Chapter 1

Urgh…my head…what happened? Where am I? And who's playing a piano?!

Well, give credit where credit's due. Whoever's playing it is really good.

I lift my head up from my crossed arms and apply pressure to my temples. My vision is misty and I feel somewhat queasy, like when you wake up from a really vivid dream. Rubbing my eyes with the base of my palm, I try to collect my surroundings. Everything in the room I'm in is painted entirely a violet color, including the stool I'm sitting on, which has quite the fancy cushion. Gold threading, intricate markings, the whole nine yards. If I didn't know any better, I'd say I'm in a bar…which makes even less sense considering I'm underage, have never been to a bar, and don't drink.

"Greetings…" a smooth voice calls out to me.

Nearly leaping from my seat from the sudden voice, I look up to see an old hunchbacked crazy-eyed balding man in a fancy suit standing behind the bar and, holy crap, this guy has the longest nose I have ever seen in my life. If I lean too far forward he could probably poke my eye out with it. The strangest thing about this man, though, is that while he seems like someone you'd see on the streets of New York in the dead of night trying to polish your shoes, he has some sort of air about him that makes him seem…I dunno, important?

"Welcome…to the Velvet Room!" The man holds his arms out, motioning to the room. He speaks in a way that would normally be unnerving, but this case, almost sounds thoughtful and knowledgeable. He brings his arms back to his chest. "And my name is Igor. I am delighted to make your acquaintance."

I stumble on my words, but eventually manage to force out a, "H-hello…"

Igor chuckles and a chill runs up my spine. If I had half a brain, I'd get up and run, but I can't seem to find the exit. In fact, aside from Igor and I, the bar, the rack of drinks behind it, and the seat I'm sitting on, the room is entirely empty.

So where the hell is that piano?!

"Do not be alarmed. Please, calm yourself," Igor says. "There is much we have to discuss and I'm afraid we haven't much time!"

I hesitate, but eventually decide to steel myself. I sit up straighter and look Igor in the eyes. If staying here gets me killed, my obituary is gonna be really embarrassing, not to mention hard to explain.

"This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter..."

"So, then…I'm dreaming," I state. Makes sense, I guess.

Igor chuckles again. "All of our guests seem to ask that question…yes, you would happen to be dreaming…for now, at least. Someday, you will come to enter this room of your own accord."

Yeah, when hell freezes over.

"Only those bound by a contract may enter this place," Igor continues. "Henceforth, you shall be welcomed here in the Velvet Room as our special guest."

"You keep mentioning multiple people," I pique up. "But as far as I can see, there's just us."

"Most days, I have an assistant beside me," Igor flashes one of the creepiest smiles I have ever seen. "However, she could, unfortunately, not make it this evening. I will have to apologize on her behalf, as she was very much looking forward to meeting you."

I nod in agreement, and Igor keeps talking. "To remain a loyal guest in the Velvet Room is to do one thing and one thing only: To take full responsibility for any and all actions you perform and choices that you make." He waves his arm and a white sheet of paper with small writing appears before me on the bar. At the bottom is, strangely enough, my signature. "This contract binds you to this agreement, and thereby this place, as well as giving you access to our services."

"I never signed this!" I shout.

Igor looks slightly displeased. "Whether you physically signed it or not, destiny has called you here. The cards have spoken."

Cards? What the hell is this guy smoking?!

"I will continue to offer my services as long as you abide by the contract."

"What services?"

The man chuckles again. He seems pleased by the oddest things. "This will become clear in time. Remember my words, and think on them."

Reaching into his coat pocket, Igor pulls out a shiny purple key. The round end of it is decorated with what looks like a half-black, half-white mask. He places the key in my hands, using both of his own gloved hands to secure it in my grasp. I start panicking again when I find that the key is warmer than Igor's skin.

"Take this, and do not lose it," he says to me in a serious tone. He pulls back his hands as I place the key in my left pocket. "We will meet again in the near future. Take care…"

Igor chuckles again as my vision gets even hazier. I feel myself falling, the sounds of the piano are drowning out, and everything fades to black…

{~}

I snap awake and sit up straight in my seat on the plane. My pillow's propped up vertically on the window and the cabin is dark. The only sounds I can hear are the slight hum of the engine, the barely audible music emanating from the headphones of the older woman next to me, and the occasional loud snore of the whale of a man in the back.

