There is a world in which we are and there was a world in which we are not. And by 'are not', I mean we were never born, we never will be born and will, thusly never exist in. But I suppose we are lucky. I have heard terrible things about this world. Only a select few people can go into this world. It all started with one man, the most unlikely man, who is known only as Mr. C. He was a strange man; some even say he was a mass murderer. But, I think differently. I think the portal he created for us will further our world. Before his portal, all we knew was this one, this terrible, world. He expanded our horizons. It used to be that anyone and everyone was allowed through but now, only the 'best and brightest' of our world may go to this magical place. Political ambassadors, of course, are always going in and out.

Let me explain this a little bit better, Mr.C was a strange, disturbed man. He would go into the other world and cause little pockets of chaos. Obviously, he wasn't the best guy around but in the end, he was kind enough to let others go in and out of the portal. The 'portal' is basically a small, black hole. It pulls us through and brings us to our parallel world. The differences are so miniscule that we have begun to blend our two worlds into one.

"Godammit! Get off of the fucking computer, Todd." That's my friend, Pepito. He's a pretty famous guy.

"I'm writing the story of our world if you don't mind. Besides, aren't you supposed to be leaving?" We've been friends since we were young'uns.

"Well, I am but I was hoping that my best friend would see me off." He had a quick temper, which had become even quicker since his father handed over the reins of the family 'business'.

"I'm sorry, I suppose I can take a break, just for you." I'm not sure if you've gathered this or not, but he is going through the portal. See, his father was a very famous man. One of the most famous men is what should be said. No, his father was not an actor or a politician. His father was Satan, The Devil. Which means, of course, that Pepito is the Anti-Christ. Not that he's necessarily against Christ. He's just the Second Coming, The Prince of Darkness, etcetera, etcetera. His mother is a retired social worker. In fact, she is the reason I am no longer in the insane asylum I was committed to when I was eight.

See, my parents were not what one would call good people. My mother was always popping prescription medication and my father just flat out hated me. It never escalated into full on abuse but it was always neglect. I took care of myself from day one. It is kind of hard to entirely blame them for how they treated me, though I do blame them for ninety-nine-point-nine-percent of it. I do understand that they never wanted me, though. It's painful but I do know that they would probably have been much happier without me.

But back to the situation with the insane asylum and my being committed to it. I broke out at one point and went to Pepito's house I was quickly found and sent back but soon after, Pepito's mother retrieved me and took me in as her own. With one condition, I had to give up my teddy bear, Shmee. I'm not too upset by this, the bear was fucking crazy and wanted me to kill and maim and shit, but he had been my security blanket and my only friend. But there was no fucking way I was staying in the asylum. Especially not with the Crazy Neighbor Man there doing that bullshit sleep study thing.

Maybe I should explain Crazy Neighbor Man. He was my ex-next door neighbor. He was also very creepy and he used to come to me covered in blood asking me for medical supplies. And when I say "he used to come to me" I mean he'd climb up the tree outside of my window, break in and tell me to get him different things. Then he would proceed to tell me hideous "bedtime stories" that would cause disturbing nightmares. But he was nice enough. I knew he cared, anyways. And now, he's disappeared and famous. There has been a worldwide search for the first person to treat me like family that has been going on for years.

"So, are you going to take that break now, amigo? Or should I come back in a few years?" Pepito looked at me mockingly.

"Fine. I just feel so…inspired today. Like I need to get the story out." I am a writer. One of my few passions in life is telling tales. That and dancing. Well, maybe not dancing. Okay, definitely not dancing. But I do like writing.

"I'll let you get back to your story in a moment I just wanted to say goodbye, hombre." He put on a small smile.

"You know I'm going to miss you. After all, we're siblings." That's been our running joke ever since his mother took custody. At first I was scared but once I came out of my shell, things improved. I'd even made a couple of other friends. Of course they were all as weird as me, but I don't mind.

"That's right, mí hermano, we'll forever be brothers." His impish grin was completely contagious and I could automatically feel the muscles tightening to expose my teeth. I then proceeded to grab him and give him the biggest hug I could without feeling like an over-emotional, hot, mess. "Whoa, you do realize I'll be back in a couple of days, right?"

