I glanced at the clock radio just as the digits ticked over from 2:29 to 2:30 a.m. I knew I should probably get back to sleep, but I was far too awake and alert right now for that — I was in full-on “fight or flight” mode, and lying down while I was in this state would doubtless just lead to a panic attack and a completely sleepless night. Best that I tried to calm myself down rather than making things difficult for myself.

Suddenly, a piercing sound from the other side of the room. It took me a moment to identify it as the ringtone of my phone which, as usual, I’d put out of reach so I’d have to get up and turn it off in the morning. I jumped to my feet and dove for the phone. The sound was shattering the silence of my room, just as I was getting used to it, and I wanted it to go away.

I didn’t recognise the number that was coming up on the screen. I didn’t want to answer, but I figured if someone was calling at this hour it was probably important. So, with some trepidation, I tapped the option on the screen to answer the call.

“Hello?” I said in a cracked voice.

“I’m sorry to disturb you so late,” came a voice on the other end of the phone. I didn’t recognise it. It was speaking urgently. “But I’m afraid I have something that you need to hear right now.”

My pulse quickened further. I could feel my chest pounding.

“What is it?” I said breathlessly. I felt like I had just run a marathon.

“There’s been an accident,” said the voice. “Involving your family. We need you to–”

*

I woke up suddenly, sweating profusely. It wasn’t the first time I’d remembered that time in my dreams, but this felt by far the most vivid. It felt like I was there again, experiencing those terrible feelings once more. But as always happened, I woke up before the conclusion. The memories of what happened after the part I had just dreamed were vague and fuzzy; why couldn’t I remember them clearly?

I sat up and threw the covers off me. I was feeling hot, and my body was covered with sweat. I glanced at the clock radio and was not surprised to see that it was, of course, 2:30 in the morning.

Alice was already here now, though, so I didn’t need to creep into her room or do anything weird with… “gates” or anything like that. Right?

I felt uneasy. Something didn’t feel quite right.

I got up.

It was too quiet. This really didn’t feel right. I walked out into the hallway and headed for Alice’s room — she’d taken up residence in there, for now, as it made sense. I had no idea where Aril was sleeping, or even if he needed sleep, and I didn’t ask.

I put my hand on the doorknob and paused for a moment. I felt uneasy. I shook it off, turned the knob and opened the door. I looked in.

The bed was empty.

My blood ran cold. I froze on the spot. My heart felt like it had stopped.

I don’t know how long I stood there, staring at the empty, made-up bed. But it must have been a while.

What had happened? Had she been… taken back? Had she–

“What are you doing?” came a voice behind me. I let out a shout and fell to my knees. “Jesus! What’s the matter?”

“I thought you’d gone,” I whispered breathlessly. “I really thought you’d gone. That you’d been taken from me. That you were gone.”

I could barely breathe. My heart was beating fast. I was in a panic.

I felt Alice’s hand on my shoulder.

“Relax. It’s okay. I’m here.”

I closed my eyes and tried to calm down. I felt her hand squeeze my shoulder, and I heard her kneel down behind me. I felt her arms wrap around my neck from behind, and her head rest on my shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she said again. “Breathe.”

*

I don’t remember going back to bed, but when I woke up, the sunlight was coming in through the window. I heard a gentle tapping on my door, and knew it was Alice.

“Hey,” she said. “You awake?”

“Yeah,” I grunted. I sat up. I could smell myself; the stale stench of sweat. It wasn’t pleasant.

“I’m going to make some breakfast,” she said. “You want some?”

“Sure,” I said.

I heard her footsteps walk away. I got up and went into the bathroom for a shower. I felt somewhat refreshed when I stepped out, and by the time I’d pulled some clothes on I could smell the waft of bacon coming up the stairs. I followed it to discover Alice waiting for me with a bacon sandwich for each of us. I gratefully received it, and ate it in just a few bites. It was delicious.

“Thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “You better hurry, or you’ll be late. I’ll be all right here. Aril should be back soon.”

I looked up at the clock. She was right. I said my goodbyes and headed out the door.

*

When I arrived at college, I found Laura waiting for me.

“So,” she said, a grim look on her face. “You want to let me in on what’s going on?”

“I’m not sure what there is to say,” I said. “You obviously know that Alice is here, and…” I trailed off.

“What about the club?” she said. “What did you write for them?”

“Just… a piece of creative writing,” I said. “Nothing special. They said they’d publish it.”

She was making me feel uneasy. I couldn’t quite pin down why. When had my feelings toward her changed so much?

And when had her feelings changed?

She was looking at me with a sour expression, and it wasn’t the usual one she used to mock me. She looked genuinely annoyed. I felt a bit guilty.

“Hey,” I said, trying to soften my tone and stop this turning into a confrontation. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit weird recently. It’s just… you know. Been a lot to deal with.”

Her mouth was still turned down, but her eyes seemed to soften a bit. She sighed.

“Oh, it’s all right,” she said. “Just don’t leave me out of the loop, you know? I worry about you. And… do you remember what I told you?”

I felt further pangs of guilt. I’d been leaving her by herself, after she’d opened her heart and told me she felt lonely.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“All right,” she said, smiling for the first time. “Let’s do something, then. Come on, we’ll blow off classes today and go do something fun.”

I hesitated. We were already here. Surely someone had seen us? I looked around. No-one seemed to be paying any attention to either one of us. The invisible twosome.

