[Note: Continued thanks to Oliver.]
Shadow. Brandon sits on the bed. Dry.
His room. Or is this a room at all?
Dirt and tree. Not one tree. Dozens. And grass and no sky in sight.
“Wowzers,” Brandon breathes. “Hi. Glad you stopped by.”
Why am I here?
The words come, slow.
“You’re in my bedroom.”
I was not until this moment. Why?
I walk forward. I can’t move my hands.
“You were. I was not with you until this moment. We’re here now.”
That does not make any sense. I can’t move my arms.
“You don’t have time for this. You need to trust me.”
Tyler. Tyler is— I can’t move.
Brandon looks away from me, to his dangling arm.
Then he reaches for me, grabs my shoulder. His hands burst into silk or something bendy like a picnic basket or soft like a cloud.
I feel great. Brandon grits his teeth and tears squeeze from his eyes. A sharp tear.
Everything is blurry.
Then we sit. The two of us. The clock on the wall is broken, an hour ahead. Leaves all over the ground. Hair? Or something else?
Brandon matches my gaze. “We don’t know how to fix it. And you’re not quite us. We would love some help.”
Not right now.
“Oh. Of course. Well, this will not be fun. I have to let you go.” His hands are still shaking.
Do you see what we do?
“Not right now. Get ready.”
Light. Water. Blurry.
Back in my apartment. Tyler crashes into my face.
Do you see me after all?