreetly checked to see if our professor, Mr. Michael Jones, was facing the door. If luck was on our side, he would be facing towards the board.

Being in what most people could guess as his mid-fifties, anyone who saw Professor Jones would think that he was something of a scholar. His semi-hunched back and his Mr. Rogers sweater vest were what most people thought of first when describing him, but his strict sense of authority never went unnoticed either.

As we peered through the door, we saw him facing the board writing down a few notes about the start of next semester.

“Wouldn’t you think that one semester at a time is enough for a person?” Luke wondered aloud as I slowly turned the handle and opened the door.

I smirked at that and walked into the class trying my best to find a seat without making any noise. Luke grabbed the door after me and closed it slowly, creating a soft click when the latch snapped in place.

“Messrs. James and Stothers, it’s good to see that you made it to your final class”, Professor Jones stated. “Would you please gather your reports and place them on the table up front?”

“Damn. Where did he get such bat like hearing?” Luke whispered, fishing his papers out from the depths of his bag.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s the same place he gets his vests”, I shot back.

I dug my hands into my bag in search of my notes. But it seemed they had disappeared again.

“Aw hell no” I barely whispered as I tried to recall where I could have left it.

I tried to go over in my head where I last might have placed my report, but nothing came to mind. The last place I remembered being was in my car, and I know I double-checked that I had my report with me before racing off and meeting with Luke.

“Hey, Luke, do you have my report with you?” I asked him, trying not to sound suspicious. He might’ve taken it from my bag as a practical joke.

“What, you lost it?”

“Just, could you please check your bag?”

“Fine, don’t get your panties in a knot. Sheesh!” he grumbled back.

“Nope, I got nothing other than what I brought with me in the first place”, he said after a few seconds, “tell you what though, I’ll go up and soften up old Jones and maybe you’ll be able to write up a new one while we’re at your parents’ place. Or, you might find it at your apartment?”

“Shit, yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Thanks.”

“Don’t worry, just think of it as something else to add to that bar tab”, he chuckled and walked off to the front of the class.

I looked up as Luke began conversing with Professor Jones. It seemed to be going well so far, but I couldn’t really hear what they were saying what with every other student chatting up the person beside them. Mr. Jones had always given me the impression that he was a bit like an immovable object when it came to his rules, and one of his oldest rules was that no one is to be allowed the luxury of handing in any late assignments. That’s not to say that I didn’t have any hope for the situation. Since I had known Luke in high school, he had always known the right thing to say. Being part of a debate team when he was younger seemed to hone his skills when it came to the delicate art of conversation. All of that aside, when it came to people like Professor Jones, set in stone so hard that they can’t get air in their lungs, I had to worry at least a little.

I glanced back after my little reverie and saw Luke walking back towards his seat beside me.

“Did it go well?” I asked, daring myself to look at Jones’ face to see if it held an answer for me.

“Sorry man, no. He won’t budge on it at all.”

“Well fuck me then, I’m going to have to retake this course then, I guess. At least he didn’t take any marks away from you for asking, though, right?” I asked, wishing that the professor would at least have a little decency in him.

“I don’t think I did. He seemed a little too preoccupied with failing you to be that mad at me.”

“Well, that’s good then, I think.”

Not having to dare myself anymore, I glanced back up at Professor Jones to see if he was still mulling over what had just happened. Instead, he had begun writing notes on the board about next semester’s class.

Noting that I no longer needed to take that course, I chose to just pick up my things and leave early.

“Hey, Ken. When and where do you want me to meet you later?” Luke asked, remembering the trip to my parents’ place after I had already forgotten.

“Oh, just come by my apartment at around three thirty. Also, take the bus; you wouldn’t want to leave your car around my place for too long; I can then just drive us both to the train station.”

“Will do, buddy. I’ll see you then.”

“See you then.”

After the exchange of farewells, I left to my car without so much as a glance back and drove home to get ready.

***

I arrived back at my apartment around twenty minutes later. The only reason it had taken longer to travel the same route I had when I left was because I had to check and double check every nook and cranny that existed inside my car in hopes that the report was there and that I might be able to pass the course, but I still couldn’t find it. However, having left class early, I still had an abundance of time to get ready before Luke arrived and we left for the station.

Even though I had never enjoyed going to see my parents, I did it rather often — around once every few months. I don’t think I will truly know why I go so often, but it might partially because I still want us to be able to talk to each other like we used to. I mean, they are my parents and they raised me; it shouldn’t matter that we aren’t related by blood. But it’s just when we actually get to talking that my brain brings back that annoying question. Why? I knew that if I was to ever be able to get along with my parents again, they would have to answer that question. It was good that I was going with Luke as back-up this time because I might just be able to get my answer.

But first I would have to call and tell them Luke was coming.

Dropping the canvas sack on my bed, I picked up my phone and dialed the number.

“Hello?” it was my mom.

“It’s Ken”, I responded, hoping for a quick conversation.

“Kenneth William James, I know you can give your mother a better hello than that.”

“Hi Mom”, I said trying to provoke little resistance so that I could ask about Luke and get off the phone without much in the way of conversation.

“Hi Ken, what did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to let you know that Luke is coming on the trip as well. You remember him right?” I asked, knowing we had hung out many times at my house when we were in high school.

“Yes Ken, I remember him”, she said, “and he can come too, I’ll just put the cot out in your room. I think it will fit.”

“Ok, thanks. I’ll see you when we get…”

“Oh, and Ken?”

“Yes?” I said, thinking about how close I had come to finishing a conversation that did not feel awkward.