Laura looked at me expectantly.

“All right,” I said. “What do you want to do?”

“Well,” she said, “let’s make it like a date, huh? How about we go catch a movie, grab some food, maybe do something else fun? My treat.”

She seemed eager. Something made me feel a little uneasy about her eagerness, but my guilt overrode those feelings and made me go along with her. I found myself nodding enthusiastically before I was sure what I was doing.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me along. We hastily left the building, got into her car and headed for town.

The first stop was the cinema. I didn’t recognise any of the films that were on, so I let Laura pick. Before long, we were sitting in the dark next to each other, with a big tub of popcorn and a large drink between us. We were the only ones in there. Laura started stuffing kernels of popcorn into her mouth one after another like an assembly line. I took one and chewed on it for a little while as I watched the adverts go around and around.

Eventually, the lights dimmed completely, and the trailers started. I remembered why I didn’t pay much attention to movies, even despite the fact we’d only been to one recently. All of them seemed so loud, so in your face, so… chaotic. That was part of the thing with trailers, of course. They had to make the movies they were for seem exciting. They had to–

Suddenly my view was blocked by Laura’s face, and I became aware that she was straddling me. I felt strange, and afraid. I still remembered the last time something had seemingly happened with Laura, and how she had reacted when I had said something about it.

“Come on,” she whispered to me. “I know you’ve been thinking about it.”

I looked at her. I knew that the fear was probably showing in my eyes.

“I know I was a bit weird when you had that… fantasy, delusion, whatever it was,” she said, leaning forward and kissing me on the side of my neck. It felt like electricity was shooting through my veins. “But, you know, I’ve been thinking about it, and… well…”

She shifted her body weight forward and started to grind herself against me. It was incredibly erotic, but I was still rooted to the spot. The only part of me that was moving was–

“Gosh,” she said, reaching her hand forward and touching it. “You have been thinking about it. Dirty boy.”

She moved again, and it started to feel good, but I still felt uncomfortable. What was I supposed to do here? I sort of wanted to do things back to her, but at the same time, I was afraid the same thing as last time would happen.

“Come on,” she whispered at me, leaning in and nibbling on my earlobe. “Come on. Come on.”

I blacked out. Or at least, I stopped being aware of everything around me. I couldn’t see the screen, I couldn’t hear the sound, I couldn’t see Laura in front of me, close enough to kiss.

I wasn’t aware of my own body.

I’d been here before. Complete darkness. The total absence of anything. Where was this? Was it anywhere? Had I passed through a “gate” without realising it? No, it couldn’t be that; passing into that strange darkness last time had needed Aril’s help.

I was all alone. I tried to move, but the total absence of anything around me — even light or air — made it difficult to judge whether or not I was actually doing anything.

I found myself missing them. All of them.

I missed Alice’s confidence, ability to make things seem simple, and assertiveness.

I missed Aril’s calmness and rationality.

And I missed Laura’s loyalty, unpredictability and sense of… chaos.

Chaos?

No, it couldn’t be. Laura was…

I found myself trying to remember again. Where had Laura come from? Why were we friends? How had we met?

The thoughts flitted away from me as I tried to grasp onto them, and I became aware of a presence. A horrible, menacing presence that made what I assumed was still my skin crawl. A feeling of darkness, a feeling that anything could happen at any time, a feeling of…

Yes. Chaos.

“I see you’re beginning to understand,” came a booming voice that seemed to reverberate through my entire skull.

“Yes,” I said, picturing how Alice would respond to this situation. “I am starting to see the truth.”

“Then you probably want this to end,” said the voice. It sounded amused.

I pictured Aril’s face and responded calmly and rationally. “It will end when the time is right,” I said. “And the time isn’t right yet. Not all the pieces are in place.”

“Very good!” said the voice with a somewhat condescending tone. “The time is drawing near. You know this, of course. You will have a choice to make. And you will have to–”

Laura’s face flashed into my mind, and I suddenly leapt with cat-like agility at where I thought the voice was coming from, my fist outstretched. I didn’t feel it hit anything, but I knew that it had passed through… something.

The voice chuckled.

“Yes,” it said. “Yes! This is good.”

The world suddenly came back into focus, and I was sitting on the side of my bed, awake and fully dressed.

What had just happened?

We spent most of the walk home in silence. Alice held on to my hand for most of it. I felt a little self-conscious at first, but after a while it just felt comforting to have her there. It was a little chilly out, but I felt warmth through her hand, both physically and from her affection. It felt nice.

I found myself wondering if she’d be able to stay. My thoughts once again strayed to the unwelcome fact that she didn’t belong in this world. “My” Alice was gone now. Could she really be replaced by this… alternative version? She was exactly the same in almost every respect — the only difference was in what she had lived through. It must have been horrifying.

And yet there was something different. I don’t think I had ever felt so close to my sister. We were siblings and we loved each other, sure, but more often than not in the past I’d kept myself to myself and she’d gone on with her own life. She’d always been the social, outgoing one; I’d always been the awkward loser spending most of his time in his room. We’d had our disagreements and fights, too; there were times when she got frustrated with me and the way I was, I think, and just took out that frustration on me by hurling insults she didn’t really mean. I never responded. Whatever she said, I never felt like I could say a harsh word to her.

