It was the crack of dawn when I got up. I just couldn't sleep anymore, knowing that I was going to finally find out more about my boyfriend. Wow, that was weird to write, and much weirder to process. Still it had a nice aura to it, plus it sounded nice, 'boy-friend'. I told Dipper last night that Toby was going to tell us a bit about himself, and he was ecstatic. I don't think he realized that it was going to be a lot more personal than purely objective…I still had questions for him that I didn't ask yesterday. Like, what was that note that he received? That was kinda my only question, but using the plural is fun. I looked at the clock and it was only six o'clock and digging my head in the pillow didn't help. Plus, I usually am the first one to go to sleep, because if I were to wait for Dipper, I would have to endure his snores that were somehow worse than Waddles'…

I didn't have anything else to do, so I got up, got dressed and got on the roof, to watch the first glimmers of sunshine. I always loved seeing the sun rise and set. Those colors were my definition of beauty. As an aspiring artist, I had to have an etalon, right? The fiery depths of sunrays were what I considered the pinnacle of aesthetic, with the vivid red, mixing with the exuberant yellow, conflating into a plethora of nuances, ranging from the early crimson to the late gold…They exulted with warmth and basked us, puny mortals in their mighty power, filling our souls and hearts with the joy of life. I love contemplating nature…It's seldom I can do that back home, in a small town surrounded by a concrete jungle in California. It's rarer that I can also write down my thoughts. They usually lose themselves in the nebula which is my mind. Now, here I am, detailing it with words I didn't think I was capable of understanding, let alone use, two months ago. Now, in retrospect, this summer had been pretty amazing…I achieved my goal, of getting my one summer love, and apart from that, I managed to grow as a person in pursuing said goal. How quaint, that I had managed to develop in such a lovely manner, by just following the steps to success. However, I can't attribute all this to myself. I've had my fair share of help, from the two most important boys in my life…Dipper was the 'enabler' (I think that was the word), while Toby was pretty much the 'cause'…

By the way, I am writing all this on the spot, like, I am now on the roof, and this stupid wind keeps blowing in my pages, interrupting my reflection. Now, where was I before I got cut off by nature? Oh, yeah, I was about to write a paragraph about Toby, perhaps with no rhetoric interrogations to myself, which are pretty gratuitous. Now, I was hoping that I'd find someone that wouldn't be so…unusual. He had to stand out, but I was hoping he'd be something like an artist, more than a scientist. But, alas, I am happy with my choice. This guy…is a genius, and I don't use that word for many people. I mean, Dipper is a smart kid, a really smart one, for that matter, but he is fading in comparison with Toby. The guy, had a research lab in his house and a portal to other timelines…that he himself has made to work! At thirteen years old! If that is not the definition of heightened intellect, I don't see what is. And strangely enough, he didn't fit the pattern of socially unable geniuses. He wasn't the best, but clearly not awkward in many situations. Plus, if you can manage to catch the eye of a Northwest, you certainly have some skills. He was shy, or more accurate, preferred to be alone, rather than in a group, but, as every girl, I found that cute. Moving along in this psychological portrait, we have that amazing multiple personality disorder he had mentioned, to which, I, a person who has spent this summer writing my memories in a diary, was pretty oblivious. It was…something. It was…scary. Knowing that he could turn from the kindhearted Toby, I know and love to a cynical, emotionless machine is pretty much to take in at a time. I read Dipper's 'entry'. In that state, Toby was blunt, calculated, precise, lacking empathy to the extent, you couldn't differentiate him from a super-advanced robot. He also got a bit authoritarian, lacking those questions, he tends to ask:" You wanna do that?", and proved to be kinda annoying. I've never seen the brave part, and hopefully I won't because, frankly that's the one I would despise the most. I couldn't see him being nothing but a blood-crazed maniac who acts on impulse, rather than on rational thought…Since that was pretty much why I admired him, seeing him as nothing but an instinct-driven animal…I think that the only state, I liked him was in that hopeless romantic one…It doesn't help that the three others are bad, and only one is redeeming. However, there is something else I am interested in. If those are just split personalities of him, how was he as a whole? I liked the romantic Toby…but what if the real one wasn't what I actually wanted? What if I would be disappointed to see that who I've fallen in love with, wasn't actually who I thought…That sounds like an extremely obvious question, only that mine was, a bit more founded than those of 'regular' people…I couldn't like him just because of good looks, that, boy, did he have. I think that I might've painted his picture before, but nonetheless, I'll do it again. He was a bit taller than I was, a solid build, but not very muscular, an athletic body type, nimble, yet powerful. He was walking as if the ground beneath him was made of clouds, stepping light as a cat-burglar. I didn't see him fighting, but I guess he is pretty agile and fast, having fended that ghost for so long, as Dipper stated, while at the same time being able to think and act faster than a usual human… Now to what matters the most in a masterpiece…His face was clear, untainted by freckles and zits, as if he was wearing multiple layers of make-up. He was somewhat of a baby-face, but rather pale, missing that blush in his weak cheeks. He was pretty green around the gills, borderline sickly, always looking close to throw up. His lips were a faded pink, and his teeth were pearl-white, yet with the same worn out look as his mouth…He had the face of an old man in detail, but that of an infant in its entirety…He had a small nose, girlish, with a little curve at the tip…However, what saved this portrait seemingly made by blurry traces of paint, was his eyes…They were the most beautiful glimmering emeralds, I've ever seen in my short life. It's hard to describe their actual color…they were bright, but not quite catlike, but at the same time dark, but not that horrible seaweed…They reminded me of St. Patrick's Day, so I guess the best word to describe them is shamrock. Not the color was interesting, though. His irises were as if you were looking at a leaf through a microscope. So many fibers were seen, giving his eyes the feeling as if they were just vines crawling up a white tree. He had no veins surrounding them either…They were just an island of green in a sea of ivory. They were the first thing I noticed about him. And I couldn't help but lose myself in their infinity. His gaze was so powerful, it was like Toby was watching deep inside my soul, every time our eyes met. That was an interesting feeling, to say the least. Both exhilarating, yet somewhat overpowering and…terrifying.

