"If Carl disappears completely now, what happens next?"
"We turned to people we could rely on. I have more details about Westin and his sister. She doesn't appear in the school records we got because they don't have the same last name."
"Adopted?"
"No. It looks like the divorce was messy. The father didn't get custody and the mother wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Changed her and her daughter's names and came out here."
"But why not change Matt's name?"
"Do I look like a psychiatrist?"
"I thought you knew everything."
"Not as much as I thought."
My sister and I used to fight a lot. a lot of. We would argue about everything - whose turn it was to watch TV, who sat in the front seat of the car, what we had for dinner, etc. When we were little, who could sit next to mom whenever we went out. Jen usually wins this contest, mostly because she's smaller and more willing to cry. I'm willing to give in as long as it will shut her up and stop embarrassing us in public.
I'm not proud of it, but sometimes I wish she wasn't my sister, that it was just me and my mom at home. She was always in the way, even by accident. Of course, that's not to say she always has her way. Mom tried to treat both of us as fairly as she could. I was a kid; it seemed to me that Jane always got the better deal. this is not fair. I am the eldest child and I often help with housework. I take better care of myself, clean up after myself, and do housework without complaint every time. I deserve more, don't I?
One afternoon completely changed my mind. Jane is ten and I turned thirteen last week. We were in the mall, just got off the bus and were looking around at the shops and browsing. I didn't understand at the time why Jen didn't go with her friends; I only discovered her clothing recycling habit years later. My mother bribed me to visit my sister, promising to take me to the movies that weekend. I just had to keep an eye on Jen for a few hours, make sure she wasn't lost or in trouble, and then take her home on the bus. I wasn't going to say no, so I took Jane from store to store, pacing impatiently in the stores, trying to ignore the awful radio in the mall, which had a terrible selection of music, commercials, and The commercials make the song constantly pause, which makes it even worse.
The mall has three floors and there are escalators everywhere, making it easy to get lost. But Jane was an expert, she knew how to avoid the crowds and take those plain old stairs at the edge of the building. We stayed on the border, which also happened to be where Jean's favorite store was.
In this way, we came to the third floor and visited a clothing store. I finally noticed a clock. It's getting late. It wasn’t time to leave yet, but there was a show I wanted to see when we got back and I decided I couldn’t miss it. If we leave now, we can catch the earlier bus.
I started urging Jen on, telling her it was time to go, urging her to hurry up. She walked slowly to the cashier and asked the salesperson one question after another. Finally, as time passed, I walked in, handed Jane the money, and practically took her hand and left.
The nearest escalator was packed with people, so I hurried to the nearest stairs. Jen's shoes came loose at some point, but neither of us noticed. I was busy dragging her toward the exit—any exit. I finished shopping in the mall and all I could think about was the shows I wanted to watch. I don’t even remember what show it was, but I know I was obsessed with it. In its place was another memory, one that will haunt me forever.
I stopped near the landing. I was distracted by an entertainer. Someone was performing magic tricks on the street with an exaggerated sound. I wasn't really interested, but he distracted me long enough. Just a second.
There was a moment of distraction, then a sickening crack and a thud.
I turned around sharply. Jane stood on the landing, where the stairs curved between two floors. She was lying on her side, spread out, but all I could see was that her arms were twisted in a direction they shouldn't be. I saw her expression, as if in slow motion, twisting in pain. Her eyes were crinkled and her mouth was open. Her whole face seemed to shrink.
I had already jumped down the stairs and was running towards her when something else happened that stopped me.
Jane stood up again.
She didn't say a word. There was almost no sound. She just stood up and limped toward me. Jane was clearly in excruciating pain, but she didn't make a sound until she was on the stairs. She looked up at me, who was a few steps taller than her, with piercing eyes.
"Matt, it looks like my arm is broken." Her voice was shaky and scared, but she still wasn't crying. Her words finally broke my trance. I came to her immediately. I asked her to sit down while someone next to me dialed 911.
The rest of the story is pretty straightforward. Jane was in the hospital for a while, my mom was called in, and eventually everything was fine. Honestly, in the bigger picture, aside from the stress medical bills put on mom, it's really not that noticeable. I wonder if Jane has thought about this.
For me, it completely changed the way I viewed my sister.
