Ib felt her entire body go rigid, desperately screaming internally for a stop to the petrifying fear that was overtaking her. Breath locked into her lungs as she felt cold, frail hands push her with massive force sending her off her feet, hurtling towards the painting below her. Ib grimaced for the inevitable crashing of her face into the blank painting below her, but an even more sickly surprise awaited her as she realized that she had not hit the painting face first but rather seemed to land very softly at the top of a wide staircase. Ib pried her tightly shut eyes open. She sat in shock as she looked around her and knew quite clearly that she was no longer in the gallery, or at least, not the gallery she was familiar with. The crisp white walls of the gallery were gone, and she found herself in a very red corridor instead. After noticing that nothing on her body hurt or ached, she stood up and tried to gather herself and her new surroundings. The room was a dark, almost sinister red color and was oddly proportioned. She crept down the stairs to get a better look. However, she got an eerie feeling the moment she stepped off the stairs and turned back around quickly. The stairs had vanished. Two thoughts rushed through her at that moment; one of them being a very naughty swear, and the other wondering if she could have simply walked back up those stairs and out of this area. Neither thought was very helpful, so she decided to keep moving. The room was so strange, but Ib began to feel as though she maybe knew this place, but it didn't seem right to her. Maybe from a dream, but then why would she dream about such a place and then eventually end up there? Something was not right, and it went deeper than the blatantly haunted gallery she was now in.
The room was maybe a little more spacious than was comfortable, and yet she felt as if something was closing in. It was so silent that Ib thought she was now beginning to imagine noises, or perhaps they were real? She wasn't sure which of those possibilities might be more disturbing. Looking to her right Ib noticed a room jetting out from the wall of the corridor. Weird, she thought, she had never really known the museum to have separate, closed off room aside from a few offices and closets and the basement storage area. It piqued her interest greatly and went to open the door to the room. However, it was locked, so Ib looked around for a key. Walking away from the room, she noticed a little nook to her left with a set of two or three steps leading up to it. It led to a wall with a painting of a gorgeous, ethereal, yet empty blue vase. However, below the painting was an actual vase and within it, Ib saw the most beautiful, nearly otherworldly, deep red rose. As with most people, Ib was not in the business of taking things that weren't hers; however, this rose had almost a glow about it and it gripped her in a magnetic grasp until she finally found herself wrapping her hand around it and lifting it from its resting place. The moment the rose left the vase, Ib felt a sort of palpitation hit her squarely within her chest.
"Unh!" she left out softly. She looked around. Nothing. She suddenly grew very anxious about having the rose in her possession and felt as though she could never put it down again. She placed it gingerly into her bookbag- into a special little side compartment where it would be safe. She began to walk away when she felt her foot hit something small and hard. She looked down and noticed a red key beside her. She was very certain this had not been there before but disregarded the logical voice in her head and grabbed it.
"I should be terrified by all this right?" Ib said out loud to herself. "Any logical, normal person would be. So why aren't I?" The only thing that answered her was pure, unsettling silence. Ib made her way to the door of the room and stuck the key in the lock. A loud clicking sound rang throughout the area, and as Ib opened the door, an even louder sound that accompanied the door opening rang throughout. Ib entered the mysterious room and much to her disappointment, she found nothing of interest. There was a display of some weird sculpture and a portrait of a beautiful woman dressed in blue hanging on the wall, but not much else. Suddenly, as Ib was about to make her way out, she slightly tripped over her own feet. She looked around frantically, for she thought she has seen another rose below her and tried to avoid crushing it under her feet. However, when she looked back down, there was nothing there. She could feel her mind beginning to reel. What was real here and what wasn't? Was it this place or was it all in her head? What even was this place? Just as she was beginning to think that she might not be able to trust her own mind, she heard footsteps coming from outside of the room. Oddly enough, there was a window in the room, and Ib could hear the footsteps approaching, about to come upon the window. She felt panic once again begin to seep into her. She looked around for a place to hide but could find nowhere. She placed herself as flat as she could against the door and held the knob. The steps moved closer. Closer. She held her breath as she heard the steps approach the window, and to her dismay, stop right in front of it. Silence was disrupted by the pounding within Ib's chest, but she soon realized it wasn't the pounding of fear anymore but rather anticipation quickly turning into excitement. All at once, a powerful feeling washed over- a feeling that screamed at her to leave the room at once. "Leave now!" a voice in her head told her, "Or you will miss your chance!" What? Ib thought to herself. But by this point the feeling took charge of her limbs, and she found herself moving swiftly to unlock the door and bolt out of the room. She ran out the door in pure anticipation, and she was not disappointed.