I looked at the sky again, only to see that the sun wasn't anymore just being born from the horizon, but was now dominating it, being about halfway towards its peak. What time was it? Well, I think that the fact that I saw Toby entering the porch and heard his loud knocks on our old wooden door. It must be time for the talk…I decided it was about time to bid farewell to the lovely atmosphere and the feeling of being above the world and climb back down into the world below. Now I should close the diary…

Okay, I don't know why I brought this little book with me on my trip, but I am sure glad I did, otherwise I would've lost my mind…On the way down from the roof, I met up with Toby, who was somehow already in and ready to see us. He didn't look any different from what I've described him, although there was a little more color on his face. He didn't tell me anything, he just pointed towards my bedroom and I followed him in. Again…strangely enough Dipper was waiting in there…Who opened the door for him? That question soon evaporated, when Dipper broke the silence.

"So…what did you want to talk to us, Toby?"

"Well…I want to clarify a lot of things, about this town and about myself…to both of you. And, I can't think of a better way to break it to you, than with a simple question. Do you think that all these weird occurrences are the work of science or magic?"

That question was…mind-blowing. We had time travelers with amazing gizmos, enchanted crystals, game characters coming to life, yet gnomes, Bill Cipher and ghosts…What the heck was actually going on?

"It's…science, right? All of it." Dipper's answer was short but confident.

"True, there is no magic involved, but this comes down to what science you believe applies…"

"I don't get where you're aiming at," Dipper said in disbelief.

"Well, if you're thinking of solely physics, mathematics and chemistry, you'll be wrong…Bill is the main reason why, because he defies many laws of these aforementioned disciplines."

"Therefore, we must find our answers in…" my brother continued firmly believing in his theory.

"Philosophy…Before you flip," Toby cut Dipper short, while he was about to interrupt him," let me explain. I hope you're familiar with the balance and entropy theories, therefore it might not come as a shock that our universe tends to entropy, forever. However, balance is kept, somehow…Those beings that keep this balance are called 'Neutrals' due to their alignment. There are good and evil, but in-between there are these fellas. And these guys, are in turn split as well in lawful neutrals, true neutrals and chaotic neutrals…Bill is one of these beings, surreptitiously chosen to serve this purpose. However, his 'chaotic' nature has been what caused him to switch sides, from that who keeps the balance to that who destroys it. He became a lawful force of evil, with throwbacks to his former neutral allegiance…Now he is what he is…His powers are pretty straightforward. Teleportation, mind and body control, those are things achieved through science, albeit extremely advanced, to the point our puny intellects cannot comprehend it. We are like the cavemen who believed the fire was witchcraft…"

…That was baffling. Magic was the easy way out, in my opinion, but apparently it goes way deeper than that. Still, what bearing did it have on the situation at hand? Why was it so important that, right now he had to tell us this? I was confused…But intrigued nonetheless.