Throughout the entire process, she never cried once. There was a courage in her that I thought I would never find. I always thought of her as just a person to look after, a household chore to take care of before I came back into my life, but Jen was so much more than that. Even though Jane was so young, her body was clearly in tremendous pain and she acted stronger than I have ever felt in my life. in my life.
The guilt lingered in my mind for a long, long time. I was the one who went for her, I missed her untying her shoelaces, I got distracted at the last second. My mother tried to convince me, but failed. I was entrusted with protecting her, and I failed. My sister was hurt and I should have been more careful. I swore to myself that I would never let this happen again. No matter what happens, I will be by her side.
As I watched Jean leave the house, bowing her head like the legendary Huntress, I felt guilty again. I felt like I let her down for the third time. I don't want to believe it, but I feel like there's a secret tug-of-war going on in Jane's soul right now, with me on one side and Sillavel on the other, pulling as hard as they can.
Her words touched me deeply, even though she probably didn't mean them. She unintentionally compared me to our father, a man she had never actually met. I remember him, partly from my own memory, but mostly from conversations I had with my mother. He never looked like a bad guy, but in his own way, he scared me more than any woman I'd ever met. Cold, emotionless, controlling man My mother once described him as "a controlling, selfish, heartless bastard", though never to my face.
I don’t think I’m that way – but what about the calculating and manipulative part? I can feel it sometimes. When Jen asked me to back off, I realized how I had inadvertently pushed her in a direction, a part of me that lurked beneath the surface until Jen shone a light on it. I started to overstep my bounds, reducing her to someone who needed protection and forgetting who she was.
Jane is right. She can totally take care of herself. I would let those years slip away again. My sister is an adult even though she doesn't look like one yet. I had to step back and let her make her own decision. I am her equal, not her protector.
However,……
She needs my help. Not her?
I feel very conflicted. I don't know what I can do to help her. Try to forget about Cy completely
Would it be better to aveil? Force her back into the real world and then talk her out of bringing it up again? After all, like I said, there's no proof. Regardless, we never disappeared. Our brains may tell us that, but by real-world standards, we're perfectly normal.
I'm trying to stay on this path, but it's not going well so far. Carl has been on the run from the police and his family, becoming increasingly unstable. From what I can tell, Jen had an emotional breakdown, although I definitely didn't get the full story from either of them. Clearly, something has to change.
Should I take another approach? Try to indulge our lives? I could bring it out and keep the memory alive. This does seem to calm Jane down in a crisis, bringing her some level of calm and balance. She could dwell in happy memories, tell her stories to Sarah and me, and be kind to the people she left behind. She'll never forget it, and the more painful memories may never get the closure they truly need, but at least she can get through it.
Of course, she'd tried it with Sara, but just an hour later, at their family dinner, she had a complete meltdown. At the same time, this approach will only bring bad luck to Carl. Every mention of Serraville, of the world he longed to return to, of the betrayals and sacrifices we made without consequences only caused him more pain.
There is a third option that has been lingering in the back of my mind. return. Jump back as if nothing happened on the other side. Let us leave this world forever, disappear into thin air, and begin our lives anew in Sierraville.
When I first heard it I dismissed it out of hand and it comes to mind every time - but it keeps lingering in my mind as our lives on earth continue to spiral into chaos , as a last resort. It's a release valve through which I can still maintain some degree of control.
"I'm back!" A shout came from the garage. I struggled to my feet; one of my legs fell asleep from the awkward angle I'd fallen into. Long after Jane was gone, I remained sitting in the back door, missing the garage door. Opening moment. I quickly went out to help her get something, knowing she would take it home. Sure enough, when I walked by, she had two bags on her arms. I grabbed the third bag she put down and opened the door. .
"Oh, thank you, Matt. You're my favorite son, you know that?"
"I'm glad I beat my competition."
Mom put the bag on the counter and messed up my hair. I ducked instinctively and she laughed. I never liked having my hair touched, which of course meant she would touch my hair every chance she got.
"How long until you go again?"
Her eyes sparkled. She smiled mockingly. “Oh, you want me to leave? Need someone to live in this house?”
"I have a job too, Mom." I rolled my eyes.
"Oh, so it's not for pretty girls."
"Did she tell you?" I asked in surprise.
