2217: When You Have No Occupation, You Should Stay Occupied

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One of the things that is most difficult about being out of work is keeping yourself occupied without falling into unproductive routines. It would be extremely easy to not bother doing anything useful at all each and every day, treating the time "off" as a kind of holiday, watching television, playing games, listening to the radio or falling into a deep, existential depression while staring at the ceiling of one's bedroom. I say it is extremely easy to do these things because I have done all these things while out of work at various points. Sometimes you need that time to yourself, but unfortunately, said time to yourself doesn't pay the bills.

Doing nothing but hunting for jobs isn't necessarily the most productive course of action either, though. Job-hunting is an enormously demoralising experience, since by its very definition you're going to be faced with more inexplicable rejection than acceptance in most cases. At other times, you'll find yourself faced with an opportunity that just doesn't seem quite right, but which you feel guilty turning down because you need work. (I say this having turned down two opportunities recently that didn't feel right at all. Like, a big ol' "bad feeling in the guy" not right at all.) That can be exhausting, and the toll it takes on your mental faculties can have an adverse effect on your subsequent attempts to find work as you lose patience with it and get tempted to apply to any old thing on the off-chance someone will find you in any way employable.

Therefore, it's important to find other ways to occupy yourself, and to divide your days up into various things that, if they're not necessarily directly productive, they at least provide you with the opportunity to feel like you've accomplished something. Indulging in a creative project, learning something new, practising your skills in something — all of these things are good ways to spend your time and if you're out of work, it's an ideal opportunity to spend some of those empty hours doing them.

You'll notice that I'm writing this and using the word "you" a lot, as if I'm giving advice to someone else. Really, I'm giving advice to myself, to be perfectly honest, since as previously noted, I find it much too easy to sink into depression and just want to comfort myself with things that don't require too much in the way of effort. But that way leads further into bad situations, so from tomorrow, I'm going to make a particular effort to spend a bit of time each day doing something that makes me feel like I've accomplished something. I don't think I'm going to go so far as to schedule what I should do when — not for the moment, anyway, though that has worked for me in the past — but I am going to ensure that I do at least one thing every day for a minimum of an hour that leaves me feeling satisfied that I'm not completely wasting my time.

Activities that spring immediately to mind to accomplish this include music practice, music composition, creative writing (both fiction and non-fiction — I have a number of ideas for both), Japanese language studies, developing my computer skills (particularly with regard to things like programming and/or web design), working on the next edition of the magazine I shared with you a while back and making more gaming videos. That should keep me busy on a fairly regular basis; some of those things may even lead to further actual paying opportunities of various descriptions in the future, if not immediately.

Mostly they're attempts to keep myself occupied and feeling positive. I feel I'm at a particularly low ebb right now, if that wasn't already abundantly clear from my recent entries, and I want to feel like I'm making the best of a bad situation rather than wallowing in sadness. It won't be easy, but I feel it's probably the best way to approach what I'm dealing with at the moment.

Wish me luck.

2089: Connect the Dots

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In response to The Daily Post's writing prompt: "Connect the Dots."

"Scour the news for an entirely uninteresting story. Consider how it connects to your life. Write about that."

When looking for "entirely uninteresting stories", your first port of call should almost certainly be your local newspaper. Sure enough, the Daily Echo didn't disappoint with this marvel:

BREAKING: City bridge closed due to 'police incident'

A SOUTHAMPTON bridge was closed this evening due to a 'police incident'.

The Itchen Bridge was shut at around 6.30pm but the exact nature of the incident is unknown.

And the bridge was quickly reopened at 6.40pm.

This is currently the top story on the Daily Echo website, which probably gives you an idea of the sorts of things that get posted on there. But let's ponder the actual question from the daily post: how this connects to my life in some way.

Well, okay. This is actually quite an easy one in many ways. The most obvious connection, of course, is that I live in Southampton, and consequently I know where the Itchen Bridge is. But the connection actually runs a little deeper than that: about five or six years ago, I used to live very near the Itchen Bridge in the town centre. The bridge itself was within walking distance, only about five minutes or so away. This didn't really have much of an impact on my life for the most part, as I tended to find other ways to cross the river owing to the toll gates at the other side of the Itchen Bridge. But during my oft-mentioned "difficult period" in my life — the time my first wife left and my life pretty much fell apart — the bridge became somewhere that I liked to occasionally head towards in order to just stand and reflect.