Now, it was different. She was still the feisty Alice I knew, but there was more obvious warmth, affection and love in the way she treated me. Was this the result of her loneliness? Of the horrors she’d been through? Or was it me who’d changed? Was I the one who was coming to understand her a little better, and she was just starting to respond to me in a different way accordingly?

I wasn’t sure just yet. But I felt like I was creeping ever-closer to an answer.

There were still other questions to resolve, too, not least of which was this mysterious “chaos” thing that was there as a constant, menacing backdrop to our time together. Every time I looked at Alice, I became aware that there was a reason she was here, and it wasn’t a happy one.

It didn’t help that I still had no idea what I was supposed to do. How do you deal with something that is pure chaos? How do you deal with something that is clearly capable of devastating atrocities? How do you deal with something that can mess with your mind so thoroughly, even when it’s not at its full strength?

Alongside that, there was my relationship with Laura. I wasn’t sure where I stood any more. I felt like I’d been pushing her away a bit since Alice had come to this world. But oddly I didn’t feel too bad about it, even despite what she’d told me about being alone. I thought I should feel guilt, but I didn’t. She was slipping away, and I knew it, and I felt nothing.

I thought back over our time together, and something occurred to me: I had no idea how we had met, or when.

It hadn’t struck me as particularly odd up until now. But today the thought refused to be ignored. I couldn’t remember how or where I had met Laura, and the more I thought about it, the less it seemed to make sense.

She was a pretty, confident, nice girl who by all rights should have been surrounded by friends and admirers. And she chose to spend her time with me. Why would she do that? Why would she settle for me, as awkward and messed up as I am, when it’s clear that she could do so much better? Why didn’t she have any other friends? And why couldn’t I remember where she had come from?

“Ow,” said Alice. I became aware that I had been squeezing her hand rather tighter than I had meant to.

“Sorry,” I said. She didn’t let go.

We continued to walk in silence.

I tried to put thoughts of Laura out of my mind. She wasn’t important right now. The only person who mattered was Alice. She was here with me now, and she was helping me. I didn’t want to feel too much like I was relying on her — I was starting to think that was a problem both Laura and I were having with each other — but I was glad to have her around. And I hoped she felt the same way. She certainly didn’t seem to have a problem with being here. I suppose that anything must be better than being stuck in the only remaining hint of civilisation in an otherwise-devastated world.

“What’s it like?” I said out loud suddenly, before I realised what I was asking.

“What?” she said, looking up at me.

“Your world,” I said. The words were just coming out. I didn’t want to upset her, but at the same time I wanted to know.

“Oh,” she said. She turned away and looked a little sad for a moment. Then she looked back at me with a surprisingly bright face. “It’s actually not as bad as you might think. I know I’ve complained and cried and whatnot when you showed up, but that was more out of shock than anything. It feels weird to say this, but it’s not so bad.”

“Really?” I asked. Her response surprised me. I considered how I would feel if I was in her situation, and realised that it was entirely possible that I wouldn’t survive it. I shivered slightly.

“Yes,” she said. “I mean, yes, it’s desperately lonely and I do hate not having anyone to talk to. I much prefer it here, where I can talk to you and Aril and anyone else I see whenever I want, but you know, being all alone doesn’t have to be awful.”

“No?” I asked. I was genuinely interested in what she had to say. It sounded like the worst thing possible to me.

“No,” she said. “It’s nice to be, I don’t know, free. Oh, God, that sounds awful. I didn’t mean to say that I’m glad everyone’s gone. But, you know, it’s really nice to know that you’re not being judged or pressured to do stuff. I can just be who I want to be without having to worry about anything like that.”

“Huh,” I said. I hadn’t thought of it that way. And it was true — loneliness was a terrible, awful feeling that I had experienced, though not on the same level as Alice clearly had, but being by yourself didn’t have to be a terrible thing. Even when you’re surrounded by people, you can feel lonely. You can feel their eyes on you, sizing you up, trying to work out what sort of person you are. And I’d do the same, wondering what the best way to approach that person and strike up a conversation with them would be.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to people or make new friends. It was that I couldn’t. I’d feel completely crippled by this sense of self-doubt and believe that the person I was looking at wouldn’t want to speak to me, ever, and thus I’d just sit there and not talk to anyone. It’s why I stopped going to college parties. I tried going to a few but after a while it just got more depressing to watch all the people who could do it having fun in front of me, as if they were mocking me. Rationally, I knew that they weren’t, of course — they were just being themselves — but it still stung all the same.

“Look,” said Alice seriously. “I know you’re hurting. I know it’s been that way for a while. And I know that, if your Alice is anything like me, I probably haven’t helped much in the past either. But I also know that you’re strong. You may feel battered and beaten and broken, but you’re still standing. You’re still here. You’re still going. You’re always pushing forwards. You’re always trying to make it better, whether or not you realise it.”

It was the most mature thing I think I’d ever heard come out of her mouth, and again it surprised me a little. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to it, so I just squeezed her hand affectionately and we continued to walk.

“Thanks,” I said a few minutes later.

“Uh?” she said.

“You’re right,” I said. “I look at you, who has been through something infinitely worse than anything I can possibly imagine, and then I look at me, who has his own stuff to deal with, sure, but nothing on that scale. If you can stay standing after what you’ve been through, then surely I can, too.”

“That’s the spirit,” she said, smiling broadly at me. “Now how about we stop at the shop on the way home? I want chocolate.”