"So there is a girl?" Mom looked equally surprised. "Will she tell me?" Oh, it's getting juicier. "She opened the refrigerator and started putting away the milk. "Tell."
"No," I sighed. "Or, I'm not sure if there is. We went on a date and it was kind of…interrupted."
"She doesn't like your hair?" Mom reached for it.
I pushed her away angrily. "No. Just got something else to talk about. Big stuff." I shrugged. "I don't think you can really call it a date in the end."
"If you say so," she replied absently. She rummaged through the cupboards, trying to find something to eat quickly before she had to go out again. I think my voice moved her, for she suddenly stopped, turned around, and faced me very seriously. "What happened?"
I didn't want to lie to my own mother unless it was absolutely necessary. I let my exhaustion show, and all the stress building up in my head seeped into my face in a smooth wave. "I have to make a choice about something and I'm having a hard time figuring out what's best."
She looked confused, but that didn't stop her. "What choice?"
"Between two important people, which one do I believe is right? Or neither. I don't know." I shrugged again. "No matter what decision I make, there's no going back. There's no do-over. This is final."
"Do I know these two people?"
"……Yes."
Mom narrowed her eyes. "Is one of them Jenny?"
I almost corrected her name, but stopped myself just in time. "Yes."
She shook her head, still confused. "Well, I'm not going to pretend to know what's going on, and your sister is definitely not right all the time, so I'm not going to tell you to take her side. Remember, Jenny is your sister. No matter what you think, you guys The two of us need to work together. Then she can protect you and you can protect her." Mom smiled at me. So, if she's right, be on her side; if she's wrong, make sure she's not left behind. She understands your choice and you stand by her no matter what. Family always comes first. "
Once again, Mom's advice didn't help much. This didn't make my choice any easier, it just gave me a little comfort. Still, I appreciate your efforts.
"That doesn't help much, does it?" Mom added nonchalantly, echoing my thoughts. She turned and walked toward the cupboard. "I'm sorry. Well, let me say this. No matter what decision you make, I believe in you. I know you will think it through, you will always stick to your decision, and I also know you care about your sister. I believe you will choose That’s right. You’re a good guy, Matt.”
Suddenly, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I still didn't necessarily agree with her, but I needed it like a drowning person needs air. I want her comfort. I wanted to write down every word she said because I felt my mind gently drifting to the other side. Without any warning, without any publicity, I actually began to consider a third option. Return to Sierraville.
I pushed it away. I have a real life here. friends and family. I had school, a job, and I really wanted to be in a relationship with Sarah, even if we didn't get off to a good start. I like peace and quiet, away from the dangers and craziness of life. What drives me to go back?
My mother pointed this out. I always try to follow through on decisions. However, as I told Sarah myself, I ran away. From Sierraville, from the choices I made there. When the war was won and new alliances were formed, when they asked for a leader to help them advance and maintain order in their new kingdom, what did I do? I didn't join them in founding a new nation and overturning the terrible laws that had led to the rebellion in the first place.
No, I ran away. I took an action that no one could have predicted, a portal to another world that none of them had heard of (or believed in, if they were the few generals I trusted). I retreated to a place where no one could follow me.
I abandoned them, and worse, I dragged away two people who probably didn't want to follow me. I told Sarah that I had forced Jane to come home, but that was not the case. Jen knew we had the ability to come back, but I didn't tell her it was entirely up to me - I could trigger it at any time. Jen and I discussed the issue, but we never made a decision.
I finally gave in, in that moment when I finally became truly overwhelmed. Blake is dead, Rainier is dead, and Carl is gone. People were literally standing at my door, screaming for leadership, and I didn't know what to do. Now that we're winning, I don't know how to lead. All I wanted to do was run away—and then I remembered that I actually had that option.
In my office, people were banging on the door begging for admission, and I disappeared. I feel like I owe them an apology. Explain why I abandoned them in their time of need.
I force my mind back to the present. Those people are far away and out of reach. There is nothing I can do now. Instead, I have a sister to protect and a friend to...
What? Confrontation? Debate? Comfort?
I'm still not sure.
＊＊＊
I was actually grateful that I had a job that night. I'm willing to do anything to get my mind off my mind, even if it means dealing with clients blindly. As long as I have something to do, I don't have anything to worry about in my own head. When I wasn't helping customers, I was talking to my coworker about anything I could, which, without a doubt, annoyed him to death.
