The children pointed at him, as he came wallowing through the muck. “I come.” He gasped. “I come to see the Seraph. I have an important message for him.”

A child named Ayah went to him. “Who are you?” She demanded. “Why do you need to see Seraph?” Ayah was curious as she was intelligent. She was smart, but stubborn.

Her brother, Dari, was different. He cared nothing about the world and only existed to frolic in the waters of the fields. Very shy, Dari had few friends while his sister made friends and enemies wherever she went. “She asked you a question.” He told the man shyly.

The man empathetically shook his head. “I can’t tell you. It’s for the Seraph only.”

“The Seraph cannot be bothered with questions. He’s busy.” Ayah said, tossing her burnished copper head.

“With what? What could be more important than what I have to show him?” He questioned. “What he has been waiting for for years?” He added as an afterthought.

“Seraph is very busy, counting rice and making sure we have enough.” Ayah replied swiftly. “It would be disgraceful if you intruded on the Citadel-” Ayah gasped, covering her mouth.

But the man’s eyebrows jumped. “He never comes out?” He asked in shock. When the children shook their heads, he replied. “Never?”

“Didn’t you see us?” Ayah said hotly.

“But that’s not how it was supposed to go.” The stranger muttered to himself. “He was supposed to help the people, be one with them.”

“Are you listening?” Ayah said, trying to shake him out of his trance.

“What?” The man shook his head. “Oh yes. Change of plans, I need to see Seraph now! The guards will know who I am.”

“And who are you?” Ayah persisted.

“My name is Myron, and I need to see Seraph now!”

The children silently led him to the Citadel, the center of the village. The Citadel soared above the rest of the buildings, and it was guarded by a wall. This wall was enormous, and to scale it was to say you had given up on life. Even though the guard wall was tall, the Citadel was the largest of them all. It towered above, and when it was noon, you could say it was touching the sun.

“In there.” Ayah whispered. “He’s always in there. Whenever he wants to speak, he stands on the wall.”

“This was not how it was supposed to be.” Myron whispered. “The Citadel wasn’t supposed to be this tall.”

Ayah stared at the man as a thought struck her. “How did you get past the walls?” The walls surrounded the entire village. No one could see out, and no could see in. “How did you get in here?” She yelled. “What’s outside the walls?”

“Quiet.” Hissed Myron. He clamped a hand over her mouth. “All will be revealed soon.” He promised.

The other children looked at Ayah strangely. “There’s nothing outside of the walls. How can there be something? The walls are the end of the world.” Said one kid.

“You mean, you’ve never been outside of the walls?” Myron asked in shock.

“Yeah, I mean, there’s nothing there is there?” The kid replied uncertainly. “I mean, that’s all there is. There can’t be more.”

“There is a lot you don’t know.” Myron replied. “I can’t tell you all of it, but one day, you’ll know what they are.”

“There’s nothing else.” Another kid replied, confidently. “There is nothing else. How can there be? It’s impossible.”

“What makes you so sure? Do you have proof?” Myron replied angrily.

“I don’t need proof. I know.” The kid retorted. “You must be from inside the Citadel, and-”

“I trust him.” Dari said quietly.

“Why? What has he done?” Ayah said angrily. “He doesn’t deserve our trust. He hasn’t done anything! He could be a spy for all we know!”

“I could show you the world.” Myron replied quietly. “I could show you what lies behind those walls.”

“Then show us!” Ayah said forcefully.

“Not now. I have to talk to Seraph.”

“You can’t get past the gates.” Dari informed him. “The guards won’t let you in.”

“I know another way in.” Myron replied. “But you have to go. I can’t just let you take the fall for me.”

All of the children nodded with silent understanding and left.

It was dinner, but dinner was the same. Rice gruel and water. That’s all dinner was. Ayah would chatter away, but tonight she was silent. Finally, her father put down his bowl.

“What’s wrong Ayah? You’re always chatty. Except for today.”

“It’s nothing. Just a little trouble.”

“You didn’t get into another fight?” Ayah’s mother asked sternly, but with concern.