"So…what's the point of all this?" Dipper asked, sharing my idea exactly.

"Glad you asked, Dipper. I remember you having received a sort of suitcase-laptop, from a crazy old man, right?"

"Wh-What?!" Dipper asked slightly scared. "How did you know that? I didn't tell anyone, as he told me."

"Yeah, I don't know how to tell you, but that laptop, whose countdown is extremely important, was made by that same old man. In the prime of his youth, he was a genius, having contributed numerous entries in your journal. Not directly, though, he merely discovered them. But knowledge, drives one insane, should he not be prepared, or should it overbear its holder…But enough about that. I need to see that suitcase."

Dipper wasn't really sure about that. I will gloss over the fact that he kept a secret from me, whereas I was extremely open to him and just retell the events. He got up from his bed and pulled a rugged suitcase from under it. He opened its locks and then showed it to Toby, and his face changed instantly, from a warm, almost smug smile to pure and raw shock and despair. I wanted to see what prompted him to react in such a way. I couldn't see anything else but a series of numbers, a countdown, with presumably days to spare.

"Dipper…Did these numbers ever change, like hours draining down in the span of seconds?"

"Not really. Time passed as it should, with the slight exception when I believe it dropped a few minutes instantly…"

"What date is it?"

"The 20th of August, why?" I answered, finally bringing my contribution to the conversation.

"Uh-oh…"

As he finished that short interjection, a loud explosion was heard in the distance. Toby rushed to the window to see a short column of smoke, rising from the woods…from his home. He didn't say anything and sprinted down the stairs and into the forest. He left so suddenly, we didn't even notice he was gone, until he was already making his way down the path. Dipper looked at the laptop and experienced the same shock as Toby…This time, however, the numbers were dropping rapidly…and even I got a little worried. The clock stopped with only minutes to spare, thirty to be precise.

"Mabel, we gotta go see what caused the explosion, now!"

He didn't even wait for my consent, but he left, instantly darting out the door as he finished his sentence. I didn't have time to do anything, but somehow I grabbed my diary from the nightstand I left it on…

Having reached Toby's house, we were surprised to see the only smoke coming out to be from his chimney. It was the same hut I saw yesterday, nothing out of the ordinary. The door was wide open so we entered, and I showed Dipper the way to the secret room from the closet. Now here is where everything started going downhill…The second the wardrobe's door was opened, we were struck by a powerful gust of wind, and instantly after, the same malicious force had dragged us in, sealing our only way out in the process. After we recovered and dusted our clothes off, we both were amazed, for different reasons, though, to see that the portal was not only open, but electricity seemed to arc out of it. It wasn't just functional…it was also unstable. Toby was at the enormous keyboard, frantically looking through his diary, while the monitors were flickering with random numbers and symbols. Warnings were all over the place.

"What's going on?!" we both asked the stressed out kid who was struggling to grab a hold of the situation.

"Long story short, that wretched laptop should've shown the doomsday as being the 1st of September, not the 29th of August, and now we have to suffer the consequences of an altered timeline."

"ALTERED TIMELINE?!" we both yelled as a sudden alarm started ringing. Toby turned it off and answered, as the portal behind him started to act more erratic as time passed.

"The fact that Mabel got lost in another timeline, pretty much crashed our whole world, and now my portal is active, signaling that the end is closer than I would've imagined…I don't know how to tell you this, but should I not be able to fix the situation, this portal will turn into a time-space void, and it will end up completely merging our time with a parallel universe's, completely obliterating us in the process."

It was at that time, that I fell to the ground, actually I lay down on the ground, and started to wonder what the heck was going on. The boys were around me, moving around, struggling to keep it together. Toby was managing well, Dipper was more of a headless chicken. I pulled my sweater over my head, crawled in a corner and started crying…I didn't see much around me, I could only feel gusts of wind, coming to and from the portal, accentuating its hazardous behavior. I was trying to calm myself down, but I couldn't do it. I didn't think much of how I was going to die, but hopefully it wasn't going to be trapped in a hut killed by the randomness of the universe. I can't wrap my mind around how sudden this all was. One second resting comfortably at home, watching the sun shine, next up, I am trapped in the lair of a thirteen year old scientist… I was now gently rocking back and forth, trying to mimic that movement, that gentle motion that puts babies to sleep. I faintly heard Dipper asking: "What the heck is that?", to which Toby answered with the simplest: "I don't know."