I don't think I ever seriously considered jumping off the bridge, though with my mental state at the time I won't lie to you: I certainly thought about it more than once or twice. Ultimately I knew that I'd never actually have the courage to do it, though, for all manner of reasons: firstly, part of me, despite being deeper in a pit of misery than I'd ever been in my whole life, I didn't really want to die; secondly, even contemplating that sort of thing made me feel guilty about the people I'd leave behind; thirdly, the idea of jumping off a bridge into horrible dirty water sounded both terrifying and unpleasant. And, I mean, I know killing yourself (or the contemplation thereof) isn't particularly pleasant anyway, but I kind of figured there were easier, less painful ways to do it.

That didn't stop me regularly going out to that bridge, though, noticing the Samaritans stickers on the railings every time I walked up to its highest point to look out over the water. I never called them — as I say, I knew that I didn't really want to jump — but they always gave me pause when I saw them. Perhaps they did help, in their own way.

Eventually I settled for getting these musings out of my system with a piece of creative writing. In the short first-person narrative — which was left a little open-ended in case I wanted to expand it into a full-on story at some point — the protagonist, who was very obviously me, walked out to a bridge that was very obviously the Itchen Bridge, tormented by his own despair, and jumped. At the last moment, he was saved from his seemingly inevitable demise by a character I'd created and had my own story in mind for; this particular little narrative was set after that other story, even though, to date, I still haven't written all of it. In other words, the character who saved me was the character as she was at what I had planned to be the conclusion of her original tale; as it happened, she fit nicely into this little fantasy scenario, though.

But I digress. How does this news story connect to my life? Well, my first thought upon reading the headline of the story on the Daily Echo website was "someone's probably jumped". Given that the bridge was re-opened after just ten minutes, though, I wonder whether that was really the case or not; at the moment, it looks pretty much like a non-story, despite its prominent billing on the Daily Echo website. I guess my thought process ran something along the lines of "I wonder if there would have been a story like that on the Daily Echo website if I'd actually given in to my despair and jumped back in those dark days?"

Bleak? Oh, absolutely and definitely. But, well, there you go. That's me.

1386: Untitled November Creative Writing, Part 4

Sian was bored.

It was Sunday, the most boring day of the week, and she was stuck in the house with nothing to do. Her parents were both "busy," they said, which meant they couldn't take any time to give her a lift anywhere interesting, and none of her friends were free either.

She'd spent the morning reading her book, an uninteresting "supernatural romance" novel that all her classmates had been raving about recently, but which she was finding deathly dull. She had a mental block that prevented her from leaving a book unfinished once she'd begun, however, so she figured that a boring Sunday was as good a time as any to get some of it out of the way.

She had tired of the book, though; she frequently found her mind wandering as she read and had eventually given up. She tried listening to some music, but she couldn't sit still. She tried playing some games on her phone, but suffered the same problem; nothing was engaging her brain and keeping her occupied.

Sighing to herself, she opened the door to her room and decided to try fluttering her eyelashes at her parents one last time. Surely they couldn't expect her to stay cooped up here all day while they did… whatever it was they were doing sitting at their desks at opposite ends of the house. She wasn't worried about them; they always did this, and they'd been married for a long time now, so it obviously worked for them. It frustrated her, though.

Her father was predictably dismissive of her attempts to convince him. He had a whole stack of email to get through, he said, and it needed to be done right now. He did, to his credit, apologise, but Sian didn't feel particularly appeased by his half-hearted "sorry, Sian."

Her mother, however, surprised her.

"Why don't you just take the bus into town?" she said. Sian was taken aback for a moment; normally her parents weren't at all keen on her going out by herself, so this was an unexpected development — so much so that she had to check what she had just heard.

"Are you sure?" said Sian. "I mean…"

"It's fine, dear," she said. "Your Dad and I were talking earlier, and we figure it's time we let you be a bit more independent. You're sixteen, after all, and you can probably handle going to town by yourself."

At last, Sian thought, but didn't say it out loud. Her friends had been "independent", as her mother put it, for many years now, but she had always felt like a shut-in. She had fought with her parents on numerous occasions about it, but had never been able to prevail; what had changed?