“No.” Ayah sighed. She thought for a moment. “Father, what’s beyond the walls?”

Her father stared at her in astonishment. “Nothing.”

“But there must be something!” Ayah persisted. “There can’t be nothing. It can’t just end!”

“Ayah, eat your rice gruel.” Her mother chastised.

Ayah obediently ate one spoonful before going back to questioning her father. “What do you mean there’s nothing outside of the walls?”

“There is nothing. The wall is the end of the world.”

“But how can it be? The world is small.”

“That’s how the world is.”

“Why is it that small then? Shouldn’t it be larger?”

“I don’t see why.”

“Are there others?”

“Other what?”

“Other villages, like this one.”

Ayah’s father smiled at her ignorance. “There is nothing else. There can’t be. We’re the only ones.”

“Then it’s a small world.” Ayah retorted.

Her father smiled. “It is. And be grateful. Imagine if we had much more people than this. How would you know anybody? How could you know anybody? It would be hard to have many people in one small village.”

Ayah nodded in agreement. “So that’s all there is. Just us?”

“Why would there be anybody else?”

“It’s a lonely world without, without something more. You know, someone watching us.”

“I don’t want anyone watching me take a shower.” Dari pronounced solemnly. Ayah and her family burst into laughter.

“Ayah, aren’t you happy with just us?” Her mother asked a moment later.

“Yes, but I’ve never seen the other side of the wall. All we have is Seraph’s word that the world ends. But if it ends, then maybe we could go up into the tower and see. I wonder what we’d see.” She added as an afterthought.

“Don’t do anything rash.” Her mother warned. “You aren’t allowed in the Citadel and I don’t want the guards bringing you home.”

“Why would I do such a stupid thing?” Ayah laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t go up to the Citadel.”

“Just do what you do every day. What’s beyond the wall is not something you need to concern yourself about.”

Ayah and Dari went up to the attic. Their bedroom was there. Their parent’s bedroom was downstairs, in the room that also was the kitchen, the eating area, and the living room. Ayah and Dari liked it up in the attic. There was a small window (not that there was anything to see), and nobody could hear them as they whispered what had happened over the day.

Every single day, the same thing happened, with them laying down on their mats and whispering before falling asleep. But today, something was different. That something turned out to be figure, waiting beyond the shadow.

Dari turned his head to scream, but the figure clamped a hand over his mouth.

“It’s me.” Whispered Myron.

“What are you doing here?” Ayah asked.

“I’m in trouble, and I need a place to stay.” Myron smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t realize that it was your place.”

“It’s alright.” Ayah told him. “Next time, give us a warning.”

“I’m not sure there’ll be a next time.”


“Why not?”

“Because they’re after him.” Ayah and Myron turned to look at Dari.

“What do you mean they’re after you? What are you two talking about?” Ayah questioned.

“The Citadel has other ideas in mind. I’m going to have to stay here for a while.” Myron replied, rubbing his arms.

“But the Seraph will-will-will send his guards after us.” Ayah finished triumphantly.

“He won’t. I know how to keep a low profile.”

“What’s a profile?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Myron asked again, his eyebrows higher than ever.

“What are you here for anyway? It’s not like there’s anything beyond the walls.”

“Says who?” Myron challenged.

“My father.”

Myron laughed. “Then your father is another brainwashed puppet.”

“He is not!” Ayah cried indignantly. “He’s the smartest man in the village!”

“Ayah, Dari, is everything okay up there?” Ayah and Dari’s mother yelled.

“Everything’s fine.” Dari replied. “Ayah’s just throwing a tantrum because I have more straw in my mat than her.”

“Share with Ayah.” Their mother ordered before walking away to her own mat. The trio upstairs waited for a minute before quietly resuming their arguing.

“He’s just another brainwashed clone. He doesn’t have any thoughts. He’s a prisoner. The Seraph controls everyone.”

“He doesn’t control me!” Ayah whispered back furiously.

“Do you know what exists beyond the walls that keep you here?”