We took a detour to the little corner shop that was a few blocks away from my house and bought Alice some chocolate. I bought myself an energy drink in an attempt to wake myself up a little bit. It didn’t feel like it was helping, but I gulped it down anyway.

“Those things’ll kill you,” said Alice, munching on her chocolate bar. “Some chemical they used to use on soldiers in Vietnam or something.”

“Bollocks,” I said, laughing.

“It’s true!” said Alice. “I remember reading it online before ‘online’ didn’t exist any more.”

“Oh, and you believe everything you read online, do you?” I asked. It momentarily occurred to me that Alice might have come from a dimension where you could trust everything you read online, but that just seemed too ridiculous a prospect to even contemplate.

“No,” she said, giggling.

This was nice. It was like old times, only better. I loved her. I didn’t want her to go away again. I wanted my life to carry on almost as it was now, though I could live without that constant slight feeling of lingering malice in the background.

She’d told me several times now that we were going to get through this whole situation, and that everything would be all right.

Finally, I was starting to believe her.

I recounted everything I knew to Laura as she sipped the tea I’d made her. Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t say anything. I didn’t know if this was because she wanted to let me finish, or because she simply had no response to the bizarre-sounding story I was telling her. Either way, I kept talking.

As I continued explaining all the strange happenings in as much detail as I can, it felt like someone had opened a valve in my mind, and the pressure was gradually releasing. All of these pent-up emotions, worries, anxieties and feelings — all of them were coming out now, and Laura was just listening as I let them out without any sense of shame. I was long past that. Keeping quiet wasn’t helping me, and I needed help.

I smiled to myself at that thought. Just a few days ago I’d been so resistant to the idea of asking for help or talking about this, but now I was speaking freely like this — speaking about things that would probably get me committed to a mental institute if I were talking to anyone but Laura.

I wrapped up with the details of my last conversation with Alice, and how she had told me that she was all alone in her world, all by herself. I stopped and waited.

There was silence for a moment. Laura gazed at me, then took a sip of her tea with a soft “slurp” sound. Then she put the cup down on the coffee table next to the chair she was sitting in.

“Here’s one part that doesn’t make sense,” she said, frowning. “You said that the first time you went into Alice’s room, she sounded like she thought you were someone else, like she wasn’t surprised to see someone else coming in.”

I nibbled on the tip of my finger. I had said that. How did I not notice this before? That was a clear inconsistency in Alice’s story. The first time I went into her world, she’d asked me what I was doing, asked me what time it was. She didn’t know it was me when she said those words, so who was she talking to? If everyone else in her world was gone, as she’d said, then surely she wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. So who was she expecting to come into her room that night?

There were several possible explanations, and I didn’t know how likely any of them were. The first was that she was simply sleepy and disoriented when she woke up and spoke without thinking, but this didn’t seem plausible. Surely even in a bleary-eyed state, she’d know that no-one was around to hear her words.

The second was that she was talking to herself. This seemed equally unlikely, as she’d asked me directly what I was doing, even though she didn’t know who it was that had come into her room. So that one was out of the window.

The third was that there was actually someone else in her world and that she had lied to me. As much as I didn’t want to think about it, this was probably the most plausible explanation. She didn’t sound surprised to hear someone coming into her room in the middle of the night, but she froze solid when she discovered it was me. Perhaps she was expecting my… her… our parents or something.

The fourth and final possibility, so far as I could make out, was that there was someone else out there in a similar situation to me — another “visitor,” as it were — who had been paying her occasional visits before my first appearance. I didn’t know how likely this was, as I wasn’t any closer to figuring out exactly why I was able to visit her in the first place, so I had no idea if anyone else would be able to do it.

I explained my thoughts on these four possibilities to Laura, who looked deep in thought for a moment, and took another swig of tea.

“Hmm,” she said. I was impressed how unfazed by all of this she seemed to be. I’d said some pretty outlandish things, but it didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. For some reason, it made me slightly anxious.

“Hmm?” I said.

“Yes, hmm,” she said, setting the teacup down again. “I don’t think we have enough information to go on just yet. The only real thing we seem to know about when you can… cross over, or whatever it is you’re doing… is that it happens at, what, around 2:30?”

“Yeah,” I said. But that didn’t explain the few exceptions to that rule — the bathroom in college, and that time Alice had come into my room just after the sun had set one day. I said as much.

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Let’s focus on the 2:30 thing for the moment, then we can think about the others. Does the time 2:30 have some sort of… meaning?”

I racked my brains, trying to think if there was anything relevant that might explain it. 2:30. 2:30 in the morning. Half-past two. What was–

“Holy fuck,” I said, more to myself than to Laura.

“What is it?” she asked eagerly. “Did you think of something?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I did.”

*

My eyes snapped open. I’d been having a nightmare. It was one of those ill-defined nightmares that was just born from depression and anxiety, not anything specific. There was no sense of narrative to it, no purpose, not even anything I’d be able to talk about. It was just the emotion of fear, running away from something terrible that was coming for me. I didn’t know what it was or why it was after me, but I knew I needed to be as far away from it as possible.

My body was drenched with sweat, and my pulse was racing. It felt as if I really had been exerting myself; fleeing in terror from whatever terrible fate was pursuing me. I was short of breath; I gasped and tried to calm down, but I couldn’t. I was on edge. I felt scared and worried. I couldn’t explain why. I just had a terrible feeling, and it wouldn’t go away.

