Chapter Two

The revelation begins

All was black, I wondered where I was. My face felt like it was resting on sharp gravel, I could feel the sharp pieces of rock digging into my skin. I opened my eyes, I wasn't in the classroom anymore, I was at the pit. The voice sliced out of the darkness again, mocking me.

I told me that I wasn't in the mood to listen to its nonsense talk, saying it was such ridiculousness that it hurt to listen to. The voice chuckled and then said this: "You wish to return to your life on the surface, very well I will oblige." Everything went dark again.

I was back in the classroom again, I grabbed my stuff and ran out. I got to my dad's car, he asked me how my day was, I told him, still knowing he wouldn't believe me. He never did. His explanation for things like this were daydreams, hallucinations, active imagination, and lies! Why would I lie? But there was no arguing with my dad. Not for the first time, I wondered if he actually did have answers to the weird things in my life. If he did, he gave no sign of it.

When I got home I went upstairs to my room. My tortoise raised her head and looked at me as I entered. I suppose I should tell you about her. I got her five months ago in late July. She's four years old. Her previous owner named her Penelope and I kept the name. As for biological data, she's a redfoot tortoise, weighs about 5 pounds, is about 7 inches long, and is 4 years of age.

"Oh Penelope, sometimes I just don't understand my dad" I told my tortoise. Well, I guess I should explain that too. I know full well that she can't understand me or respond, but despite that, it does still feel good to be able to have animal to talk to.

Penelope just looked and me and breathed. I thought about the encounter with Mr. Coal, the monster. If that arrow hadn't come when it did, I would've been dinner. Who fired the arrow. I don't know the answer to that. I just don't know. That night, I dreamed or at least that's what it seemed at first.

I was lying on something soft, there were woven walls around me. I knew what this was immediately. That recurring dream, again, I was frustrated with this. Like every other time, I felt weak, small, and helpless. Like always I was unable to move. The people were standing where they always did. The man with the scarred face, the shades over his eyes not keeping a dim fiery glow from showing through. Also, there was the trident wielding man, the man with the lightning bolt, the woman with the spear and the owl, and all the others I described earlier.

Frustration surged through me, why did this dream keep happening? Ok I want to dream something else for once! I thought. To my complete amazement the dream changed. I was standing on a stone driveway, to my right there was a red odyssey. The house closest to me was a red brick house. Something about it seemed familiar, the unmistakable feeling of déjà vu. Suddenly voices rose from inside.

"Why are moving to near Portland Oregon?" A boy's voice rang out. A chill raced down my spine, near Portland Oregon? That was where I lived! Then I my insides turned to ice at a new voice.

"The reason for that, Alexander, is because your father and I got a job there" a woman's, my mother's voice responded the boy's question.

I trembled with fear. ALEXANDER? that was my name! So why was that boy named...my thought trailed off as I realized what this meant. A memory! I was in one of my own memories, outside of my body no less, and that was disorienting to say the least. But which memory, was it important that I was seeing this? The door to the house opened and a small boy stepped out. My blood froze, it was me, I was looking at my younger self. A younger version of my sister, mom, and dad exited the house and loaded the car up with suitcases and other traveling stuff.

All of sudden I knew what memory this was. Moving to Oregon, however, as the car rolled away, the younger me turned his head back. He must have looked back at the house, but I could've sworn he was looking at a point beyond my shoulder. I slowly turned around and suddenly staggered backward, falling onto my tailbone. The gray eyed woman I'd seen innumerable times was standing there, I scrambled to my feet. The woman turned her head my way and looked right at me. Then the image dissolved and this part of the dream ended.

I was standing on bark mulch, in between a brown and green merry go round and a climbing dome. I gasped, there was younger me again. It was clearly my elementary school. Which memory is this? I thought to myself. Younger me's head suddenly turned and looked over the nearby field. Straight at the gray eyed woman. Then, poof, she just vanished. I remembered this now, I'd been playing like usual when I saw her out of the corner of my eye. I'd asked others near me if they could see her, they just looked where I pointed and said they couldn't. Then just like that, she was gone.

The image dissolved again and now I was standing in a classroom. This was my fourth grade teacher's room. Younger me was holding one of the class pet rats. I looked around, expecting to see the gray eyed woman, but there was no sign. That is until she suddenly appeared next me!

"Ahhhh!" I screamed and jumped a foot in the air, all from my shock. Suddenly my younger self's head snapped around and looked right in my direction. My younger self heard his future self!? I remembered this incident, as paradoxical as that was. At the time, I had thought it strange, but I'd shrugged it off.

Thoughts started pouring into my head. Why do I keep seeing myself in my memories, all in chronological order? Why do they all have that gray eyed woman?! I thought despairingly, then a new scary thought slid into my head. What's happening to me?

I told my dad about the memories the next morning. You won't believe what happened.

"Well, that would be because-" he started to say but broke off and then added "why do you keep asking me questions like that?" He yelled.

I was dumbfounded! What the heck just happened? He'd been about to say something but prevented himself from finishing. It had to be important, how could it not? This was a mystery that was buried very deeply.

But I just answered my dad's question, " the reason is because weird things keep happening to me, things that you refuse to acknowledge, things that you refuse to help me on!" With that I turned and ran upstairs to my room. My thoughts boiled. What was my dad hiding? It was obviously something. He'd been going to tell me an answer, but didn't carry it out. Instead he got pissed at me. Why? There could only be one reason, the secret he was keeping, it was massive, and, it had something to do with me. What was my dad hiding? what could be so secretive that it had to be hidden behind lies, deception, and anger?

For the first time ever, I began to resent my own father. I decided to ask my mother, but for some reason, she was nowhere to be found. All the cars were still here, and yet she and my sister I realized, were just gone. I was about to call this out to my father when my mom and sister walked out of their rooms. The hair on my neck pricked, that wasn't possible, I'd looked in those rooms for them only to see nothing. I couldn't possibly have missed them, so how did I not see them before now? I mean people don't just appear or disappear…right?