“Nothing.”

“There is something, but Seraph doesn’t want anyone to know about it.”

“Why?” Dari interjected.

“Because.”

“Because?” Ayah repeated.

“Because out there is a world, a way to get out of this house. You probably don’t remember it. It was thousands of years ago. It’s been a while.”

“What’s a year?” Ayah asked.

“A year is,” Myron started, “A year is, it’s, it’s when we revolve around the sun once.”

“Doesn’t the sun roll over the East Wall, then get swallowed by the West Wall?” Dari asked in wide-eyed innocence.

“No.” Myron told them. “Here, yes, but in the real world, no.”

“Why not? What other worlds are there?” Ayah asked.

“There, there are other worlds, worlds where stars explode-”

“What’s a star?” Dari asked curiously.

Myron hesitated for a minute, before pointing out the small window. “That’s a star.”

“We’re not allowed to look out the window.” Ayah said automatically.

“It’s against the rules.” Dari told him.

“You’ve never peeked at the sky? Never asked what happens after the sun goes down?” Myron asked in wonderment.

“There’s nothing. There was always nothing, there will always be nothing.” Ayah told him confidently.

“What about now?”

“What about now?” Ayah repeated in confusion.

“Why don’t you look out now? There might be something.”

Ayah hesitated, torn between obeying the rules, and seeing the truth. Finally, she poked her head outside, and gasped. “Dari.” She cried excitedly. “Look. Look Dari.” She laughed.

Dari looked outside and his eyes grew as round as the bowls they ate from. “What-what are those?” He asked breathlessly.

“They’re called stars.” Myron told him proudly. The sky was ablaze with dots. They sparkled and shimmered and twinkled. They seemed to wink often. Some were bigger than others. Others were smaller than some. Some were in giant clusters. Some made drawings in the sky.

“Look!” Dari pointed to a group of stars. “It’s just like the rice that we harvest!”

Myron nodded. “A long time ago, people made up stories. They said that gods had put mere mortals up in the stars in order to honor them forever.”

“What are gods?” Ayah asked, withdrawing her head from the window.

“Gods,” Myron started once again, “Gods are like people, but they can do special things-”

“What kind of special things?” Ayah asked curiously.

“They could control the weather-”

“But it’s the same thing.” Ayah pointed out. “All the time. There’s no difference.”

“Do you know what a cloud is?” Ayah shook her head. “It’s a white-”

“What’s white?” Dari cut him off.

“It’s a color, and you don’t know what a color is, do you?” Myron realized. Ayah and Dari shook their heads. “Do you know what yellow is?”

“It’s what everything is.” Dari told him proudly.

“No. It’s a color.”

“What does white look like then? And what is a color?” Ayah defended her brother.

“A color, a color, you have to see a color to know what a color is.”

“Is it a food?”

“No.”

“Can we touch it?”

Myron cocked his head, before shaking it. “No, you can’t touch a color.”

“So how do we know it exists?”

“Because you would see it if you just left this place!”

“Ayah, Dari, go to mat.” Their mother yelled angrily. “You won’t wake up tomorrow, then your father will be late!” Ayah and Dari silently lay down on their mats as Myron lay down on the hard mud floor. Before they went to sleep, Ayah’s and Dari’s minds were filled with thoughts of this wonderful thing called color, something you couldn’t touch, something you couldn’t eat, only something you could see. But it existed. It had to.

“So, what were you and Dari talking about yesterday that was more important than sleep?” Dari and Ayah’s mother asked.

“Nothing.” Ayah and Dari replied simultaneously. They avoided eye contact with their mother and had guilt written all over their faces.

Strangely, their mother didn’t press them. Perhaps she was exhausted from the burden of keeping the house clean. “Go to sleep sooner.” She told them wearily. “Your father will fall asleep in the fields today.”

“We will.” Neither Ayah nor Dari was willing to mention the uninvited guest in the attic. Ayah was the first one to speak. “Mother, we feel tired.” She began respectfully. “If you could let us stay home to sleep for a while, we could take care of ourselves in the attic.”