I sat up unsteadily and leaned back against the wall. The room was dark, as usual, the only illumination coming from the glowing digits of the battered old clock radio. They gave off a cold, green light, but I found the sight of them to be oddly comforting — a pleasing constant in my life.

I didn’t have a bad life, really, but it wasn’t particularly good either. I was doing well at my new college, though I was having trouble making friends and felt a bit lonely. I felt anxious about my future, though. I wanted to do the very best I possibly could, and I was never sure if what I was doing was good enough. Was I trying hard enough?

I glanced at the clock radio just as the digits ticked over from 2:29 to 2:30 a.m. I knew I should probably get back to sleep, but I was far too awake and alert right now for that — I was in full-on “fight or flight” mode, and lying down while I was in this state would doubtless just lead to a panic attack and a completely sleepless night. Best that I tried to calm myself down rather than making things difficult for myself.

Suddenly, a piercing sound from the other side of the room. It took me a moment to identify it as the ringtone of my phone which, as usual, I’d put out of reach so I’d have to get up and turn it off in the morning. I jumped to my feet and dove for the phone. The sound was shattering the silence of my room, just as I was getting used to it, and I wanted it to go away.

I didn’t recognise the number that was coming up on the screen. I didn’t want to answer, but I figured if someone was calling at this hour it was probably important. So, with some trepidation, I tapped the option on the screen to answer the call.

“Hello?” I said in a cracked voice.

*

Laura’s eyes had widened yet further.

“Holy fuck,” she said, echoing my earlier words. “Yeah. Yeah, that would make sense. Well, not sense, but…”

I scowled at her.

“Sense?” I snapped. “None of this makes any sense. What possible connection could… that… have to what’s going on now?”

“Well, not to state the obvious, but… Alice?” said Laura bluntly.

Damn. She was right. But it still didn’t really make sense. What was the connection between the events of that night and the other Alice? They shouldn’t have anything to do with each other, right? After all, the other Alice was convinced that I was the one who had… departed — me, along with, apparently, everyone else in the world.

Could that have happened at the same time as…

“I can tell you’re thinking what I’m thinking,” said Laura. “But we have no way of knowing right now.”

“Yeah,” I said. “The only way I’d be able to find out would be to talk to her and find out, and even then, there’s no guarantee that she’d remember the exact time something as awful as…”

I trailed off for a moment. It occurred to me that Alice hadn’t explained exactly what had happened to everyone else in her world. She claimed they were all gone, but before she’d had the chance to explain herself, we were torn apart again.

I made a mental note. The next time I saw her, that would be the thing to talk about.

I slumped back against the arm of the sofa and looked wearily at Laura.

“I don’t get you,” I said quietly.

“What’s not to get?” she said softly.

“One minute you’re hysterical and upset about me; the next, I feel like you’re looking at me as if I’m mad; the next, you’re trying your hardest to help me. I guess… I’m just wondering what you’re really thinking.”

“I want to help,” she said simply. “I honestly don’t know what to believe right now, even after seeing you disappear from in front of my eyes that time… but the one thing I do know is that I want to help. However I can.”

“Just… please promise me one thing,” I said.

“Sure,” she said.

“Please don’t even think about getting me taken away as some sort of nutcase until we’ve figured this all out,” I said. “I know there’s the distinct possibility that all of this is some sort of fucking crazy hallucination I’m having from lack of sleep or something, but I need to know for sure. If it looks like, beyond a doubt, I’m going insane, then sure. Do what you need to do. But for now, please, trust me. Believe me. Even if it’s difficult. Even if it makes no sense.”

“I do,” she said without hesitation. “I believe in you. We’re going to get through this.”

I’m not sure when I eventually fell asleep, but I knew without looking at the clock what time it was when I woke up again.

“2:30?” I said to myself as I pulled the covers off my head and emerged into a dark room illuminated only by the digits of the clock radio. “2:30,” I said, confirming my suspicion via a glance at the glowing numbers.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, climbing out of bed. I’m not sure at what point I had become so complacent about these strange happenings — after all, it was just yesterday that I had been yelling at the mysterious figure about how much I wasn’t ready to deal with whatever its stupid plan was. Perhaps it was just mental exhaustion — not having anything more left to “give” — or perhaps it was a sign that I really was growing accustomed to this strange and unnatural existence.

I walked slowly and carefully down the hallway in the direction of my sister’s room. Without hesitating this time, I grasped the door handle and opened it. I felt the same sense of nervous tension as I always did when doing this, and I knew that she’d be there waiting for me. I didn’t sit down on the bed, and I didn’t reach out to touch her; I just spoke in a soft voice.

“Alice,” I said. “Are you there?”

“Yes,” she said, apparently unsurprised to hear my voice. “Come on in. Not that I think I have a choice in all this, huh?”

“No, I guess not,” I said with a slight chuckle. “But I don’t really have a choice either.”

I sat down on the side of the bed.

“Shut your eyes,” she said.

“What?” I asked, and was promptly answered by Alice flicking the light on, dazzling me. I snapped my eyes shut.

“I warned you,” she said. “Now, is there a reason you keep bothering me in the middle of the night like this?”

I thought about this for a moment.