… I drooled on my pillow. Classy, self.

I reach into my left pocket and pull out…a key. I was partially hoping that I was just having a crazy fever dream. I sigh and return the key to my pocket. As I readjust my pillow, I gaze out the window. Through the expanse of gray clouds, I can see the lights of a city below me, the place bustling with activity. I was never someone who liked crowded and noisy cities. Thankfully, that's not where I'm going. I check the clock on my cell phone and see that it's only 5 AM. If I remember right, I won't be landing for another couple hours.

Great. Now I just have too much in my brain to sleep.

I try to get comfortable again and pick a song to listen to. I crank up my headphones and try to sleep, but after tossing around for about ten minutes, I decide it's a hopeless cause. I unzip the backpack at my feet and pull out a pen and red notebook from it, the front reading "Journal" in big black block letters. I flip it open to the fourth page and scribble down my thoughts.

"August 3rd, 2013 - Had a weird dream. Crazy old man with a big nose. Something about fate and cards. Showed me a contract I never signed and now I have a key. Really confused; don't know what it means."

After thinking for a little longer, my pen returns to the paper.

"Not feeling so great. Don't know how people at school will treat me. I barely have enough time to move in first. Hope my aunt isn't a bitch."

Feeling satisfied with my entry, I put the notebook and pen back into my backpack and put my head on my pillow, this time successfully drifting off.

{~}

"Excuse me…sir…"

Who's waking me up and why do they have a death wish?

My eyelids slowly begin to part, weary from sleep. The lights inside the plane are on and the sun is just beginning to rise. I sit up, stretch my aching body, and look over to the voice – the flight attendant.

"We've arrived to your destination. Thank you for flying with us, sir."

I take a quick glance around the plane, seeing vacant seats all throughout the cabin. Had I really slept through the entire rest of the flight?

"Where-…where are we?"

"Gode, North Dakota, sir."

Oh, thank God.

I thank the flight attendant and she heads back to the cockpit of the plane. Hoisting my backpack onto my right shoulder, I pop in my headphones, head into the airport, and immediately begin bumping into people.

Ugh. Crowds.

Using my expert skills of dodging people in school hallways, I proceed to duck and weave through the mass of people, some of them too tired to care what's going on, others in a rush to make their takeoff time, and some just standing around making calls. I swing by one of the food outlets and nab an egg & cheese biscuit before making a beeline for the luggage pickup. Luckily, they hadn't lost any of my bags, and I'm certainly not in the mood to be dealing with unhappy airport workers. With my rolling suitcase in tow, I head for the pickup lane and pick a bench. The warm emerging sun makes me regret picking black sweatpants to wear for the flight. I quickly scarf down the biscuit and throw the wrapper into my backpack. Feeling myself growing tired again, I pull out my smartphone, my fingers flying across the keyboard, composing a message for my aunt.

-In the pickup lane. You here yet?-

A few minutes pass before a reply appears.

-Almost. Hang tight. :) -

As I place the phone back in my pocket, a young-looking businessman in a night-black suit and maroon tie sits in the bench alongside me. He could be young enough to have just graduated from college, but the amount of papers he has makes him seem like a higher-up. He begins cycling through papers in his suitcase, as if checking to make sure he has everything. His frantic green eyes catch my presence and he smiles and nods a greeting. I nod back. He begins speaking to me, but all I hear is a sick guitar solo.

"I'm sorry?" I say as I pluck out the earbuds.

The man chuckles and asks again. "You're a ways from home, huh?"

I flash a look of confusion. The man slightly blushes and points at the tag on my suitcase labeled 'New York City'.

"Oh, right. Y-yeah, I'm, uh…moving in."

A look of shock appears on the man's face. "Moving? Here?" He laughs. "How do you go from the city to such a small rural place like this?"

"Small places have airports?" I ask.

He laughs again. "Fair point, fair point. What I mean is this place isn't nearly as hectic as the big city. It's odd to make such a huge change." He stops for a moment before reaching out his hand. "Charles Mink," he tells me.

"Tyson Rayne," I reply returning the handshake. Curiosity fuels my next question. "What about you? What're you here for?"

Charles immediately tenses up. "I-it's, u-um…well, top-secret." He looks at me and seems to be thinking. "Long story short, I travel for business a lot. This is my next station for the next couple of years."