Ib looked around and found a young man, maybe 19 or 20 years old, looking around the corridor with confusion evident on his face. He turned towards her the instant she stepped out of the room, and in an instant, tears began to pour uncontrollably from Ib's deep red-irised eyes. Purple hair, a blue tattered coat, a green long-sleeved shirt, brown pants, and dark brown loafers-the image filled Ib's vision, and she wished that none of it would ever leave. Under the mass of messy lavender hair, strangely dull but deep blue eyes looked back at her.
"G-Garry?!" Ib shouted at the poor, unassuming man. She rushed over to him but then stopped suddenly, all at once not sure what to do or why she felt the way she did. True, her dreams had been haunted by this man for over a decade, but she never knew why or where her feelings for him, which were deep and a bit frightening to her, came from. The man looked equally confused.
"Hello, miss. Are you lost? Can I help you with something?" he said politely, if not a little coldly. Ib's heart fluttered at the sound of his voice. It felt familiar and safe. She wanted to wrap herself up in it.
"Garry? Y-you don't know me?" she found herself asking, hurt in her voice. He looked at her in earnest as well as confusion.
"Garry?" he echoed. "That's my name..." he trailed off. It was almost a question. Ib looked around at nothing.
"Do you not know your name?" she asked. Is that even his name? she thought to herself. It had to be. It had echoed in her head for years, and it was also on the plaque underneath his portrait in the gallery.
"No." he answered slowly. "No- Yes! I'm Garry. It's just-it's been a while since I've heard it. I think..." he said almost to himself.
"You have to know me...right?" Ib asked quietly because she wasn't even sure herself. The man looked at her, studying her face. Oddly enough, it was strange to Ib that he was looking at her face to face. She felt as though she had imagined him much taller this entire time. But that couldn't be right either. What could she believe or trust here? As she wondered this, his deep blue eyes began to stare directly into hers now.
"Your eyes." he muttered. Ib felt her cheeks grow hot. He moved in closer to her, but Ib suddenly felt shy and uncertain of herself, and quickly stepped back causing her bookbag to fall off her shoulder. The bag fell and the rose she had just picked up tumbled out gently. Ib felt panic grasp and release her all at once. As she reached down quickly to grab it, the man had somehow moved faster and went to pick it up and give it to her. The instant the man touched his fingertips to the petals of the rose, Ib felt an electrical charge rush through her body which nearly knocked her off her feet, and she wasn't the only one. The man was instantly sent reeling backwards and fell onto his back, unresponsive. Ib could hardly react, as she grabbed her head and fell to her knees.
"AAAAAAHHHH!" she yelled. Her head throbbed as pictures rushed through it. She could see herself, but younger, much younger. She was with someone. Purple hair...Garry! He looked exactly as he did now, and oddly enough, she was dressed in something similar to what she was wearing now as well. She saw herself giving him a blue rose. She saw herself exploring a place that looked similar to where she was now. She saw herself running from something with Garry by her side, holding her hand. She could feel a bond being explained and reconstructed through memory. As quickly as it began, it was gone, and Ib was able to compose herself. She looked up and noticed the man, Garry, still on the ground. She rushed to his side and began to shake him.
"Garry?! Are you okay?" she asked a bit frantically. His eyes opened slowly, and as they did, they looked directly into hers. His pupils seemed to dilate and light now seemed to enter his eyes.
"Ib?" he said as though he had said it a thousand times.