“You know your father and I both love you right?”

“Yes, I know. It’s just…” I tried to come up with the right words, “Never mind, I’ll see you tonight. I love you too”, I added the last part because, no matter what happened, I couldn’t not love them.

“I’ll see you then. Bye”, she said before she hung up.

“Bye”, I said to the empty line.

I decided to start packing my things to get my mind off of the phone call. Doing either that or organizing some of my things would usually help clear my mind. I had only been having troubles with that when I started to have less and less time to do extra things as I had begun preparing for the finals and final projects of my classes.

Knowing that I would only be gone for the night, I headed over to where the canvas sack was to get it filled with a few of my clothes. I would have normally used my school bag on such an occasion, but since it was lost like my report, I didn’t have the option. All I could hope for was enough room for my laptop as well as my clothing so I could distract myself on the train ride.

I retrieved a few wrinkled clothes from my closet and carefully stuffed them in the sack along with my obligatory toothbrush and change of underwear. Reaching for my laptop and its required cables, I tried to figure out how they would fit in with everything else. More importantly, I tried to figure out if it was just plain too big. After a few poor organizational techniques, I somehow stowed it away well enough to close the tie the string on the top.

Having gotten everything tucked away, I checked my clock once more and saw the hands pointing to ten past one. It had barely taken any time to pack and I still had over two hours until Luke arrived.

My stomach took that time to rumble.

I had forgotten that I hadn’t eaten breakfast, so I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a loaf of bread that hadn’t yet gone stale.
Because I had to lower my budget back when I moved out on my own, I cut back on a few things including sliced bread. I ended up having to make my own with an old bread machine a few friends had loaned to me when they figured they didn’t need it. I had been getting better at making bread since, but I still needed work.

Turning around, I grabbed a good bread knife and sliced a few pieces off. I grabbed a plate and put them down. As I was putting down the plate though, the knife I still had in my hand slipped a little. I instinctively tried to hold it tighter, but that made it worse since the blade had slid down onto the palm of my hand, and I ended up cutting my hand on the blade.

“Ow!” I said, dropping the knife and jumping back so as to not cut my toes as well.

“Shit, today’s just not my day, is it?” I said to the stale air of my apartment.

Picking up the knife with my good hand, I dropped it off in the sink and turned on the water to rinse off the blood. As it was rinsing, I walked quickly to the bathroom to apply a bandage to my cut.

Officially cleaned up, I finished making my quick meal, turned off the running water and sat down to watch eat quietly and watch some TV. I flipped through the channels trying to find something good, but since it was midday on a weekday, there was nothing good on yet. I figured that I might as well check the weather forecast around my parents’ place, so I to flipped it to the all-day new station. By the time I had found the channel, the end of the weather report was finishing and the regular new was starting again.

Finally finishing my meal, I piled the dishes in the sink with the knife and went back into the bathroom to take the shower I skipped in the morning.

I stripped off my clothes and turned on the shower to let it heat up. Before I entered, I remembered that I had the bandage on and so I ripped it off quickly and chucked it in the trash. I would have to be a little careful with the cut until I got a new bandage later.

It wasn’t until I looked at my hand that I noticed I might not even need that bandage. The cut had already scabbed over and the area around it was looking lighter. That bit of info shocked me a little bit because I thought the cut was deeper. Normally a cut like that would take a lot longer to heal. I figured in the end it was the cut being shallower after all and I stepped into the spraying water for a quick shower.

After I had washed myself to what I deemed clean enough, I stepped out of the shower, toweled off and changed into my clothes.
I heard the weather come on in the background as I exited the bathroom.

“…looks like we will be having some thunderstorms tonight and light showers tomorrow. Expect those showers to hang around until at least next Monday.

For those inland, you can expect the same except the thunderstorms will hang around in your area until tomorrow morning at the latest.”

I inwardly groaned hearing that. I lived nearer to the coast and my parents lived inland, so while on the train, I would be riding with a moving storm system. Knowing that just seemed to make me cringe a little, it just doesn’t feel safe being in a moving lightning rod on iron tracks.

“In breaking news…”

I looked back to the TV to see what was going on.

“A residential high-rise has collapsed at the intersection of Dunbar and Grandview Street. Witnesses have reported signs of struggle before the collapse on one of the floors, but police have not yet confirmed yet if those reports are related to the collapse.

Multiple fire rescue and ambulance vehicles have arrived at the scene and are now tending to those who were injured. Other rescue personnel have begun searching through the wreckage to find other victims…”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. This was happening only a few blocks away from where I lived, and on the TV it almost looked like someone had taken a hammer and smashed the building as if it were a nail to be driven into wood. The clips of footage they were showing showed people everywhere, whether they were trying to help, or just trying to run away from it all, it seemed just chaotic. It was incredible only in the sense that I could not believe it. I continued watching.

“…People are being advised to stay out of the area until the rescue efforts have finished. Both Dunbar and Grandview Street have been temporarily closed at that intersection and drivers are being directed to other routes. I repeat. People are advised to steer clear of the area and drivers are being directed to other routes.”

They continued showing clips of the damage. The dust cloud that emanated from the debris seemed to fog up the sky. Fires seemed to rage in small pockets everywhere, even in buildings the debris had landed on.

I felt related to this somehow. I didn’t really know why, but I seemed connected to the disaster. It might have been because what I was watching on TV in my couch was happening only a few blocks away and I wasn’t out there helping, even though civilians had been told to stay away for their safety, but I couldn’t seem to reason it out properly. I just felt guilty somehow.

A swift knock came at the door jolting me from my thoughts.

End