I murmur an agreement and nod. Just then, a vibration goes off in my right pocket.

-Here. Blue van.-

I scan the area and find a navy blue minivan parked at the far side of the lane.

"Ride's here?" Charles asks.

"Yeah. I'm staying with my aunt."

"Ah, right, right." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small white card. "Hey, feel free to call sometime. Fellow city folk gotta stick together when out of their comfort zone, am I right?"

I smile and nod, putting his card into my back pocket, despite the sketchiness of the situation. The man sits back and stares at the passing cars as I head towards my aunt's van.

A tall and skinny but not exactly young woman exits the front door. Her brown hair is curled and she's wearing a bright blue dress and is boasting a tan. She extends her bony arms as she approaches me.

"Tyson!" she exclaims as she embraces me. I don't remember her all that well, but I return the gesture anyways.

"Hi, Aunt Joanne," I say as she releases me from her crushing grip.

"Aw, you sound exhausted," she states as she lets me go. She examines the silver watch on her wrist and smiles. "Well, it is six in the morning. Let's get you home and you can sleep." She yawns as we head for our car doors and I swear I hear her say, "Hell, I need some sleep of my own."

I throw myself into the passenger seat. The car's a nice model, and would seem new if it weren't for the musty unfamiliar smell, food crumbs forever pressed into the carpet, and the glove compartment overflowing with receipts.

"Sorry," Aunt Joanne apologizes. "I meant to clean out my car, but I just didn't have the time!"

I smile at her politeness.

So far, she's not a bitch. This could go in my favor.

"It's fine," I reply. "My room at home wasn't much better."

She chuckles at my response, then with sudden realization, says, "Oh, I almost forgot; all your stuff came in the mail yesterday. It's already in your room. I just didn't unpack it 'cause I didn't know how you wanted it…and because I didn't want to break anything."

I find myself smiling. She seems like a genuinely nice and energetic person. Big change from the person I used to live with. My aunt twists the dial on the radio, bringing up a morning talk show for us to listen to. I don't care much for these, but sometimes they can say some interesting things.

"-ever tried it."

"Seriously? Never?

"No, not once!"

"C'mon, Beth, everybody has had a lucid dream at some point in their lives."

One of the voices, the one protesting, laughs. A female.

"I never have!"

"Well, maybe you just don't remember!"

"Do you know when school starts up?" I ask my aunt.

"Two days," she says. "August 5th."

I breathe a heavy sigh. "Seriously? That soon?"

My aunt grins at me. "Hey, come on; don't see it as a bad thing! You'll be able to meet new friends sooner!"

…damn, she's right.

I've never been the best at making friends, but if I can get an early start to meet some new people, then hell, I'll take it.

"Well how do you do that?"

"I…think you have to eat cheese or something."

"Cheese…?"

"Yeah, cheese. Any kind of dairy, actually."

"Uh-huh. And that's it?"

"Well, no. You lie perfectly still on your back for 10 minutes. Th-that's what this webpage says, anyways. Sometimes it just happens, too."

With my forearm propping my head up, I continue staring out the window at the rolling scenery. We pass by trees, housing developments, eventually reaching what looks to be an outlet mall and a school across the street (of which my aunt points out to be my school), then more houses, some fields, and Aunt Joanne finally pulls into a neighborhood past the run-down part of town with a gas station and a tiny strip mall with family-owned shops and a cheap-looking movie theater.

"Haha, okay, sure. Keep telling yourself that. Anyways, now to turn you over to Kat Milton for your daily traffic repor-"

I snap out of my trance as the car's engine cuts. My aunt exits the door and grabs my suitcase, wheeling it into the opening garage. I groggily stumble out of the passenger side and throw open the door. Inside is, surprisingly, quite nice, with brown couches, granite countertops, a large-screen TV, and plenty of expensive-looking trinkets in shelves and cabinets.

Must've spent more time cleaning the house than the car.

"Where's the bathroom?"

My aunt closes and locks the garage door behind us and points towards the hallway past the living room. "First door on the left."

I thank her and head in. After relieving myself, I wash my hands and look at my face in the mirror.

I look like shit.

My short sandy brown hair's a greasy mess, I have huge bags under my eyes, and my slightly tanned face looks like it's hosting a war between small zits and long scraggly unshaved hairs. I sigh and dry my hands, but not before a ringing goes off in my mind. My hand instantaneously grabs my forehead.