Zaps of electricity grew in frequency, coming from the direction of the portal. The end was near…I was now clenching my arms in a self-hug, my entire life trying to flash before my eyes, being blocked, though, by fear. Suddenly, I could feel an arm on my shoulder, and a hand, dragging my over-extended collar so it was now resting under my nose.

"You, ok, kiddo?" Toby smiled as he was using his whispery voice. I couldn't do anything but cry and nod. That nod was both a yes and a no, and he caught on to that.

"Yeah, I feel you. I just finished running a script through the portal…It's pretty much the fail-safe. It either shuts everything down, or it collapses and well…the world is safe anyway. I find it funny that Bill has chosen this untimely date for our demise. He had to spark the portal when, I was away…he just had to, right?" he criticized that horrible being. I only now understood the depth of what was happening in this town. Such conniving forces plotting against something elevated from the plane of mere mortals. It was a true showdown of wits and wills between unknown good and evil representatives…

"Hey…wipe those tears off," I heard Toby as if I was dreaming. "It's gonna be alright," he smiled bitterly, not even him believing what he was saying. "That portal should be done any second now…Wonder what's taking…" A sudden burst of power interrupted him, and knocked all three of us in different corners of the room. That wasn't just a simple explosion…because an implosion followed. The portal began acting like an enormous vacuum. I managed to grab the leg of the desk, but Toby didn't need to do that. He could resist the tremendous force that was going to grab him in. But, soon after it overpowered him. He lost his balance and fell to the ground, hitting his head on a strange bump in the floor. Strangely enough, I didn't notice that bump before…Now, his unconscious body was slowly drifting towards the portal…Dipper rushed to help him, but another pulse knocked him back, again. And yet again, an explosion was followed by an implosion, this time with double the force…Toby was only a couple of feet from the gaping void that was about to suck him in…That portal was seemingly driven by gluttony, growing in power the closer he was to it…With a new surge of power, however, its greed peaked. Despite, my firm grip on the desk had caused it to break apart, and I flew in the air, alongside Dipper, who had experienced the same fate. In the span of half a minute, we had been oscillating between the portal and the extremities of the room it was in, only to be sucked inside it…

I think I might've passed out from the all the G forces (thanks Dipper for finally teaching me physics). I tried to take in my surroundings, but I couldn't see anything. Strangely enough, though, I could see my arms, but my hands were covered in shadows. I couldn't spot my feet in the darkness, but I saw my torso…It was as if my eyes were the light source, now. I yelled, but I didn't even hear myself. Now, I was left alone, in a ravished mental state, to explore an unknown world, where I couldn't even use my senses to guide myself…I fell to the ground, a wall seemingly spawning behind me to lean on, and started writing this…I've been waiting for what seemed like hours, although it probably was only minutes…Being trapped in nothing…must be the scariest experience you could go through. I can't get myself to write my thoughts anymore, because I feel like it might not be the best thing…to let them resonate. Best I experience them once, not twice, with a retrospect added to them…I'll end this page, now…Hopefully, I will be able to write again.

(If you're not interested in my opinion skip the paragraphs below and just read the next chapter)

As this story closes its near end, I would like to openly express my opinion on it, should that not be a bit…gratuitous to say the least (the story is riddled with slight fourth wall breaks that openly state my self-deprecating nature). Now, I am a pessimist and a perfectionist, therefore this will be a blatant self-critique, pointing out mostly flaws. I'll go with the saying "What's done cannot be undone" and just state what I've done wrong, without expressing how I could've avoided that. And it's all going to be in brief sentences. The action progression is with an uneven tempo, brisk and slow at the same time. Chapters have different points of focus. The character's opinion is stated sometimes from an inconspicuous perspective. Development is pretty forced. The characters are feeling conscious that they are at the whim of the screenwriter, and do not follow the theory of realism, that states that 'characters should be left to act at free will in the world they are a part of.' The descriptive passages are used as a mode to slow the tempo in an attempt to alleviate writer's block. There isn't a rigorously constructed intrigue.

Is it good that I wrote this paragraph? No. Should I have not said those things? Probably. But it's best to be self-conscious to the point where you get to this point, rather than take the path of arrogance. Self-critique is useful in self-development. To conclude this, I should point out some good things as well, I guess (because literary critiques usually do that, and I, as a self-appointed analyzer, should do it as well). The original character has some sort of originality to it, although seeming to be a romantic ideal. The non-canon events are mildly interesting. Descriptions are pretty redeeming, although abundant. The locations are greatly constructed. Symbols are used in a subtle manner. The theme of reflection is of philosophical nature…

That is all.