It didn't really matter to her; she was finally getting to go out without a chaperone, and the reasons were unimportant.

"Here," her mother said, handing her a five-pound note. "Get yourself a treat while you're in town."

"I have money, Mum," said Sian, but graciously accepted the note regardless. Her mother chuckled.

"Go and have fun, Sian," she said. "Don't be back too late. Send me a message or give me a call when you're on the way back."

"All right," Sian replied. "I'll see you later."

She wandered out into the hall, threw her coat around herself and fumbled in her pockets to make sure she had everything. Keys, purse, phone — yes, that was everything.

"See ya," she called from the front door.

"Bye," said her mother. She heard the sound of her father getting out of his chair and coming down the stairs, but decided to leave before he came down.

The door slammed behind her, and she was free.

 

*  *  *  *

Town was surprisingly busy, despite the fact that there was a chill in the air. Sian zipped her coat up to her chin and hid the bottom half of her face inside the collar. Now she was here, she wasn't sure what to do.

Coffee, she thought to herself, glancing a nearby café. That ought to warm me up.

She strode purposefully over to the cafe and entered. The air inside was warm, and the smell of freshly-ground coffee beans was invigorating. She ordered herself a latte and a cake to treat herself, and paid with the five-pound note her mother had gave her, plus an extra pound from her pocket since it wasn't quite enough. She knew it was extravagant, but she didn't care right now; it was just nice to be out and about.

As the barista passed her her latte, she glanced around the café in search of a place to sit, and was surprised to see Miss Charles sitting by herself in a window seat. She didn't seem to have noticed Sian; in fact, she didn't seem to have noticed anything at all, since she just appeared to be staring out of the window into the middle distance.

There was a table not far from Miss Charles' table, so Sian decided to sit there and observe what her teacher was up to.

Not much, as it happened; her initial assessment was correct, as Miss Charles did indeed appear to be doing little more than staring out of the window, occasionally turning to her table to sip her large, black coffee. She still hadn't noticed Sian.

I wonder if I should go and talk to her, Sian pondered to herself. No, she probably wouldn't want that… but she does look sort of lonely. Maybe I…

Her phone chimed loudly and interrupted her thoughts. It was a chat message from Jasmine.

ey babes what u up to? x it read.

Not much, Sian tapped out in response. Just in town for a bit. She chose not to mention that she was staring at her music teacher and was contemplating going to sit with her.

She sipped her coffee and returned to gazing at Miss Charles.

She doesn't look at all happy, thought Sian. I really think I should…

Her phone chimed again.

"Oh, for fuck's…" she muttered, this time flicking the switch onto silent. She always felt embarrassed when her phone went off in public, even though she knew her ringtone was far less obnoxious than some of the ones she'd heard.

im free now, came the reply from Jasmin. wana meet up for a coffee or sumat? x

Sian was about to tap out a response in the affirmative, but paused for a moment, frowning to herself.

Sorry, she eventually replied. I have a few things to do, then I have to be back soon. Another time. My folks finally seem to be cool with letting me out of the house by myself, she added.

k x came the reply after a moment. Sian always felt a little bad when she received a blunt response like that from Jasmine, even though she knew that it was just the way she was. She hoped that Jasmine wouldn't mind being turned down, but she had something on her mind right now, and wanted to see if she could resolve it.

She picked up her latte, leaving the crumb-covered cake plate on her previous table. Then, feeling a little nervous, she pulled up the chair opposite Miss Charles and sat down.

"Oh!" said Miss Charles, suddenly snapping free from her reverie. "Um. You're… Oh, Sian? Are you all right?" Sian could tell that she was switching into "teacher mode," obviously trying to sit up straight and look a lot more prim and proper than she was a moment ago.

"It's okay, Miss," said Sian quietly. "We're not at school now. I just… I just wanted to come over and see if you were all right."

"Yes, I'm all right," said Miss Charles. "I'm just having some quiet time."

"Sorry to interrupt," said Sian with a gentle smile. She swallowed, then took a swig of her latte before she continued. "I, err, was a little worried about you."

Miss Charles' eyes widened a little, and she stared directly at Sian.

"You… were worried about me?"

"Yes," said Sian. "Friday was… not very nice for anyone, was it?"