(…ime…ken…ower…)

Wh-what th-the hell…?!

As fast as it came on, the pain subsides. I blink rapidly and shake my head violently.

I must be tired…yeah…jet lag, right? North Dakota's…I dunno, hour behind or something…

I drag myself out of the bathroom and back into the living room. To the left of the bathroom hallway is another hallway leading to the dining room in the front of the house, the front door, and a staircase leading upstairs. My aunt comes down the stairs and notices me.

"Your bed is already made," she says. "Go on up, get some rest. If you wake up before me, there's food and snacks in the pantry."

"Thanks…" I say as a limp up the stairs. The upstairs hallway has a bathroom of its own to the right, my room across the hall, and another two doors at the end of the hallway. I assume one's a linen closet and the other is Aunt Joanne's room.

I enter my room to find a bed with a dark wood frame and red sheets in the back right corner of the room facing the door. The wall looks unpainted, as if the previous occupant just didn't want it painted. I'm curious as to who used to live in here, but I push that question aside for later. I walk over to the two windows, passing taped-closed cardboard boxes stacked against the wall and closet door as well as my wood desk and an entertainment center with a cable box and small TV in corner opposite my bed, and lower the white blinds to blot out the approaching sun. I drop my backpack onto my bed and pull out my phone charger, plugging it in with a zrrt into the outlet closest to my bed. I pull the crushed pillow from my backpack and toss it onto my bed and my backpack across the room. Flopping onto the bed, I plummet into a deep, deep sleep.

I awake to complete and utter blackness.

Crap, did I go blind?!

With the cracking of bones, my weary neck lifts my face out of the embrace of my pillow.

Oh.

Bright sunlight filters through the blinds of my windows, and birds can be heard outside. I reach down for my phone to check the time – almost noon. With intense effort, I force myself out of my bed and onto my feet. I stretch my body, every bone making a loud crackling sound. Retrieving my body wash and shampoo from my suitcase, I grab a towel from the linen closet in the hallway and enter the bathroom for a shower.

Nearly a half hour later, I'm freshly washed, shaved, my teeth are brushed, my hair is combed, I'm dressed in my regular summer attire (that being a sleeveless blue- and black-striped shirt, navy blue cargo shorts, and a black rubber bracelet on my left hand), and a little acne cream is applied for good measure. When I re-enter my room, I toss my pajamas to the far end of the room, my pants making a clunk sound as they hit the wall.

…hmm?

I pick the pants back up, feeling through its pockets, finding not only Charles' business card, but the key Igor gave me. I sigh. I was still clinging onto the dim hope that I was simply exhausted from the flight and that I never actually met the man or got the key, but having it in my possession…it's too big a deal to ignore. Now that my mind is clear and awake, I have a slight tinge of panic.

If I have something that was given to me in my dream, then what does that mean? Am I supposed to listen to that guy? When will I see him again?

I take a deep breath. There's no use thinking about it. He said I'd go back at some point. I may as well wait until then.

As for Charles' business card, his name is printed in fine black letters as well as a cell number. There's a logo on the top right of the card for what I'd assume to be the company he works for, but I can't recall seeing it anywhere before. It looks like a mess of lines to me, so I give up and put the card in my wallet.

Using the Velvet Key as a razor, I begin slicing apart the tape on my boxes and arranging my stuff. I put my desk against the left wall across the room from my bed, and set up and plug in my desktop computer. A couple trinkets of mine go on the entertainment center around my TV, but the others will have to wait until I have shelves. A wooden dresser is in the opposite corner of my bed against the right wall, and I begin organizing my clothes inside it. Funny; most of my clothes all look exactly the same…never noticed that before. Once I'm satisfied with the layout of my room, I stuff unopened and half-emptied boxes into my closet and put the emptied ones into the hallway. It's now around one in the afternoon.

"I see you're all set up!"

I turn to see my aunt in the doorway. She's in jeans and a t-shirt now.

"Yeah," I reply. "Wanted to do something productive."

"I see," she says. "Do you want to go get some lunch? Get to know each other a little better?"