Their mother looked tempted, but shook her head. “The Rice Dole is today. You can’t possibly go today. What will we eat for the week?” Their mother asked.

Ayah and Dari nodded miserably. But Ayah wasn’t going to give up. “Mother, couldn’t you do it?”

“No.” Their mother said firmly. “I have other things to do.”
Ayah and Dari stood patiently in line, waiting to receive their share of the rice. “I don’t understand.” Ayah said, shading her eyes with her hand. “Why do we have to get it?”
“Because the adults are too busy. Mother has to go get water and cook and clean, while Father must go to rice fields. All we do is run around.” He told her sensibly. “Besides, if someone doesn’t get it, then we all go hungry.”
“True,” she told him, “True.” She paused. “When will we stop having to get the Dole.”
“Never.”

“Why not?”
“You heard,” Dari looked around before lowering his voice. “You heard him. Nothing ever changes. So why should we stop getting the Dole? What has changed between yesterday and today?”
“You.” Ayah told him crossly. “Listening to him as made you go crazy.” She told him while scanning the chattering line. “Finally, the line is moving.” They scooted up, closer and closer. They eventually went to the guard.
“Name?” He asked.
“Ayah and Dari.” Ayah replied.
“4 bags.” He signaled to another guard, who gave them 4 relatively light bags. Ayah and Dari were able to carry them home by holding one bag per hand.
“Do you think he’ll be there?” Dari asked, looking up at his older sister.
“Of course. Where would he go?” Ayah replied dismissively. “Where could he go?”
“Where could who go?” Melaka, Ayah’s best friend, asked, coming next to them.
“Nobody.” Ayah lied easily.
“Okay.” Melaka replied. “Sari stole some rice. He’s giving it in trade.”
“We don’t have anything to trade.” Dari informed her humbly.
“Oh please. He’s got something for you Ayah. He really cares.” She jerked her eyes towards Dari. Ayah nodded.
“Dari, why don’t you take these bags home? I’ll see what I can get from Sari.” She handed her bags to Dari before heading off and giggling with Melaka. Dari sighed and trudged the rest of the way home. When he pushed the cloth door aside, there was nobody, except for the invisible person upstairs. He put the rice bags on the floor, next to the cloth door and went upstairs.
Lately, Ayah seemed more eager to go off with Melaka rather than Dari. He wondered when she’d go with him again. “Probably never.” Dari jumped. Myron stepped out of the shadows, grinning. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
“What does startle mean?”
Myron’s grin faded. “Nothing.” He sighed. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong.” So Dari started talking, when he finished, Myron ran his fingers through his hair. He nodded quietly. “I went through this when my sister started hanging out with her own friends.”
“What does hanging out mean?”
“Never mind. So I asked her one day what was wrong with me. She says that I’m too young-”
“What does young mean?”
“-and that I just am too immature.” Myron continues, ignoring Dari’s questions.
“What does immature mean?”
“So I go and pull this prank-”
“What’s a prank?”
“-and she screams at me for half an hour-”
“What’s half an hour?”
“-then, get this, then she goes gets Mom and tells her that I ruined a bit of fun with her friends. Of course, Mom took it the wrong way and grounded her for a month.”
“So you’re saying that I should pull this-this prank.”
“No.” Myron suddenly became serious. “What I’m trying to tell you is that Ayah is growing up, and you’re going to have to live with it Dari.”
Dari looked up. “How did you know my name?” He whispered.
“Your mom was calling you that yesterday when she was yelling at you.”
Dari nodded. It made sense to him. “You know who I am, but who are you?”
“I’m Myron.”
“But…How did you get past the walls? There’s nothing outside.”
“Have you been outside the walls?”
“No.”
“Then? How would you know what’s outside?”
“Because Father told us. He told us that there was nothing.”
“There is something. You can only see it from the Citadel.”
A shout suddenly resounded from downstairs. “Dari, Ayah! Lunch!”
“Coming!” Dari scrambled out of the attic and landed at his Mother’s feet.
“Dari, what is going on? And where’s Ayah? She’s supposed to be helping you. And why are you home?” His mother prodded.
“I felt tired, so I came home. Ayah felt better so she went off.”
“Off where?”
“To,” Dari hesitated, before lying, “To go and annoy the guards, like always.”
His mother frowned. “One day,” she warned, “One day both of you will be dragged by the guards to this home.” She sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t anger the guards so. They’re the ones who give us rice.”
“I thought Seraph did.”
“Seraph orders it. The guards carry out his orders.”
Dari nodded. His mother went bustling around the kitchen in preparation for lunch. “Mother.” Getting no response, Dari continued. “Mother, what’s a star?”
“A what?” His mother stopped being busy and stood up.
“A star.”
“Where in the village did you find that question? Or rather, that word.”
“Somewhere. I heard some kids talking about it.” Dari lied easily.
“Well, a star is,” His mother started, then abruptly changed her tone, “It’s a forbidden subject. If you see these children again, tell them not to use that word.”
Dari nodded obediently. But he wasn’t done with his questions yet. “What’s beyond the walls?”
His mother threw up her hands. “Where did you and your sister get these questions? It’s dangerous to ask questions, dangerous to question what’s been there for a long time. Don’t ask these questions again,” She warned, “because Seraph will hear about it. And when he does,” Here her face softened, “And when he does, I’ll never see you again.”
“Don’t worry Mother. No one will know. I won’t speak of this to anyone.”