"No," said Miss Charles with a slight sigh. "No, it wasn't. I'm really sorry about that. It put a real downer on things, didn't it?"

"It couldn't be helped," said Sian. "You hadn't… dealt with Edward before, but we all know what he's like. Seriously, it's not you, it's totally him."

Miss Charles gave a weak chuckle. "Yes, well, it doesn't—" She trailed off. "Anyway, I hope it didn't upset you too much."

"Not at all," said Sian with a smile. "I've seen people handle Edward much worse than that, believe me. A lot of people really can't keep cool when he's being a di— when he's being like that. Sorry."

Miss Charles chuckled again. She seemed to be loosening up a bit.

"Thank you for coming to talk to me, Sian," she said. "I appreciate it." She hesitated for a moment, apparently unsure of whether she should say any more. "It's… difficult," she added after a moment.

"I bet," said Sian. "I don't envy you at all. Sometimes I just want to give those kids a good slap."

"Yes, well, we're not allowed to do that, unfortunately," said Miss Charles. "N-not that I want to."

Sian laughed. "Well, we're not really allowed to, either," she said. "I sometimes think it would do some of them good, though."

Miss Charles smiled slightly uncomfortably, apparently thinking the same thing but being unwilling to actually say it out loud.

"Look," said Sian. "I'm sorry for interrupting your Sunday like this, but, well, you looked kind of sad, and I just wanted to see if I could help."

Miss Charles took a sip of her coffee, then closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

"I don't know if you can help, Sian," she said. "I'm not sure if anyone can. But… well, I appreciate that someone like you is trying."

"We're not all bad," said Sian. "Some of us are even human beings, believe it or not."

"So are we," said Miss Charles. "Teachers, I mean."

"I know," said Sian, laughing.

Miss Charles set down her coffee cup and sat forward, suddenly looking a lot more youthful.

"You know," she said. "I always hated that big divide between teachers and students, even back when I was at school."

"Yeah," said Sian. "I do too. Some of the kids in my class seem to feel obliged to just… I don't know, fight against the teachers or something. You'd swear school was some great oppressive regime or something. It's just… weird."

Miss Charles chuckled. "Yeah, I get that feeling," she said. "I haven't been in the job for very long, I know, but I think it's always been that way."

"Okay," said Sian. She swallowed, unsure of whether or not she should say the next part, but pressed on regardless. "How about… how about we be friends, then?"

That wide-eyed look again. Sian immediately regretted saying what she'd said.

"I'm sorry, Miss," she stammered. "I didn't mean… I'm sorry, I…"

"N-no, Sian," Miss Charles replied. "It's fine, I just… that's a really nice thing to say."

"Oh," said Sian. "Whew. I thought I'd crossed a line."

"You probably have," replied her teacher, laughing. "We probably both have. But you know what? Right now I just don't feel like it matters. All right, Sian, let's be friends."

"Okay, Miss," said Sian.

Miss Charles raised an eyebrow.

"If we're going to be friends," she said with a slight smile, "I'm going to have to insist you call me Kristina, or Kris."

1382: Foreword

It's November tomorrow, and that means NaNoWriMo. Or, if you're me, and you like to be awkward, it means monopolising your daily blog with creative writing rather than inane blog posts about nothing in particular and/or video games.

Yes! I'm going to do it again. Much like previous years, I'm going to write… something every day for the next month. Exactly what that's going to be I haven't quite decided yet — and if previous years are anything to go by I will probably "improvise" it and make it up as I go along, with variable results — but I do have a few themes, plots and characters in mind already; it's just a case of actually fleshing them out into something over the course of a month.

Normally I try and post a minimum of 500 words per day for my generic posts and often exceed that; in November, because I'm writing something a bit more long-form, I typically set myself a minimum of 1,800 words instead. I'm going to stick to that because it's worked pretty well for me in past years, and I've usually been able to churn out 2,000 words or more each day, resulting in a total of 60,000+ words by the end of the month, which is sort of novel length-ish.

