BEEP BEEP BEEP
An alarm blared. Jemma jerked awake and fumbled to shut off the clock. She hit the snooze and groaned, shifting to stare at the gray ceiling. Why had she used that old thing? Grayness drifted through her mind as she rubbed her forehead. A headache still lingered from the day before. She groaned as she pulled herself upright and reached for her phone to check for any work messages.
Her phone wasn’t there. She blinked several times, rubbing her face. Wha—?
A marble necklace sat on her nightstand instead. The thought rolled across her mind.
Cloud World
Jemma threw back her blankets and searched for signs of a two-foot-tall green lemur amphibian, but her apartment was empty, and everything was in order. She exhaled in relief.
So it was just a dream.
She frowned. Not having remembered going to bed the night before.
And it that didn’t explain why her phone was gone. Her frown deepened as she tried to recollect where she had placed it. As much as she tried, she couldn’t recall. It was like a wall of thick clouds clogged her mind. She slipped off her bed, but drew back in a gasp. The floorboards were ice cold.
The heating system must be broken.
As to why it was so cold in the middle of the summer, it didn’t make sense. She’d have to check in on that later. She glanced at her clock.
7:47.
She needed to get ready for work. Jemma hurriedly put on a thick pair of woolen socks before hopping over to her work desk, hoping to find the phone there. After a quick look, she found nothing. She hissed in frustration.
7:48
Telling Matt she lost her phone wouldn’t look good, not after yesterday’s events. Yet, it wasn’t like he needed to know she couldn’t find it. If she logged in on time, there wasn’t a reason he would need to contact her. Jemma hustled over to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. It was the only thing to look forward to on days like this. She tried once again to remember where she put her phone, but it was like pins and needles pushed through her skull the harder she tried. Jemma grimaced.
I must have forgotten to take my pills yesterday.
She pressed the button her her coffee machine. It spurted and started brewing as she opened a kitchen drawer. It was filled with pill bottles. She grabbed a bottle of painkillers. Not the best way to start a day, but how else was she supposed to get back to normal? This headache was making her go crazy. The bottle opened with a slight pop, and she shook the bottle against her palm. A barrage of white pills flooded onto it. The coffee maker sputtered, coughing out the dark liquid into the stained glass pot. Jemma stared at her palm, then back at the black computer screen. Her gaze shifted to the empty walls where the articles had been stripped.
Is this what life is?
A heaviness filled the room. It was as if the four corners of her apartment shrunk in, trapping her in this existence she didn’t know how to leave. Wasn’t allowed to leave. Jemma blinked several times, head woozy, an invisible band stretching tighter against her forehead. She pressed a palm against her temple.
Definitely more than one pill today, perhaps. One…two…three…?
Jemma lifted a hand to place the pills in her mouth when a loud knock came on her door. The pills dropped from her hand, scattering on the ground. Who’d be visiting at this hour? Tentatively, she went to the door, hoping whoever was there would just go away. It was too early.
Another series of rapid knocks.
The clock read 7:49 AM
She didn’t have time for this.
The person continued knocking.
Irritated, Jemma went toward the door and yanked it open, wanting to give whoever it was a piece of her mind. A rush of frigid air blasted at her. Her eyes widened in surprise. The apartment hallway was frosted over with snow. She wrapped her arms around her torso as another gust of air blasted at her, pushing a gust of snowdrift into her apartment.
“Morning, Jem!”
At the end of the hallway, the little green amphibian with pointed furry ears waved at her. The creature gestured with its skinny green arm for Jemma to come forward.
“Hurry up, we haven’t got all day!” She disappeared out of sight around the corner. When Jemma didn’t move, the creature peeked back around, ears attentive and alert. “You coming?”
Snowdrifts danced magically around the hall. Icicles formed around all the door frames. Jemma backed inside and slammed the door shut, her chest tightening. She leaned against the door, placing a hand against chest and took a few breaths, trying to calm herself down. She glanced over at the coffeemaker that was still sputtering, and the pills were on the floor. A beep came from the computer, as if it were booting itself up. Its screen flickered on, and a sound of a dozen notifications popped up, urgent bleeping, as if beckoning her to attend to them immediately.
Someone knocked on the door again. “Jemma?” It was the creature. “You need to get out of there before greyfall comes.”
The notification grew louder, demanding her assistance. Her fingers itched to make the noise go away.
On the other side of the door, the creature yelled, voice slightly panicked. “Come on, Jem. We need you. Alric needs you.”
Alric.
The monitor flashed. The pinging of messages increased. Her headache pounded worse than before. She leaned against the door, pushing a hand to her head.
“Jem, just open the door,” the creature said, pleading.
“Go away,” Jemma groaned, wishing things would just go back to normal. She paused at the thought.
Normal?
The computer screamed with notifications. The apartment walls closed in. The grayness seemed to seep through her body, and the only way to rid of it was the daily use of pills. Did she want that feeling of “normal”? The feeling there was nothing to look forward to?
Slowly, Jemma opened the door, fighting against her instinct that this was crazy and she should ignore the whole thing.
The creature stared up at her with its wide, water-filled eyes. Her ears perked up with a hopeful expression. “I thought you weren’t going to answer,” she sniffled. “I thought you were letting him win.”
Him? Did she mean Matt? Rather than ask what the creature meant, doubtful she would get a straight answer, Jemma asked.
“So where is Alric?”
Jemma folded her arms over her chest, waiting to see what answer this creature would come up with.
“Cloud World, remember?” The creature beamed, as if it were obvious.
Jemma almost wanted to roll her eyes. A made-up land she and Alric created when they were kids? She played along. “Yeah, but where is that?”
“Follow me,” the creature scurried off down the hall, surprisingly quick for someone so small.
Welp. Here goes nothing.
Jemma was about to follow, but paused, glancing at her cotton purple pajamas, the cold ripping through its soft material, socks soaking through the cold floor. Thinking of getting changed before going who knows where, Jemma glanced back at her apartment. The computer still blared with its messages, the coffee bubbling in its pot, and the shoebox left on the table. It was as if it were trying to lull her back into its shadowy grip. She hesitated, something telling her that if she returned, she might not want to come back out.
Jemma looked back to where the creature was frantically beckoning her to follow.
Well, I guess if this is real, I’ll find out soon enough.
She smirked at the thought.
Or they’ll admit me into some mental institution.
Jemma stepped out into the hall. The apartment door slammed itself shut behind her. And vanished.
Interesting. She mused and continued forward. Jemma walked down the hall, footsteps sloshing through the snow. Maybe this was happening because she took too many meds yesterday. The therapist would want to know about whatever this was, and she was sure her dosage would be changed accordingly.
If I ever talk about this. She scoffed. This is mental.
Jemma was halfway down the hall when a loud crack sounded beneath her.
The creature’s eyes grew wide. “Jem, wait — !”
Underneath her was a floor of ice. It cracked across the entire hallway, and something that shouldn’t have been possible happened. Jemma fell through the floors of the apartment, plunging into an icy darkness.
Gettin' Real 