First Gen Drafts, pt. 3

Note: This is a random excerpt from a story I’m currently working on. Here’s the jist…

 Earth is not the only messed-up place in the universe. Across the portals, there lies a land with an eternally full moon and an ever-changing sun. A land full of nations, struggles, and cultures completely foreign to Earth known as the Realms. Whenever the Earth and the Realms are both dark- with a new moon and new sun- their realities form a bond- creating portals between the two worlds. Though accidents have happened before, portals are mere swirls of energy- energy that’s good at finding anomalies and sending them back where they came from. 

The fate of the Realms changed drastically when not one but two ruling families found their heirs missing- both now at home in Brookwood, Colorado. One a teenager, the other a baby- both make their homes on Earth, unaware of their origins. Years go by, and the former- crown heir to Murdoch- finds himself a hotel manager with an ever-changing roster of kids and a faith unheard of back home, while the latter, is slowly growing into the giant king he was born to be- finding himself spending half his Walmart paycheck on food. 

However, they will not be the only people portal-jumping. The lost heirs and some of their fellow Earth wanderers band together, crossing over to the Realms for good. They stay together in Mondon, the heart of Murdoch, before splitting across the map of the Realms. They each work to make their home in the Realms somehow- becoming powerful, having families, or just trying to survive. Yet, as their ideals begin to clash, the group crumbles, paving a way for the next generation to reform a once strong alliance. All of them sit in the wake of their own destinies- anxious, curious, and excited to see them unfold but, most of all, wanting freedom.

My dad’s gone most of the time- business usually. He’s an exec somewhere, I’m not really sure honestly. Pays the bills and gives me way too much room to myself, so, ain’t too bad. Better than the two and half jobs Sevrin’s always gotta work. Don’t know how he does it honestly. Always off and going and around people- yet somehow finds time for me. Sure, I’m like two minutes away, but still. The sappy loner dude from the dark, empty house, always over at Sevrin’s circus of a home for dinner.

Not to be that guy, but I hate it here. I always do. I hate being alone. Waking up to emptiness and darkness and another day at a computer. Why Dad insists I can’t go to normal school, I don’t know. “You’ll see stuff, Joey. Stuff you won’t be able to forget.” Well, hate to break it to you- the Internet’s no better. Ever been on it? Ugh, anyway. Cooped, alone, and dark’s the main three with me. House’s got one of those fancy tech systems though and all the modern essentials- so, there’s that. Some select words and I can blast my Austrian composers in every room. It’s the life, truly. Mozart, the internet, and loneliness. Sheer, utter loneliness. I go on walks around the neighborhood sometimes just to get outside. Usually pretty nice out.

We’ve lived here for just a year or so. Dad wanted to move back to his hometown after Mom got sick of him. Which, fair I guess. She was kinda a nut anyway. Hardly talked to me, except to tell me to stay home. Always freaked them out how much I remembered. That I could pull their whole arguments out of my ass. It first became a problem when I was real little and I’d hear them arguing upstairs. Like any kid, I always listened in and then would ask, point by point, what each thing meant the next time I saw them. Sometimes what I remembered is why they argued. Didn’t know when to let things go, I guess. Didn’t know when it’d be a big deal. Eventually, I learned to mostly keep my mouth shut. “Angry little thing”- that’s what Mom loved to call me. Angry. Angry that I was alone, that I couldn’t let things go, that things haunted me for far longer than they did anyone else, angry that I couldn’t talk, angry that I was stuck and scared and always so incredibly alone.

I went to real school through 7th grade. Always got picked on though. Really was the perfect combination- small, whiny, and a bit of a tattletale, I’ll be honest. If I saw something, I’d say something, cause I saw this whole video on the importance of eyewitnesses and obviously assumed that that was my God-given duty. Came home with a lot of black eyes and wrecked lunches. But middle school’s when it was the worst. Mix in hormones, weirdness, and everybody losing it and it was a recipe for the worst things. Plus, everyone knew I was the tattletale- “Don’t show Joey anything, or he’ll tell ‘em everything.” So I was alone, always. Nobody talked to me, in case I turned detective on ‘em or something.