As for what I'm going to write about? Well, you're going to have to wait and see, aren't you? Largely because I haven't decided which of the ideas I have I'm going to run with as yet. Those who have read my previous work know that I have various stylistic elements that I'm rather fond of using — and have been since creative writing classes at school and university, as it happens — so I'm pondering whether or not to experiment a bit with other perspectives or tenses. Again, we'll see, and I'll make a decision tomorrow when I actually start writing. Once I start writing, I will stick with whatever I go with until the bitter end, and see what happens. Sounds like fun, non? Of course it does.

I'm half-tempted to work on a story I've been working on off and on since school, but I kind of feel doing that would be "cheating" somewhat. While I'm very fond of said story and the characters involved, I do kind of want to do it justice whenever I get around to actually finishing it, whatever medium I end up completing it in. (There's a distinct possibility it will become a game rather than a book, for example.) Not that spending a solid month of churning out 2,000-ish words a day isn't "doing it justice," but I sort of feel like I want to do that without the added time pressure — not to mention the fact that there's already 17,000 words of it that I'm rather pleased with on my Google Drive that I don't really want to abandon and start again.

Anyway. I'm rambling in an attempt to fill space and do something prior to dinner being ready. Hopefully dinner will be ready soon so I can spare you further inane ramblings, and you can enjoy (or be subjected to, depending on your outlook) the fruits of my creative labours over the course of the next month. Either way, thanks for reading.

Oyasumi nasai!

1160: Spoilers Ahead

After writing yesterday's post and doing a little more work on it today, I've decided that I would actually quite like to talk about my RPG Maker project a little more rather than being unnecessarily vague and obtuse about it. Those of you reading who like the concept might be able to give me some motivation to continue with it in the long-term, then, which is probably going to be a valuable thing if (when, more likely) this initial burst of enthusiasm runs out.

However, I am also conscious that discussing some things about this project may constitute spoilers of various descriptions, so I am going to add a "read more" tag to this post so those who would like the finished product to remain a complete surprise can avoid it if they desire.

So, without further ado, click the link to continue reading if you want to… otherwise, I'll see you tomorrow!

Continue reading "1160: Spoilers Ahead"

1065: The Third

Pete slumped down into the chair in front of the hotel room desk and began to type.

"It has been a long day," he wrote. It had been a long day, but not quite in the way he had anticipated when he woke up this morning. He was expecting a day of jury service followed by a bit of heavy lifting as he attempted to clear out the rest of his now-former residence in Chippenham, Wiltshire. Instead, what he got was a whole lot of sitting around in the courthouse until lunchtime before being apologetically told by the judge that the jury were being let go due to the fact that the trial they were sitting on had to be abandoned.

Pete paused, considering whether he should share further details of the trial in question now that he was technically allowed to, but that he wasn't supposed to "publicise" it due to the fact it would be restarting with a new jury at some point in the future. He eventually decided against explicit details, and instead invited his readers to have a chat with him if they wanted to know the dirt. It was a moderately interesting case, after all, and it had left him with something of an interest in the law. He resolved to check whether or not Murder One was on Netflix when he finally got "proper Internet" back in his new place… and then hastily explained to his readers that the trial he was sitting on was not, in fact, a murder trial.

He let out a theatrical sigh and wondered what to write next. This hotel room wasn't the most interesting place in the world, but at least it was warm, vaguely comfortable and had a bed in it, which was more than could be said for the floor he had been sleeping on last week. A "high-tech hobo," he had called himself — essentially squatting in his own house due to the fact that pretty much all the furniture and other stuff had been moved out in preparation for his girlfriend Andie and him to start their new life in Southampton.

The weekend had been pleasant. The new flat was good, and a lot of stuff had already been unpacked and put in its place. His study still needed putting together, but the skeleton was there — bookshelves around the outside waiting for books and the music scores that had been boxed up for a while. He winced as he remembered how heavy the box that contained them was, and reminded himself to take extra boxes to repack them when he went to pick them up from Andie's mother's house.

"Wait a minute," he said out loud, pausing the frantic clacking of his fingers on the laptop keyboard for a moment. "Why the hell am I writing this in the third person?"

No answer was forthcoming, for the room was otherwise devoid of life.

"I really, really need some sleep," he said to himself, clicking the Publish button and flicking on the hotel's painfully slow little kettle for a pre-bed drink.

1041: Chapter 24

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?

1040: Chapter 23

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.

1028: Chapter 11

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."

1027: Chapter 10

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."