“Well, if I’m honest, not really,” I said. “But I wanted to see you again, and it helps to have someone else to talk about these weird happenings with.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “After all, whatever it is that’s happening to you happened to me that one time. I managed to come in and see you in your room.”

“Oh, so that was you,” I said.

“Of course it was me, you big lunk,” she said. “You recognised me and everything.”

“Right, right,” I said. “That’s not what I meant, though.”

I took a deep breath and started to recount my strange conversation with the shadowy figure from yesterday — including the part about how we were different “versions” of each other from the ones we knew.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up there,” she said. “So I was right, then. This is some sort of weird parallel universe thing.”

It sounded utterly ridiculous in the blunt manner she said it. But I had to admit that there weren’t many alternative explanations.

“Yes,” I said. “I suppose so. You’re convinced I’m… you know.”

“Dead?” she said, slightly irritably. “Stop pussy-footing around it and just say it. I thought you were dead, yes. And you apparently thought I was dead. And?”

“Well, then,” I said. “That there doesn’t add up. We can’t both be right. Unless we are. The only way in which we could both be right is if one version of each of us is…”

“Dead,” she said, finishing my sentence. I thanked her silently for not making me say it. “Man. My head is spinning. And, I gotta say, if it is the whole ‘parallel universe’ thing going on, I think I’m the one who got the shitty end of the stick here.”

“Why?” I asked, a little more indignantly than I intended. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she said. “But you’re dead. And so is everyone else.”

“You mean Mum and Dad?” I asked.

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Along with pretty much everyone I’ve ever known, ever. I’m all alone. And not just all alone in an ‘I’m so depressed so I’m going to lock myself in my room’ sort of way. I mean literally all alone. There is no-one else here at all. They are all dead. They are all gone. I am the only person alive. Are you getting this yet? Are you understanding me?”

My blood ran cold as her increasingly-agitated words reached my ears and my brain decoded their meaning.

“Holy shit,” I said. Then the lights went out, and I was left sitting on the side of her bed back in my own reality.

*

I couldn’t get back to sleep after that revelation, so I had spent the rest of the night making myself strong cups of coffee and staring at the clock on the oven. As the sun began to rise, I dug around for my phone and sent Laura a message saying that I’d be all right to go to college today. This empty house was starting to feel like a prison — though it couldn’t possibly compare to what Alice must be feeling.

I felt a little guilty about the amount of self-pitying I had done over the course of the last few days. I thought I had it bad, but at least I still had Laura, and at least I was still living in a world that actually had people in it.

I had considered the possibility that Alice might have been playing a cruel prank on me, of course, but I remembered the curiously empty, dark college campus I’d seen. There was certainly no sign of human life there — was that part of the same strange phenomenon that was, for some reason, bringing me together with this… “other Alice”? If so, it would certainly seem to match up with her story.

I had too many questions to be able to draw firm conclusions. I never stayed long enough in what I was coming to think of as “Alice’s world” to be able to tell if she was telling the truth or not. I didn’t even know for sure that the deserted campus and the darkened room in which she was still alive were the same… parallel world, or whatever they were. I got the feeling Alice wanted to say more to me last night, but she didn’t get the chance to. Why was she the only one left alive? How did everyone else die? What was so special about her? And what was so special about me, who was able to… cross over and see her?

I lay my head down on the kitchen table as I grasped my latest cup of coffee — I’d lost count somewhere around the fifth or sixth — and closed my eyes. I groaned to myself. This was not getting any easier to deal with, but somehow my past feelings of fear were starting to seem like a distant memory. I was mentally and physically exhausted, and right now I just wanted to get out of here. The prospect of going to college and immersing myself in some tedious coursework was just what I needed right now — a semblance of normality in a completely chaotic existence.

There was a knock at the door, and I recognised the distinctive pattern as Laura’s. I got up, tossed my now-cold coffee into the sink and went to answer it. Sure enough, there she was on the doorstep, looking as tired as I felt.

“You all right?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ve just been… worrying, you know.”

“Yeah,” I said. I felt bad. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “I don’t think. I don’t know. Hey. You’re probably right. Getting out of here is probably a good idea, but do you think we could talk about this later?”

“Sure,” I said. “But it’s not really making any more sense now than it was before. In fact, it’s probably making less sense.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “I just want to… feel like I’m in the loop, you know? I don’t want you to get dragged away by whatever weird shit is going on. I want to help. If I can.”

“I’m not sure you can,” I said. “But thanks. How about you come back here after classes today and we’ll talk about it?”

She smiled at me.

“You’ve changed a little,” she said. “I like it.”

I felt my cheeks flush slightly and got a sudden urge to change the subject.

“Shall we go, then?” I asked.

“Yep,” she said, visibly brighter, though still with massive bags under her eyes.

*

The passed uneventfully. I was grateful for the lack of weird incidents, and happy for the opportunity to throw myself into the surprisingly tiresome task of writing 1,500 words on the subject of “taboo language”. It turned out that exploring the etymology of the word “fuck” wasn’t nearly as interesting as it sounded.

Laura met up with me outside the front door of the college once the day had come to an end. She looked a little more lively than she had done earlier.

“All right?” she said. “Still okay to come by for a bit?”

“Yeah,” I said. I felt a slight sense of nervousness at the difficult, bizarre conversation I had waiting for me at the end of the drive home, but also grateful for the fact that Laura was willing and able to stick by me through all this. I wasn’t quite sure if I’d be able to handle it all by myself.