Ayah giggled with Melaka as they went to go find Sari. “I wonder why Dari looked so disappointed.”

“Oh,” Melaka said dismissively, “He’s probably jealous of us. I mean, I’m your friend. I’ll be your friend forever.”

“What do you think it means?”


“What?”

“Forever?”

“I don’t know. I heard Mama saying it to Papa when she was talking about Seraph.”

“Then it must be good!” But Ayah was still troubled. Even when Sari gave her almost all of his rice for nothing, she was silent.

“Oh come on?” Sari complained. “No slap? This is getting boring.”

“You want a slap?” Ayah asked. She slapped him, hard. Ayah laughed and went off with Melaka.

“That was really funny.” Melaka told her. “I can’t believe Sari asked you to slap him. I’m telling you, he likes you, a lot. I don’t get why you don’t like him back.”

“Because he’s an idiot.” Ayah replied. “He’s also stupid.”

“But cute.” Melaka persisted. “If he asks you-”

“It’ll be over in soon.” Ayah reminded her. “The couples never last. Never. They’re all gone.”

“True, but I’ve always wanted to be one half of a couple. I want to know what it’s like, even if you don’t.”

“I’m satisfied with Dari and the rest of my family. Why should there be anyone else?”

“Is there someone else with you?” Melaka gasped.

“No.” Ayah said firmly, shaking her head. “There’s no one. Absolutely no one. How can there be? All the boys are idiots, and all the good ones work in the fields.”

“True,” Melaka replied. “Zeta and Mani only lasted for a little bit.” Zeta and Mani were two of the village’s lovebirds, and they had been in love for the longest time of any couple.

Ayah nodded. “So why should something happen between me and Sari?”

Ayah said good-bye to Melaka and went inside. Her mother was busy, boiling the rice and making the gruel they always had. Ayah smiled, and her mother smiled back, her hands not taking a break.

Ayah climbed up into the attic to find Dari and Myron talking quietly. “What?” Ayah asked as they stared at her coming in.

“Nothing,” Myron lied easily. “I was just wondering why you’re so…”

“Dusty?”

“Yeah.”

“I got some extra rice from Sari.”

“He likes you.” Dari told her knowingly.

“Why is everyone convinced there’s something between me and Sari?” Ayah complained.

“The way you look at each other,” Dari responded. “The way you act. He practically begs you for a slap every single day.”

“Myron, tell Dari he’s being silly.” Ayah whined.

“Dari’s right.”

“Not you too!” Ayah cried.