"Well, you told me to say goodbye. Besides, you never know what can happen." As he left my room, I couldn't help but think about everything that could happen to him. As it is, he shouldn't even be going to these meetings. We aren't all that old. Only about 17 to be honest. He shouldn't have started his life's mission this early. Meetings in the other world with their nation's leaders. But he did get to see a lot of exciting things.

On the other hand, think about all of the hideous things that could happen to him. Fuck. My mind is evil. All I can think about is the portal closing or him getting killed in the other world or a combination of the two. All of the what-ifs swirling around my head making me upset, ugh. I should just banish those thoughts. If anything, I will see him on Monday. Thinking about it more, maybe I should just get out of the house for the weekend, too. I could always go to Dib's. His father is always glad to see me and I think that would be some good fun. Dib has been friends with Pepito and I since we met him in the sixth grade. I remember seeing him from across the hall, his sythe shaped cow-lick towering over everyone's heads. Just like we were targeted, he was targeted though he was admittedly a bit more psychotic at that point than we were but he never let that get it down. Well, that's how it seemed. But then one day I go into his bedroom, unannounced, just stopping by for a visit and I see him sitting there, just, like, sobbing. He just fell apart. He had been cutting himself. A dirty habit that he never let anyone in on. I remember his words as if they were spoken here and now. He looked at me and said 'I can't stand this, everyday, sun up to sun down, everyone just hates me. And why shouldn't they? I'm just a screw up. I'm not worth anything. I don't know how much longer I can deal with this.' I know I should have said something to someone. After all, that's what they tell you to do. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I check on him every day, just to make sure he isn't going to die. But, for a few years now, I've been hiding his secret. I know he would never take it too far. He never could, there's too much riding on him. Too many people he feels he needs to save. In any case, I've been acting as his therapist and his best friend since we were about thirteen, when I found out about his self-mutilation issues. His family appreciates that I've helped him tone himself down a bit.

I went for my phone to call Dib and I have a missed call, a text message and a voice-mail. I read the text first since that is the easiest to do. All it was was a phone number. I noticed that the area code was the same as my old neighborhood (one never forgets their first phone number). As I sat there staring, I thought about who it could be. After all, the portal was in my old neighborhood, in fact it was right next door to my old house: in the crazy neighbor man's house. Oh, man, I did forget to mention that. Yeah, my crazy neighbor man was Mr. C. Though I did call him something else. He asked me to call him Johnny or Nny. In a way, I do wish he had stayed longer, because no matter how much he scared me or how many bodies they found, I still missed him and I still thought of him as family. He was like a deranged big brother. I loved him in a way.

I decided that I would go back to the text message, if necessary after listening to the voice-mail. "Hey, Squeegee, it's been some fucking time." Holy fucking SHIT, it was Nny. "I'm back. Call me back, I'd like to see you." His voice was…dead. Yeah, that's probably the best way to describe it. Maybe…empty? One of those words anyways. But I suppose that doesn't matter. I suppose I should just call him back.

* Ring *

* Riiiing *

* Riiiiiing*

* Ring *

"…Hello?" He answered quietly, as though afraid and curious.

"Hi, it's—"

"Squeegee. I knew you'd call back. I got your number from the school."

"They gave you my cell-phone number?"

"Well, they gave me your new mom's work number who gave me your cell number." Like it should have been obvious.

"Oh. So, you're back?"

"Yeah, for now. I missed you."

"You know, I missed you too, Nny."

"So you do remember me. I wasn't so sure. Reverend Meat insisted you wouldn't, in fact. He said that I would have to rebuild from scratch and that would be my just dessert for abandoning you and shit."

"I don't think I could ever forget you."

"Oh, sorry." He sounded disappointed. I felt a burst of guilt and realized that he had misunderstood what I had been trying to tell him.

"No, no, no, that's not what I mean. It's just, you were kind of…my first family member type thingy. And I've missed you a lot."