My stomach decides the answer for me. I grab my phone and wallet and we pile into the minivan. After a bit of driving, we arrive at the outlet mall across the street from the school. It's a relatively large complex, with tightly-packed stores arranged around the parking lot. There's a central plaza with benches, soft grass, and a running fountain. Plenty of teens my age are running around with their friends, trying to squeeze the last little drop of life from their summer vacation. My aunt finds a parking spot and we walk out into the pathway.

"So, what do you want to eat?" she asks.

I survey my surroundings. Most of the stores are ones for clothing, but some are for games, books, movies, and there's even a candy store, but among these are some small restaurants. We decide on a sub shop and begin walking towards it with a number of students passing us by. I'll be a junior this year so I'm scoping out people who are in my age group, only I can't seem to tell what anyone's ages are. Everyone looks about the same. I spot a group of loud girls laughing with each other, multiple guys roughhousing and swearing up a storm, and a light brown-haired boy with glasses in a gray t-shirt and khakis holding hands with a pretty girl in a stunning yellow dress.

We eventually reach the sub shop and are greeted by the workers behind the counter. A boy who looks to be my age with combed-down dark brown hair is grinning ear-to-ear at the cash register.

"Hey there, buddy! What can I get for ya?!" he proudly exclaims.

I scan the menu and pick out my order. My aunt does the same and pays for our food, and as we're heading to our table, the cashier calls out to me. I motion for my aunt to go ahead and find a table and begin making small talk with him.

"I haven't seen you around here before," he says. "You new here?"

"Yeah, I just moved in. Today, in fact."

"No kidding? Where from?"

"New York."

The guy laughs. "Seriously? Damn, that's a ways away."

"I don't mind. I never really liked the city. Too noisy, too many people. It really starts to stress you out after a while."

"Yeah, I get'cha," he says. "You going to school on Monday?"

"Should be, though I'm not all that excited about it."

The cashier frowns slightly. His dark brown eyes shift to the side. "Me either. School means I need to quit this job. I really like it here, but they're not keen on weekend workers for some reason." He returns his gaze to me and scoffs. "Not having money is gonna be a huge pain." His face goes back to a smile and he reaches out his hand. "Emile."

Funny name…

"Tyson," I respond, returning the handshake.

"Hey, maybe we'll have a class together!" he exclaims.

I'm about to respond, but suddenly the ringing in my head from last night returns. I can hear my heart pumping and my vision goes slightly hazy.

"…whoa, dude, you okay?" Emile must've noticed me spacing out and shows genuine concern.

I look back up at Emile and try to recompose myself. "Yeah, I'm-…"

(Magician.)

…huh?

I shake my head and I snap back into reality. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Jet lag's just getting to me."

Emile continues to look worried, but thankfully decides to take my word for it. "If you say so, man. Take it easy, alright? I'll probably see you Monday."

I nod in agreement. "Yeah. I'll keep an eye out for you. See ya."

I walk back to the table and sit across from my aunt. She's already got the subs and started eating hers. She hands me an empty cup; I get root beer from the soda fountain and return to my seat.

"So," my aunt asks. "What kind of stuff do you like to do outside of school?"

In-between bites I manage to get out an answer. "Some sports. Some video games. Writing. Used to play guitar, but I haven't practiced in a long time and I sold it a while ago. Kinda wish I hadn't, though."

"Oh," Aunt Joanne responds. "What kind of sports?"

"Used to be on the baseball team at my old school," I point out. "Wasn't the best at it, but I liked doing it."

"This school has a baseball team, too, and a lot of other sports and clubs, I hear. You should keep an eye out for registration."

"Yeah, probably,"

I look up at my aunt and she looks at me, seemingly triggering the ringing in my ears again, only this time, it's quieter and less staggering.

(Sun.)

My eyes dart around the room. "Who keeps-…?!"

"Who keeps what?" my aunt asks.

I snap back to attention, not wanting to worry her.

Am I going completely insane?!

"N-nothing. No big deal," I say, trying to comfort her worries. I continue eating my sub, avoiding the subject as best I can. Just like Emile, she still shows concern, but decides to drop it.

What're those voices? Where are they coming from? And what's "Magician" and "Sun" mean?

Too many unanswered questions are flinging through my brain. If I'm not going mad now, I'll definitely start to dip into insanity if I don't find out what all these sudden changes mean. The voices, the headaches, the-…

The key. Igor. If anyone can answer my questions, it's gotta be Igor. All of this started happening after he barged into my brain.