Then, then it all went crazy. My weird black and white brain uncovered a weed chain. Through just hearing snippets in the halls and seeing faces, I eventually pieced together the, like, ten kids who’d been sneaking in weed. And, I gotta say, for dumb 13 year old’s, they sure had a solid system going on. And… great fists. Somehow they noticed that I’d figured it out and my walk to the dean’s office was cut short. Weed n Co.’s CEOs jumped me just out of sight of the door and laid waste to me for almost wrecking their perfectly wonderful drug dealing business. At 4:30, I remember one of the office assistant ladies finally came out and the four of ‘em just booked it. I was too broken up to even talk, or like, anything really. She called 911. Mom actually came for once. Next day I got pulled out. And Weed n Co. still went on strong. Ah, the sweet smell of justice, my favorite. And it’s been me and the internet ever since. Whole thing got Mom worried though. Horrified of me ever going out in case the world made me look that horrible again. Which- fair. But still. I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut unless I see something big. But Mom’s gone. And Dad doesn’t really care. Says it’ll be good for business one day, make me a good accountant or something. My inner angst wants to call that b.s., but I don’t know, maybe wouldn’t be too bad. Numbers are less dramatic anyway. Can’t get traumatized by a bad fourth quarter, at least as much.

The one perk to being alone is I got a lot of time. So, so much time. And turns out memory’s half of learning stuff, so Google and I are great friends. When I got the energy, I cram in some new useless languages, pick up some random skills, gloss over a bunch of unnecessary facts. Gotta keep busy somehow.

I should probably go to college. Haven’t decided how much I’m gonna fight to go in real-life human form. Plus, I don’t even really know where I wanna go or what I wanna do. I got a year or so left of my associates, so I guess I’ll figure it out as I get there. Dad’ll prob just enroll me somewhere anyway. Accounting or something classy like that.

But, honestly, after years of a dark house being my best friend, I just want freedom. Yeah, I hear the Disney princess song starting to play too. Rapunzel and I got something special and that’s all I’m saying. But that great wide somewhere Belle’s always on about sounds pretty nice. Freedom’s why I try to learn all I can- figure it’s the best way to have a say in something one day. A way to be free to just do things instead of relying on someone else. As soon as Dad stops monitoring my every move from across the globe, I’ll be gone. Wherever I can go. I don’t care if I see something. I see things, I’ll just stay and process it or something. Buy a journal. And then move on. Even if you see stuff, once you get that you can’t do anything, it doesn’t matter anymore. It just is. My sensitivity died the day I figured out that I could care and remember and replay all I wanted, but my photographic memory wasn’t gonna change what happened. The middle school kingpins still won. The kids at school still hated me. The bad guys just moved further away from me- they didn’t stop existing. My mom just got more afraid- then left. My dad didn’t give a damn then and he doesn’t now. So, cool. I remember everything. Doesn’t mean much unless I make it mean something.

But there’s some memories I’m really glad I have. A perk of having legit memories rather than the ones your brain makes up is you remember how things piece together, how one thing led to another. All the details of what it actually looked like. And that’s what I like about the day I met Sevrin. I remember everything. He was mowing the lawn, loud as all hell, loud enough to overplay my Bach. And after literal hours of waiting for him to stop, I finally went over to be like “It’s been four hours and it’s the middle of the night, are you done?”

Okay, that’s what I wanted to say, but honestly, I probably would’ve walked right by him and called it my nightly stroll if he hadn’t have hollered, also loud as hell, “Hey, you the new kid?!” with the lawnmower still going. After a few tries to yell over the roar of the grass-eater, he finally figured out he should shut it off before tryna chat. He walked over, flannel shifting in the wind and wispy waves of hair shrouding his left eye as he stuck his hand out to shake mine. He was tall, taller than me anyway- which isn’t hard to be. And his eyes did that thing where they never didn't smile. Just, wasn’t possible. I wouldn’t see them not smile for a long, long time. For the record, I’m not and was not gay, I was just excited any human wanted to talk to me. Been a while.

“Yeah, just moved in,” I shrugged, “I’m Joseph.”

“Nice to meet ya. Sevrin. Was hoping I’d see you sometime soon. You going to Brookwood High too?”

“Nah, I go online.”

“Dang that’s crazy. I’d get so bored, but hey, good on you.”

I nodded, “Yeah, it works.”

Sevrin laughed a bit, easing the awkwardness a bit, “Where ya from?”

“Telluride.”

“Oooo, the rich people place? Well, sorry you’re in the backwoods now. Must be a change.”

“Eh, I don’t notice much,” I shrugged.

“Guess you didn’t get out much then?” His eyebrows lifted.

“Nah.”

“Well, I’m usually around so guess I’ll have to show you around Brookwood sometime.”

I just nodded, assuming he was just being nice. “Thanks, that’d be cool.”

“Yeah. I get off work around 5 tomorrow, how ‘bout I pick you up and I’ll take you to the best place in town.”

It was a gas station. The best place in town is and was a gas station. Go round the back, pass five drugs, enter the worst looking door you can picture, and there- in all its crack addict glory- is Flying Pig Pizza. It sports a diverse menu of three options- cheese, supreme, or their entire week’s leftovers, and, without fail, Sevrin wanted the leftovers-covered pizza. It had no joke an inch worth of toppings and if you asked me what was on it, I’d probably name five of the fifty actually on there. You just couldn’t know. But what we did know is that it was freaking amazing. Only time I could ever get Sev to say the f-word was about that pizza. Sometimes he’d bring an extra home to his parents, but usually it was just us two.