I thought to myself, with a not-inconsiderable amount of guilt, that handling it by herself was exactly what Alice was doing right now. Her words — if they turned out to be true, of course, and I didn’t really want to doubt her — meant that she really was all alone, rather than having someone who was apparently willing to stick by me even as I came out with the most outlandish-sounding nonsense about why I was acting so strangely.

“Hey Laura,” I said as I got into her car. “I probably don’t say this enough, but… thanks.”

“What for?” she said, smiling.

“Everything,” I said. “I really appreciate you being there for me. You’re always there for me. You’ve got my back, I know that.”

“It’s fine,” she said, starting the engine. “You know, it’s not entirely selfless on my part, either, as you’ve probably noticed.”

I hadn’t. Should I have?

“Oh?” I said.

“Yeah,” she said, pulling the car out onto the road. “You’re not the only one who feels alone, you know. While I really like spending time with you, I don’t hang around with you so much just because of that. Outside of my parents, I haven’t really got anyone else either.”

“Oh, wow,” I said, quietly. I felt awful. I’d never even thought of that. I’d always just thought of Laura as “my friend” and not even considered the question of who — if anyone — she might be hanging around with when I wasn’t around. So that was why she’d been so upset at the weird happenings the other night. She thought she was losing… her only friend?

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’ve had your own stuff to deal with, so I never brought it up. But… since strange stuff is going on, I’d like you to remember it if you can. I know I got a bit hysterical the other night, but I meant what I said. I don’t want you to go anywhere. I’m not sure what I’d do without you so please… whatever it is you’re involved with, and I’m hoping we’ll have a good talk about this when we get home, please try and stay safe.”

“I will,” I promised. “I will.”

I was in a dark room, the only illumination coming from a small candle in the middle of a table in front of me. The rest of the room was filled with the sort of darkness so thick it looked like it would be hard work to walk through; like it would try to suffocate you, smother you.

I walked towards the table — there was nowhere else to go — and stood in the small pool of light around it.

Nothing happened for a moment. I looked around with some curiosity, but for some reason I didn’t feel uneasy or scared. I felt like I should just wait, so I did.

There was no sound. The room, wherever it was, just was. It simply existed. I couldn’t hear any sounds from outside, nor any noise from in here. Even the slightly-flickering candle flame wasn’t making a sound.

Then, suddenly, I heard something. Footsteps? They were slow and tentative, and they sounded like bare feet on a tile floor. I looked down at my own feet, but the light from the candle wasn’t enough to tell what I was actually standing on. I tried to move my feet and make a sound with them, but I found I was rooted to the spot. I couldn’t move.

I still felt curious rather than scared or uneasy. This was happening and there was nothing I could do about it.

The footsteps were coming closer now. They sounded like they were slow; tired.

I knew who they would belong to before the shadowy figure emerged from the impenetrable darkness.

“Alice,” I said quietly, in a calm, emotionless voice. She looked up and continued walking towards me slowly but regularly; not quite stumbling, but looking like she had walked for a long time and just wanted to rest. Her eyes looked at me, but there was no spark behind them, no glimmer of recognition. She looked, to all intents and purposes, like she was–

As she stepped into the visible pool of light around the table, suddenly she vanished, her body seemingly shattering into a pale smoke. I watched it rise into the air and gradually disappear into the darkness–

–and then my eyes flicked open, and I was gazing at the ceiling of my room again. The familiar sounds of the middle of the night — the gurgling of the radiators, the occasional sound of a car driving past in the distance — were back once again.

I rubbed my face and sat up, groaning to myself. I glanced over at the clock. 2:30 again. What was it about this time?

I decided to go downstairs and get myself a glass of water, as my throat felt completely parched. I did so, the cool yet not-that-nice water from the tap washing down smoothly, feeling like it was filling me with life.

The details of the dream were fast fading from my mind, but I knew that Alice was involved in there somehow. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all. Perhaps it meant something, or perhaps it was just my unconscious mind struggling to make sense of what was, after all, an inexplicable series of events that had taken place over the last few days.

I began to wonder if Alice would be in her room again tonight. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I saw her, but I felt a powerful urge to check in on her anyway. The prospect of seeing her again still caused my guts to tie themselves in knots and my heart to begin pounding, but tonight felt different somehow — like I was expecting, wanting it to happen. I walked quietly up the stairs and hesitated outside her room just as I had done several times before.

I pushed the door open slowly and it gave its usual little creak. Inside, it was dark; the moon was clouded over again, so there wasn’t much light coming in through the crack in the curtains. I could tell from the strange feeling I was getting that Alice would be in her bed, though.

I sat down on the side of it and reached out to touch her. She groaned a little and rolled over, then I heard her take a sharp breath.

“You’re here again,” she whispered. “Why?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” I said in a low voice.

“I don’t have a clue either,” she said. “It’s weird. It’s like… I don’t know. One minute you’re here, the next you’re not. Or one minute I’m there, or the next I’m not. What’s going on?”

I paused in thought for a moment. Could it be–

“Wait,” I said. “Is something… strange happening to you?”

“Besides my dead brother creeping into my room in the middle of the night?” she hissed sarcastically. “No, things are just peachy.” She paused. “Yes, of course something strange is happening to me, you prick. I was hoping you’d be able to explain why you keep showing up like this.”