Unfortunately for my sanity, however, I'm about to own the entire store. My night shift partner called in sick, so I was left alone through the slowest part of the shift until someone came to replace me. I tried to mentally prepare myself and rifled through the magazine racks, looking for anything that looked interesting, but nothing caught my eye. I was about to give up on finding something to do when the phone in our store rang.
Now, the store phone almost never rings and it never means anything good. I picked up the phone with a bit of trepidation—and heard a voice I had never expected, but one I welcomed with great joy in that moment.
"Hi. Is it Matt?" The voice was a little harsh because our store phone wasn't the best, but her voice was still perfectly audible, which greatly mitigated the incessant hum of the machine and the noise coming from the front door. Come the beep.
"Sarah?" I asked suspiciously.
"Yes. Jane tell me where you work."
"……Hello, are you OK?"
"I'm fine, but that's not why I called."
I took a deep breath. No matter what she said next, I knew it wasn't going to end well. "What happened?"
"This is Carl.
My heart sank. This is not going to end well. "What did he do?"
"That's the problem. I think he's going to do something," Sara continued, her voice growing tighter. "He just called me. Talked about the police and Blake. He seemed scared. He refused to talk about anything in particular and then just inexplicably hung up the phone. I don't think he was fully conscious, you know?"
I try to rationalize it, if only for myself. "Well, he doesn't know that you know. That's probably why he doesn't talk much."
"You didn't tell him?" she asked in surprise.
"We haven't spoken in a while," I replied, a little embarrassed. "I don't know where he is."
"Matt, this is really bad, isn't it?" Jane didn't say much about him, but he's a big shot there, right?"
"Yes. He is a general, Lord."
"So he already feels disempowered and now he's lost his friend and he's out of control. He's going to find a way to get it back."
"I don't know what to do," I admitted. There was something about her that made me want to be honest with her, or maybe I just wanted advice from someone who knew the situation, since my mother had been of little help.
“…I don’t know either,” Sarah replied, much to my dismay. "But we can't let him wander the streets alone. He needs help."
Doorbell rang. I looked up and saw a ragged woman standing there, looking at me expectantly. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I have to go. I'll remember."
"Okay. Good luck to you," she added as I hung up.
The man just wanted a pack of cigarettes. As I checked his ID, the door knocked again. I didn't look up until the new voice spoke directly to me.
"Matt, we need to talk." His tone made my skin crawl. This is a voice I haven't heard in a long time. Not Carl, but the voice of the Lord of Candor, a man I never trusted for a second. This man betrayed Rainier Selman, ultimately leading to his death.
"Hi, Carl," I said, trying to keep things calm. The customer's hands were shaking as he struggled to reach his wallet. I prayed he'd get out of here quickly, before Carl started talking - but as usual, fate and I were still at loggerheads.
"I'm going to find a way back, and you're going to help," Carl said. There was no anger in his voice, just determination and confidence. Even so, I was worried. I failed to take control of the situation. I drifted with the tide, danger lurking around every corner, waiting to strike.
"Don't know what you're talking about," I said gently. The customer finally took his wallet out of his pocket and started counting the change one by one.
"I found a guy. Daniel Whitman. He knows about Sierraville. He'll know how to get there. He even lives in town, Matt! We can go back. All of us." Carl sounded Almost crazy. He continued, his voice rising. I don't know what he is talking about. This seems illogical. My thoughts didn't come together properly.
"How can you be sure?"
"I know he will, Matt. Trust me."
I will never believe you, Carl. "It's kind of unbelievable."
"Okay, listen," he said impatiently. He turned to the customer, still counting the coins. "Hey, lost?"
"Please wait a moment," the man muttered. Carl narrowed his eyes.
"Carl, it's okay," I interrupted, but Carl was already close to him. He grabbed the man's hand and started throwing the money onto the counter.
"Hey!"
"Shut up. Here." Carl pushed the backpack to him. "gone."
I jumped up on the counter and landed behind Carl. I grabbed his arms and shoulders and twisted him around, pinning him to the glass lottery display next to us. He was too surprised to react in time. "Carl, calm down."
"Matt, what the hell?" he struggled, but he was too weak to do anything to me on Earth. I had no trouble holding him steady.