But how do I get back to the Velvet Room?

"Maybe we should get back home," my aunt says, derailing my train of thought.

"No, no, I…" I pause. Actually, she's right. I have a splitting headache and I'm still dizzy. "…yeah, okay. Let's go."

Both of us finish up our food and drinks and head out.

"Bye, Tyson! Nice meeting you!" I hear Emile say.

"You too," I reply as we head out the door.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine!"

I appreciate how she's worried about me, but my aunt grilling me is starting to get on my nerves. I'm not physically sick, but there's definitely something fishy going on in my head.

"Maybe you should go take a nap…"

Last time I did that, an old guy violated my mind.

"I'll be alright. I just need some Advil and some alone time."

Aunt Joanne reluctantly agrees to my request and fetches me two small red pills. I down them and retreat to my room, but not before thanking my aunt for lunch. I immediately switch my pants out for nylon workout shorts and flop onto my bed with my notebook and pen in hand. I return to this morning's entry and continue writing.

"Now I'm hearing things. When I look at people, voices start going off in my head, and I've been having extreme headaches. On the upside, I met someone today and my aunt is very kind to me. School starts in two days. Maybe I can get some answers before then."

I put the book and pen in my nightstand drawer and go back to staring at the ceiling. The medicine begins to kick in and my headache starts to subside. Now to solve the problem of finding the Velvet Room…

He said I'd decide to go next time. Maybe if I sleep I'll go back? …it's probably not that easy.

My mind is rife with questions that a day ago I would've found ridiculous. My thought process is, however, once again interrupted, this time by the doorbell. I hear the pounding of my aunt's footsteps downstairs as she answers the door.

"Oh, hello Maria!" I hear her say.

…a girl?

I can't hear any response, but my aunt's voice is perfectly audible, despite being muffled by the floor.

"Tyson! Come down here!"

Hoo boy.

I trudge down the steps to find my aunt talking to a cute girl in the doorway.

"Tyson, this is Maria Reynolds," my aunt says. "She lives just down the street."

Maria seems to instantly get nervous when she sees me coming down the stairs. Her face turns a new shade of pink.

"H-…h-hi…" she says. No wonder I couldn't hear her end of the conversation; her voice is really weak and quiet.

"Hey," I reply.

Maria's got deep blue-green eyes and her blonde hair is tied up in a braid that reaches the small of her back, yet a part of her bangs still sticks out and drapes over her forehead. She's wearing a light blue tank-top and short denim shorts. Her face seems very child-like, but in a relatively adorable way. In her arms is a plate wrapped in tin-foil.

"I-…um…h-here," she holds the plate out to me and I graciously take it. "They're brownies…I made them myself." She looks up at me and smiles shyly with her hands clasped down by her waist. Her stance seems very withdrawn and shy.

(High Priestess.)

Oh, give me a break already!

I take a peek at the brownies. Admittedly, they look and smell fantastic.

"Thanks, uh…Maria, right?" I ask. She nods her answer. This time, I'm the one to offer my hand. "Tyson."

She weakly returns the handshake, as if she wasn't expecting it. "I-it's nice to meet you…I hope you like it here." She flashes a smile, one that portrays genuine kindness and sincerity. She seems to be mustering up something to say, and eventually blurts it out. "My oldest brother is gonna drive me to school in the morning with my other brothers and I…w-would you like to carpool with us?"

I shoot a look at my aunt, asking for approval.

"I was actually going to ask you that," Aunt Joanne said. "I'm worried work will get in the way too much for me to take him. That would be very kind of you."

"Yeah, it would," I tell Maria. "Thank you."

She blushes even more and smiles brightly. "We'll get you at 7:00, okay?"

"Sounds good!" I exclaim. "I'll see you then?"

Maria nods. "Y-yeah. Goodbye!" she says as she turns to walk away, waving at my aunt and me.

"Bye," we say. "Thanks for the brownies!" I add, but she's already practically sprinting down the street.

Holy crap, her confidence was at an all-time low.

"She's a very sweet girl," Aunt Joanne says as I close the door. "She's really artsy, too."

"How old is she?" I ask out of curiosity.

"Fourteen, I think," she responds. "She'll be a freshman this year." My aunt laughs. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say she thinks you're cute!"

I blush slightly. "How do you know that?"