“Ayah, Dari, what’s going on up there?” Their mother called from downstairs.

“Nothing!” They responded unanimously, looking at each other. They waited for a minute, then began to whisper again.

“Myron, what does forever mean?” Ayah suddenly asked him.

He looked at her, startled. “Who told you that word?”

“Melaka, my friend.” She added at his confused look.

“Forever means…it means…damn it, how am I supposed to tell you what forever means.” Ayah and Dari stared at Myron. Myron sighed. “It means, it means beyond time. During all of time.”

“And what’s time?” Ayah asked.

“Time is- wait, you don’t know what time is?”

Ayah and Dari shook their head simultaneously. “Time is…it’s minutes and seconds and hours.” Ayah and Dari stared at him in confusion. “It’s like, like when you grow old.

“And what’s old?”

“Old is, is your parents.”

“So I can call my parent old?”

“Not unless you want to get slapped.” Myron chuckled.

“But Mother and Father aren’t old. They’re workers.” Dari pointed out.

“True,” Myron told him. “but you’re good runners, as well as good liars.” He said slyly.

“I guess.” Dari replied. But you could tell that he wasn’t convinced. “I just think that if one person is one thing, then how can they be another?”

“Well, you’re young. But you’re also a boy.”

“What’s young?”

“Do you to ever stop asking questions?”

“No.”

Ayah lay back, letting the water soak her hair. She puzzled over Myron’s answers. She wondered what they could mean. Colors? What are colors? Who cares what colors are? If you can’t do anything to it, then what’s the point? It’s not like it’s worth something, is it? NO, she thought firmly. It’s not. What matters is what I can feel and touch. Nothing else matters.

But she still wondered about the hidden, forbidden world that lay beyond her reach, that she could not touch or feel or see, but still lived, fed on by Myron’s tales. She thought she heard her name being called, and lifted her head out of the water.

“Ayah!” Sari was calling. Ayah rolled her eyes and swam towards him.

“What?” She yelled as soon as she was in yelling distance.

“Just wondering.”

“Wondering what?”

“Well…” Sari’s voice trailed off as he scratched the back of his neck. “Would you like to-”

“No.” Ayah said, firmly.

“No?” Sari seemed a little more than confused.

“No, I do not want to be a couple with you.” She saw Sari’s face and rushed on. “I don’t like you that way. I don’t like anyone that way. When I’m ready, I’ll tell you. But not right now.”

Sari nodded dumbly. “Okay.” He walked away. Ayah sighed with relief. Now he won’t show any special favor anymore. She thought regretfully. Oh well.

Ayah had other things on her mind. Colors, she mused. Why see something that can’t be used? It’s not useful, so it’s not worth any sleep. But she couldn’t understand what colors were. She thought about the color Myron told her, white. It sounded so pure. Ayah wondered how something so pure had been forbidden.

Yellow was plain. Yellow was boring. White seemed different. It held exciting possibilities, it looked very different. Ayah headed back to her hovel. Myron sat in the middle of the floor of the attic. He looked completely calm and at peace. Ayah waited until he had finished. “What are you doing?” She asked him.

“Meditating.” Was the short reply. “It helps calm the body and soul.”

“What’s a soul?”

Myron smiled. “You never stop asking questions, do you?” Ayah shook her head. “A soul is something other than your body.”

“How can there be something other than your body that you own? Some of us don’t own our bodies. Well, most of us. Seraph and his family and guards are the only ones that own their bodies.” Ayah told him matter-of-factly.

“A soul is you. You can’t touch it, like colors. It’s…It’s like what you love, you hate, you eat, you do. Everything you’ve done is your soul.”

“Oh.” Ayah nodded her head a little bit. For once, Myron was making sense. She could understand what she hates, what she feared, what she loved.

“I need your help.” Myron interrupted Ayah’s thoughts.

“What?”

“I need to go to the Citadel. To the Tower.”

Ayah gasped. “You’ll be killed!”

Myron shrugged. “I have to get a message back. They have to know what’s happening here.”

“Who are they?” Ayah asked frantically.