"Calm down. Come down." I turned to the customer. "Please forgive me my friend. I'm sorry about this."
"Don't worry," the man muttered. He picked up his cigarette and change and left in a hurry. Once I was sure he was gone, I let Carl go.
He's back, but too obvious. This punch was too obvious. I ducked easily. I took a step back and waited calmly for Karl's next move. He was breathing heavily, but he seemed to finally realize that attacking me would have no effect.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"…Yes," he replied. Much calmer than I expected. I held out a faint hope that he actually had it under control.
"You want to talk?"
"Yes."
"……so what?"
"Don't you want to go back?" Karl asked angrily.
“No,” I said firmly—but if I’m honest, I’ve never been more on the fence than I am now.
"but--"
"This was a part of my life that's over now. Carl, I'm trying to move on."
"You're a general. A leader. A revolutionary," Carl said breathlessly. "You started a movement. You overthrew an empire. You were important, you were powerful. They would give you everything. Why wouldn't you want it all?"
"Have you rehearsed?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
"Take this seriously, damn it," he snapped. "That's you, right?" You're a natural leader. Those speeches, man. You said you were just winging it, but you inspired people to fight. Go to hell. "Eternal Glory", isn't it? Even if they die fighting to break free from their chains, how will they be remembered? What will you fight for in silence. "
I shrugged. "I learned it from a song."
Carl paused. I saw him twitch slightly, and then a burst of laughter burst out of him. "Fuck the lyrics. You were kidding me."
"No." I shook my head. Straight from the song. I didn’t even change much. "
Carl laughed even harder. I laughed nervously. Maybe he's getting back to normal.
"Look, this is why you have to come back, Matt!" My hopes were quickly dashed. "Help me find this guy. We can all go back. You belong there, I belong there, Jen definitely belongs there. We're all going to go back, everyone, and everything is going to be okay."
Carr is unstable, that much is obvious. He doesn't know what he's doing. He danced completely outrageously. But at the same time, I also considered his words.
Maybe we do belong there. I feel like I still have unfinished business. Between Carl's reminder and Jen's memory, I was transported back to those moments before I decided to take us home. People there are counting on me to find solutions and lead them through the crisis. I went crazy thinking things would work themselves out. We have just overthrown a dynastic government that had been in power for generations; no matter how well we handle the transition, chaos is bound to ensue. Our work there has only just begun.
Responsible. Everyone says I am responsible. I don't know how much I agree with them, but I can't deny that I have an obligation to these people. I have a responsibility to them after asking so much of them. Those speeches of mine, my vows. If I do not return to fulfill my promise, I will betray the sacrificial spirit of my people.
Not just the people I get to lead, but there's another, more personal sacrifice that I have to respect. The agreement was made in the dead of night, around a low fire in the command tent on the outskirts of the city. This is a promise I made to a dear friend, a man braver than any of us who knew he would die but kept going without regrets. Blake loved that world and the people in it. He made me vow to make this place a better place, no matter the cost.
As my past words echoed in my mind, I looked back at Karl coldly. Even though I felt like I might need to go back, I knew Carl shouldn't. He was much better before we left. Kinder and warmer, if a little annoying. He has become so cold and distant now. I hesitate to admit it, but I feel like Seraville created a monster in him—a monster that should never be awakened.
Carl can't go back with us. I saw him betray one of his best friends, turn his back on him, and leave him to die at the hands of a group of greedy revolutionaries. I will never trust him again.
"Go home, Carl," I said softly.
His face fell. "Is that so? Is that all you have to say?" His voice was as calm as mine.
"Serraville does not exist," I said firmly, consciously repeating what I had said the night we returned.
Carl shook his head. "You'll change your mind. Eventually." He turned and left the store, and I felt the room immediately brighten. I felt breathing easier, as if Carl's presence was weighing on my lungs. This release seemed to confirm my decision to shut him out. I leaned back against the counter, lost in thought again.
Now I have two roads in front of me. One of the roads grew darker and darker every day, and I tried to walk down it, but got lost. Beside me, another path began, and my sister and the world I thought I had sworn to leave loomed like ancient, towering statues, silently judging my every move.
I felt my thoughts changing, and with inner reluctance and fear, I stared at the second path.