“I… was actually hoping the same thing,” I admit. “I don’t understand what’s going on. So far as I’m concerned, you’re…”

“Dead?” she said. Her bluntness stung a little. “No, I’m not dead. Look.”

I couldn’t see what she was doing in the darkness but I heard and felt her moving around in the bed. I figured it might be best that I didn’t see exactly what she was doing.

“Well, I’m… still here, too,” I said. I reached out my hand and touched where I assumed her arm was.

“Ew!” came the response. “Don’t be weird. Also, your hands are cold.”

Evidently that wasn’t her arm.

We both sat in silence for a moment. I cleared my throat a couple of times to let her know I was still there. It seemed that we were being allowed to stay together for a little longer than usual.

“You know,” she said after a while, “I know I give… gave, whatever… you shit all the time, but I am glad to know that you’re sort of alive somewhere.”

It was a clumsy sentiment, but it was a strange situation and there really wasn’t a better way for her to express it.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad too. I thought you were gone forever.”

There was no response, and I knew that we’d been torn apart once again.

*

The next morning, Laura showed up as usual, but when I opened the door she came in.

“You’re taking the day off,” she said. “You need rest. Lots of rest. And I’m going to make sure you get it.”

She said it in a tone that indicated there was to be no arguing with this arrangement. I knew that it was futile to resist.

“Fine,” I said. “But is it okay?”

“I called Gladwell,” she said. She was on good terms with our tutor. “He’d noticed you’d been a bit out of sorts recently, so I arranged it all with him. Don’t worry.”

I instantly found myself wondering exactly what she’d said to him.

“I said don’t worry!” she said, seeing my face. “I didn’t tell him anything specific. Not that I really know anything specific, either. Come on. Talk to me. Please?”

“I’ll try,” I said. “At least come in properly. Take your shoes off.”

She obliged. I closed the front door behind her and I led her into the lounge. I plopped myself down in one of the armchairs and she sprawled on the sofa.

“Make yourself at home,” I said sarcastically. I didn’t mind, really. I spent very little time in this room. There was no real reason to. When I was at home, I spent most of my time in my room, and when I wasn’t here, I was at college. This was what my life, such as it was, had become.

“So,” she said, sitting up and propping herself up on the sofa arm. “Let’s try and have this conversation again. Before you start, I know it’s tough. And I know it hurts. I also know you. I know you’re trying to be strong and carry all this on your own shoulders because you feel that you have to for some weird reason. But I’m telling you that you don’t have to. I’m here. I want to help.”

I sighed. Rationally speaking, I knew she was right; I was being an idiot, and that was probably what was leading to these tricks my brain was playing on me — assuming they were tricks — but it was difficult. I didn’t “do” opening up to people. I didn’t “do” talking. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I couldn’t. Laura had been literally my only friend for a long time now, so I’d had very little practice at expressing myself properly.

It was a strange feeling. Often I could imagine the conversation I’d want to have with her, or at least the way I’d want to start it, but would end up choking on the words. Not literally. Well, not quite. But I would feel my throat tighten and become dry, and the words would be impossible to get out. I’d either end up just staring at a wall or making an excuse, and the things that probably needed to be said were left unsaid. This was starting to develop a strong risk of becoming one of those times.

“Laura, I–” I began, then paused. “Thank you,” I said simply. “You’ve always been there for me, and I don’t deserve it. I treat you like shit, but you’re still around.”

“That’s not true,” she said. “You know me well enough by now, surely. I wouldn’t stick around if I actually thought you were treating me like shit. I’d tell you off first, but yeah. If you kept it up, I’d be off.”

I smiled a little. Her words weren’t overly convincing. I did worry a little about her.

“Really,” she reassured me. “I promise. I would tell you if you were taking the piss.”

“All right,” I said.

I paused and contemplated what I should say next for a moment.

Then I released the safety catch on my mind, and started talking.

I explained about the previous evenings, how I’d been absolutely convinced that I’d seen my sister, alive and well, in her bedroom. I explained about the weird darkness I’d experienced at school. I even told her about the voice I’d heard in the classroom, and the weird figure in the mirror. I just kept going and going and going because I knew that if I stopped, I wouldn’t be able to start again. I had to get this all out of my head. I had to tell someone. I had to release this tension. I had to–

“Holy shit,” she said eventually. “I… I’m not quite sure how to respond to that.”

There was an awkward silence.

“You think I’ve actually gone insane, don’t you?” I said wearily. My tirade had taken all of my mental strength, and now I felt exhausted, despite the fact it was barely an hour since I’d got out of bed.

“Well, no…” said Laura. “I don’t know. No. You’re not insane. If you’d actually gone crazy I doubt you’d be able to talk about this right now. But something’s going on, and — don’t hate me for saying this, I know you don’t like it — you could probably do with some help.”

“You might be right,” I said, closing my eyes and leaning back in the chair. It was a moment before I spoke again. I sat up again and looked at her. “I honestly don’t know what to do. It happened again last night. I saw her, spoke to her, but then we were pulled apart again. And the weird thing is, the same thing seems to be happening to her. She seems to think that I’m the one who’s… you know.”

“That is strange,” said Laura. She swung her legs down off the sofa and stood up. Then she walked over to me, leaned over me and put her arms around me. “We’re going to get through this. You’re going to be fine.”

At that moment, I believed her.