Wastelands

Being Robbie's accomplice for a day was a bad idea. He could not stop complaining on the way to his house. Now, he is finally shutting up. We arrive at his underground home, which I've only seen once by accident. It isn't as messy as I remember, but that orange chair sits smack dab in the middle of his inventing room. His costumes are lined up on display: One for Christmas, one for cowboys, one for ninjas, and so on.

"Alright, so I suppose I have to tell you what this contraption is now." Robbie says sheepishly.

I see the machine. It is large and takes up half of his right wall. The loose wires spark white and purple.

I give Robbie a confused look.

He tells me, "It's to give me good dreams. Don't laugh. I've had nightmare after nightmare about being chased by silly monsters and whatnot and I was sick of them. How amazing would it be to control what you dream of at the touch of a button? All I need is that central part so it can function properly. Last night I dreamt of marshmallows covering the city. The night before was tacos bursting into flames. This piece of shit won't work right."

I've never heard Robbie swear. It made him seem more human. I liked this frazzled side of him. Sportacus would die before dropping a curse word or showing a frustrated side. It made Robbie look cute.

"So, let's see. What if we disconnect a couple of wires so that the sparks-"

I collapse in pure light. My mouth is shut tight by force. Wind rattles around me and I am no longer in Robbie's room.

I am back in the torch-lit tunnels with a room of solace. The diary is in front of me again.

Nevermind worrying about Robbie and his invention, I tell myself. Now I'm here, in this mysterious land with a mysterious diary. There's no sense of freaking out now. I have to accept this crazy situation.

So, I turn to another page deeper in the journal.

Dear Diary,

Another day and no sign of her ghost. I've seen the Master, though. That's what he used to call himself. He is living in a hollowed elm tree not too far off. I guess the others got to him too. What can I say? He was asking for it. Telling me that she is not here and never will be again. I will find her . . . silky hair, ocean eyes . . . I need to be her savior. And that Rotten scoundrel can burn in that elm for all I care. I've . . . I've got to go. It's all his fault. I know it is. Stupid man.

Forever, Call me Hero

The desk chair is comfortable. I honestly could sit here and keep reading this diary. I suppose one more entry won't hurt. No one has found me yet.

Dear Diary,

I've seen terrible things in the wastelands. The others are turning against each other in search for food and shelter. Somehow, someway I have seen the Palace. From the highest hill at the edge of the forest, a golden speckle was in the distance. It reached the sky. Beautiful and full of- life. I hope to go one day. I will be their hero and our hero and save us all from this wretched place. But first, my girl is out there and I need to find her. If not then the Master might get to her first. If he does, we will be doomed forever.

My brain has been working hard. I must go and work on Phase I. Blueprints are in the desk. Have to bring them with me. Need parts. He is not the only inventor.

Forever, Hero.

"It's you." A soft voice comes from the shadows.

I look up. It can't be.