“They’re the people. The people outside of the Yellow Village.”

“Who?”

“There’s a whole other world outside of here. This place was created so that humanity would have a safe place to survive, because we were going through a war.”

“What’s war?”

“War is when a bunch of people fight. This place is real. It’s a pocket dimension. It’s going to take time to understand, time that we don’t have. I have to get to the Citadel. NOW!” Myron was the one growing frantic now.

Ayah thought for a moment, then nodded. “I know a place.” She said.

Ayah, Dari, and Myron slowly crept up to the high wall. “There are two walls. This is the first.” Ayah whispered. “The second is the actual wall of the Citadel.”

“So how do we get in?” Myron muttered.

“Simple.” Ayah said. “What goes in must come out. There has to be a way for waste to come out.”

Myron stared at her. “We’re going to climb through poop?”

“Something like that.” Dari said.

The trio circled the wall warily. They found a pipe coming out. It smelled odiferous. There was urine coming out as well as poop. Unfortunately, the pipe was open and no one was around it.

“You said you wanted a way in.” Ayah replied to Myron’s raised eyebrows.

“Not this way.” He mumbled. Ayah smiled slightly.

“Come on.” Dari said impatiently.

They clambered through the tube. When they came up, they found themselves in a pool of water. Ayah, Dari and Myron climbed out, only to be seen by a serving girl. She shrieked and ran.

“That blew our cover.” Myron said dryly.

“Come on!” Ayah said forcefully and pulled him along. Dari followed. They ran through a maze of corridors and passageways.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Myron questioned.

“Of course!” Ayah said in frustration. Just as she was about to give up, Dari pointed to a niche.

“There!” He yelled, pointing. Myron and Ayah followed him up a set of staircases hidden in the hole. Myron whistled. They went around the winding staircase, knowing that they could be discovered any second. “Just a few more steps.” Dari encouraged them.

When they found themselves at the top, they saw a round room. It wasn’t filled with mysterious instruments, but the view was fascinating enough. They saw stars in the sky, and they had so many colors! Ayah suddenly knew what red and black and blue was.

She suddenly remembered things, things that weren’t her but she knew was her. She saw herself laughing and playing with Dari, staring out at the night sky. She saw her mother and father walk across something called a beach. It had sand on it, and water lapped the shores. She saw a pink house on a green lawn. She saw herself and a few of her friends going to a place called McDonald’s. She felt a breeze on her skin. She felt scratchy grass itch her back. She felt the sun’s warmth. She tasted ice cream and hamburgers and meat. She heard bells and music and whistles.

And in that moment, she saw her soul.

From the look on Dari’s face, he had seen his soul too. But it was only a moment. Myron was rushing around them, and it was then that Ayah noticed whirring things. Machines. Her memories told her. Computers.

“What’re the computers for?” Ayah asked.

“They connect with the other world. The real world.”

“Are we asleep?”

“No. Some scientist figured out how to create dimensions within dimensions. This is a whole new universe. You’re here, but there’s another world just outside. I’m sending them a message.” Myron explained.

“What are you sending?” Dari asked.

“I’m telling them that the plan’s changed. There’s no way they can send messengers. It’s too dangerous.”

“Messengers?” Ayah said. “As in-”

She was interrupted by a flurry of guards bursting into the room and taking Myron. “Dari!” She yelled frantically and a muffled voice answered her call.

“Go!” Myron screamed. “Get out of here!”

Ayah stumbled around and managed to get Dari. She took him and ran, ran all the way down the stairs, fighting guards. They didn’t seem to care about her though. They cared more about Myron and taking him down.

Ayah and Dari slipped through the pool, and swam climbed out of the tube. From there, they ran all the way to their home. Their parents were in the middle of talking when Ayah and Dari burst through, and without saying anything ran up to the attic. They lay panting on their piles of straw.

"What are you thinking about?" Dari asked his sister once their breathing had calmed down.
"I was wondering…" She made eye contact, and there was a spark.
"What if there are others." Dari whispered.