Chapter 8

I was 10 and 6 when I left this world and when I came back, I was 20 and 8, completely ignorant to the ways of my original world, having to adapt to that world that took me away. Spheroas. There, all my dreams should have come true, and my life should have gone for the better. It was foolish really, idiotic even. Most people didn't have what I had: a happy, functional family, a strong circle of friends with some modest popularity, with a beautiful and hopeful face that lit up the room.

My spirit has transformed and so has my appearance. The soft features of mine, while still beautiful, have turned from its baby-like plumpness to a sharper and angular feral tint most evident in my eyes and my eyebrows, which are long and have a nefarious looking arch to them. My eyes are no longer the familiar, rather long and piercing, much like a cat.

The snore of the young people brings my attention to where they are laying. They are laying on my soft carpeted floors and I am wondering what they are thinking of as they lay in their confusing and complicated dreams. It has claimed another life this book called "The Otherworldly Fault", and it has long-reaching effects, ruining families and turning their hearts towards despair, never them knowing where someone so cherished has gone and vanished.

I move to my window in my kitchen, inspired by the simplicity of birds flying high over our heads and following their destined journeys. I bring the porcelain teacup to my lips, drinking my fill of it to keep my calm and to effectively do what must be done. Then, I begin to hear the beginnings of the two wakings upon their pallets.

"Vanity!" the young woman with the many ringlets framing her face. She looked like a doll almost, but there was a down-to-earth familiarity to her face. They twisted around with anxiety, begging their bodies to wake up.

I watched them a few minutes more until with a snap of my fingers, they sat straight up with their eyes wide and full of fear.

"Where are we ?!" the young man questioned with confusion woven on his face. All the woman could do was say "Vanity…she's gone. I can't believe she's gone!" Then, I came waltzing out of the corner of my kitchen and into their full sight. Their befuddlement and fear deepen even more.

"W-who are you?" the woman began to interrogate "Did you have something to do with Vanity disappearing ?!"

I sat my teacup down on the dresser and looked at them as their breaths began to leave harshly. Then I spoke the answers they needed.

"Your friend's disappearance has nothing to do with me. She was gone before I even appeared at the house. I appeared because we couldn't lose more people to that book. To that world."

"You know about the book too? How? Have you've researched it?" The man asked with sudden boyish interest.

"I am Eunice Westbrook, the outcast of my town for my warnings of beings who are above us in power and thoughts. That we are not the only beings who are existing in this universe or even on this earth."

A glow shone on his face.

"Y-you're her!" He pointed at me with a glint to his eyes of acknowledgment.

When I realized his belief and the acceptance of my story, I smiled, just a small one, then spoke again with a laugh on my breath. "You know about the supernatural….don't you ?"

Both a look of shock and the veil of a shadow passed just as quickly as it came onto his face.

But before he could speak, the woman spoke up with certain control and commanding tone, a tone I could tell is not used often or lightly.

"Ms. Westbrook, my friend is stuck in a world, that in her delusions, thought would be a better world to face than the world she was born in, where she truly belongs and looked upon herself as not worthy. All I ask is that if there is a possibility you can save her, let us come along."

I looked upon them in all their hopes and trepidation, closed my eyes, and felt power roaring in the furnace, Then I stilled myself and looked upon them.

"I will help, for I cannot stand to see a livelihood of a person inside the book and the people around them crumble to nothing. Very well, I will help, but understand this, this book has no mercy on the fragile, for it is a horrific and horrendous world, full of people who are apathetic, violent, and broken down. There is no reprieve in Spheroas. There are no graceful goddesses, and the only merciful one is weak, and her people are weak, There must be resiliency and you must brace yourself."

I paused, watching them figure out the right course of action. Not too long after, the man popped up from his seated position into something firm and alert. He affirmed "We both will be going. We must save our friend."

I snapped my finger and a portal appeared. It blew a fierce wind.

"We will be going to that house in which your friend disappeared. Be careful to stay close to me. When we touch the book, we touch it together. If we do not, we will fall to different parts of this world."

I raised a hand for them to take and we went through, finding our way to the house. There was a silence that was ominous on this day when choirs should be singing. We continued into the house and carried on into her room, careful to not touch anything and leave it in place. Then, we see the book and stop to take a breath. We begin to surround it.

"On a count of 3, we touch it. 1…2…3…"

We touch it and find ourselves out of this world. Where will we all find ourselves when we get here? Will I find that we all have gotten here together?