I squinted at the tiny sign under the huge painting. "[Something] World" I couldn't tell what it said. I hadn't learned the kanji yet.

"What does that say?" I asked Garry. He leaned in and squinted against the darkness of the room.

"It says 'Fabricated World'" He took a step back, then looked again. "Is that the gallery?" He asked. We both looked at it. It was definitely the gallery.

"Is this the way out?" I asked him. He shrugged.

"I have no clue." He idly touched the painting's frame, and it disappeared. "Aah!" He shrieked and jumped back. After regaining his composure, he approached it slowly (just in case something would jump out) and cautiously placed a finger on the painting. It went through the canvas. He stuck his arm all the way in.

"Should we go in?" I asked.

"Well it's worth a shot," he replied. At that moment, I heard the sound of high-heels clicking on the marble floor. I turned around.

"No way!" I whispered. It was my mom! She was in the 'other' gallery the whole time? She must've been so worried!

"Ib, we should go." Garry said. Why was he worried? Seriously, it was my mom.

"I can't believe you wandered off, Ib!" My mom scolded me.

"I'm sorry." I muttered under my breath.

"Ib, we've got to go!" Garry said urgently. I turned to face Garry, but Mom grabbed my arm sternly"You are not going with him! This is ridiculous, we're going home." My mother started walking off. I glanced sadly at Garry; he extended his hand.

"Ib, please! Take my hand."

"You will not go with him!" I sadly shook my head at Garry and went with my mother. Tears sprung to my eyes. I didn't bother watching where we were going for a while. When I finally looked up, I saw the scenery of the sketch pad.

"Oh no..." I said quietly. I looked up at my mother, knowing she wasn't real. The vision faded away. I sat down and tried to think of the exit. Where was it... Oh yeah! It was in that pink house, wasn't it? I ran down to the pink house, opened the door, and ran down the steps by twos. At the bottom of the steps she looked around, but everything was wrong. Instead of the black marble that had been there before, it was green carpet and ugly green wallpaper. There was no sign advertising the Guertena exhibit. Somehow the stairs had taken me somewhere else. "Okay, I'll just head back" I thought. I turned around, and my exit was gone.