Eventually, we figured a way to climb on the roof of the gas station where we could see most of the town. Classic teen movie stuff, I know, but somebody’s gotta do it, right? We went there for a solid month before school started. Watch the sunset and talk about anything, everything, and nothing. I remember every conversation. Every comma on the growing list of things we started opening up about. Even though, Sevrin was as squeaky as they came. Taught Sunday School, never dated, never smoked, never drank, hardly swore, had that good ol’ morning quiet time routine, went to work, went home. End of it. Sure, he knew most everyone, but he just kinda charted his own course. And I always admired that about him. He thought things through, sure, but once he’d decided, he was set on it. He wasn’t going shake much. So, in everything else, he was totally chill. Because if he knew what he knew, why would he worry about anything else? And that just always impressed me. I never really knew things. I remembered them, sure. But it was easy to let all the evidence make everything more confusing rather than less. He was just so certain- about God, about family, about his life, and then my sorry ass just ate leftovers pizza, confused and wondering what’s the point of anything. But he always just, knew.

So when he knew there was something weird up in my room that day I just believed him. There he was, up and staring into my wall like he was going crazy, swearing that something was happening. There were colors and shapes and a whole scene forming in the center of the wall- he was sure of it.

“Jos- Joseph!” He hollered, dazed, waving his hand at me, “Are you NOT seeing this?!” He glanced frantically back at me and then lurched back at the wall.

I just shook my head, “No, but what the hell’s going on?”

He turned back to me, face white and eyes wide, “It- there’s-” He stammered, not able to put words to whatever was frying his circuits. He took a breath, shifting his eyes as he thought. His bewilderment twisted as his lips curled into a cheeky smile. He nodded at the blank wall and I knew- I knew what those eyes and that face usually led to. He looked back at me, “We’re going in.”

“In? Into where?” Shaking my head, darting between the blank wall and his growing excitement.

He grabbed my shoulder, pushing me in front of him, “In there.” He threw me straight into the wall and I was certain I was gonna land in hospital as I tried to catch myself but- I released and opened my eyes. There was snow. So much snow. And wind. And solid rock beneath my feet and… train tracks? Not far from all the snow was a tall, looming black mountain with a hole just large enough for a train blasted through. The black rock watched over the whole side of us and I surveyed, in stunned silence, as the tracks led to another way into a multi-layered city carved into the stone.

Sevrin was behind me- silent and looking around with wonder, “What even is this place?”

“You are asking the wrong person,” I shook my head. “Is this what you were seeing in my wall??”

“Yeah, I just saw all these rainbow light shows then suddenly snow and rock.”

“Can you still see my room somewhere?”

“Uh… no.”

“So, we don’t know where we are or how to get back?”

“...yes.”

“So we’re stuck in whatever fantasy land this is until we figure out interdimensional travel?”

“Basically.”

“And you didn’t assume you were just having an acid trip… because?”

“Okay. Dude. I saw it happening and... “ He shifted his eyes, “This is pretty amazing, am I right?? We might have discovered a whole nother dimension, a whole nother world, man! Did you not wanna discover a whole nother world?? And besides, it just looked like trees anyway. Could’ve been some weird way to get to Germany for all I knew.”

I shifted my head, “Fair.” I sighed, gazing at the city, “And teleportation would’ve been cool.”

“Yeah. It would’ve.” He sighed too, feeling a touch of the growing pit in his stomach I was feeling now that we were somewhere in some universe with no idea about, well, anything. “Well, at least we know how to get to civilization.”

He nodded towards the tracks.“Yeah, whichever one it is.”

“Doesn’t seem too far though. Maybe a couple miles.”

I sighed and chuckled, “Well, there’s no way I was gonna let you bring your car into my room so, I can walk.”

So we started walking, keeping our distance yet following the tracks, hoping they’d lead us to the entrance. So many questions darted through my brain as we went and I just- just couldn't’ get any of em to make enough sense to come out. So I just followed Sevrin.

“I mean, it looks kinda Colorado-y, maybe it’s not too far.” Sevrin hoped, looking around at the snow and mountains.

“I guess. Train tracks and cities and all aren’t really that otherworldly sorta thing.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” He said, us both feeling like the looming mountains behind us were judging us in our idiocy.

We walked on for a few hours, pretending we weren’t freezing or tired or hungry or thirsty or anything else two city boys would be after walking for the longest they ever had in their young, privileged lives. 

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