"She was talking to me just fine, and then locked up when she started talking to you!" She laughs again. "Though, she is naturally shy."

No shit.

"I'm just glad to be meeting people. I'm not thinking about dating anyone right now."

"I didn't say you had to ask her out!" Aunt Joanne says. "Besides, she might be a bit young for you."

And she can't talk to me without practically pissing herself.

A few more hours of alone time playing video games and cleaning up my room later, my aunt and I eat a hearty dinner of delivery pizza. She says she hasn't had time to go shopping, which makes me wonder what she does for her job. What could possibly take up so much time?

"I'm a nurse at the hospital on the edge of town," she informs me. "I get called in suddenly a lot."

I nod. That makes sense, and would also explain how she can afford all her stuff. The two of us make small talk while watching some crime dramas on the TV. This is apparently how she spends alone time of her own; watching TV and counting down the hours before she has to go work again. She never has to go in on Saturday, but will apparently be gone tomorrow afternoon. Guess that means I'll have the house to myself for a while.

The weight of the day begins to crash onto my shoulders like a waterfall. I say goodnight to my aunt and head back up to my room, throwing myself onto my bed without a second thought. The Velvet Key and my wallet are on the nightstand beside me as I slip out of consciousness.

{~}

New York City. Dead as night. Nobody is there. No cars, no people, no sounds, only minimal light. The skyscrapers, normally illuminated with bright lights, now tower above me like monsters. My footsteps feel light and alien as I trudge down the street, looking for answers. The moonlight casts eerie glows through the corners of the street. As I walk farther forward, a shape begins to appear in the darkness. The figure emerges. She's a woman, young but old at the same time. The woman seems familiar to me, as if I've known her all my life.

Because I have.

"Mom…?"

My footsteps become harder and more forceful against the tar of the road. I throw myself into a full-on sprint, but the road seems to be getting longer the farther I go. No matter what I do, I can't catch up to her. Deep down, I know why I'm trying to reach her. Tears start to well up with the knowledge that if I don't reach her, I won't be able to save her.

A screeching of tires echo through the hollow streets. My running becomes more frantic, my screaming of her name turning into inane wailing. I can see her face, full of pain and sadness, as if she's saying she's sorry.

I stop dead in my tracks and fall to my knees as a taxi cab comes hurtling down the street, slamming into the figure of my mother dead-on.

Upon impact, my body springs up out of bed. Not the bed in North Dakota, but the bed in my apartment in New York. Outside the window, multiple stories down, I can see the bustling midday city. Cars are honking at each other, people are screaming.

I hate it.

My door creaks and a voice calls out to me.

"Tyson?"

I can't believe my ears. I turn around to see my mother standing in my bedroom, her young beauty shining. I do what every young man's instinct would be upon seeing his mother after witnessing such a horrific event – I rush up to her and embrace her. Her arms wrap around me, pulling me in tight.

"I had such a bad nightmare…"

"Don't worry, honey. Stay with me, and you'll be alright."

Stay…stay with her…yeah, I can stay with her…

The ringing from before reappears, this time so strong the world around me vibrates.

(Stop. It's a trick.)

The voice is unfamiliar to me, but sounds so real I realize how hazy everything else has been. The honking of a horn down below snaps me out of it. I pull away from my mother, her look of worry and confusion causing my heart to churn in my chest. This is all wrong, but upsetting her feels awful at the same time. The conflicting emotions are making me want to throw up.

"Tyson…don't you want to stay with me? Where we'll be happy?"

…this isn't right.

I back away. The further I get, the smaller the room feels and the angrier my mother becomes.

"I said stay with me," she demands. "You'll stay, won't you?"

(Run. Now.)

But there's nowhere to-…

The window.

I can't believe this idea is sticking, but I step back closer to the window with my hand stretched in its direction.

"Stop!" my 'mother' commands.

In one quick motion, my window opens, my mother leaps for me, and I throw myself into the air, falling into the abyss. The street rushes up to greet me, but caves in and reveals inky blackness.

Thud

{~}

"G-gah!"

I snap up, sweating, breathing heavily.

A nightmare…it was just a nightmare…

I check my phone's clock after recomposing myself. One in the morning. I kick off my sheets and strip down to my boxers to cool off and I stare into the ceiling, ignoring the shapes of my furniture in the darkness of my room.

I don't sleep for the rest of the night.