There's A Hidden Room In My House, It Leads To Another Dimension | Part 2
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Yeah, a lot of old houses like this have spaces walled over. Ian, the contractor, said as he patted the wall.

He lifted a square metal box and patted that as well. "That's why I invested in this thing. Wall-penetrating radar." "Radar? Like they use with airplanes?" I asked. "I thought radars had to be huge. They make small units like this, so guys like me don't go knocking down walls before seeing what's behind them." Ian said. "Not that I can really see anything."

"It'll mainly tell me if there is open space behind the wall, and any significant objects I need to be aware of." "So with that thing, you can tell us what's behind there?" I asked. "Without having to tear down the wall?" "That's the idea, yeah," Ian said. He flipped a switch on the box, and a light hum could be heard in the hallway. "I'll show you." Ian walked to the wall and pressed the box up against it.

A small screen with basic black and white graphics lit up on the side of the box facing Ian and me. "Huh," Ian said as he moved the box back and forth, up and down, across the wall's surface. "That was easy. What do you see?" I asked, puzzled by the primitive image on the box. "Nothing," Ian said. He turned the box off and set it on the floor, then wrapped his knuckles against the wall. "It's empty in there, all right."

"But it's not echoing. Is echoing good or bad?" I asked. "Well, it means this wall is pretty thick," Ian said, still rapping and tapping against the surface. "Or this wall," and he used air quotes for wall, "isn't a wall at all and is a door. It'd have to be a thick door for it to block out any hollow echo. Can that thing tell you?" I asked and pointed at the box.

"Nah," Ian said, and shrugged as he withdrew his knuckles from the wall. "I'd have to do a little digging." "Digging?" "I need to find a seam and cut along that, then remove the drywall and see what's behind there," Ian said. "I can do it, but it'll take at least a week of careful cutting and removal so I don't mess up the renovations that were done." He stepped back and turned in a slow circle. "They did a good job.

"Do you know who worked on it?" he asked. "No clue," I said. "You should find that out," Ian said. "It may have already been covered up when they worked on it. But you never know, they could have done this and might even have pictures or something." "Really?" I was pretty hopeful for pictures. That would chill Melissa out if she could see the inside of the space without us having to pay someone to cut through the wall. Well, it would chill me out at least.

"Just let me know what you want to do," Ian said, and gathered his gear. "I have some openings coming up. Might even be able to squeeze you in next week. Call me. Yeah, I'll do that," I said. "Thanks." I saw Ian out, then went back up and studied the wall. I did my own knuckle wrapping, but Ian was completely correct. There was no echo. You'd have no idea it was hollow on the inside.

I texted Melissa what Ian had told me and waited for her answer. I knew she was slammed, getting her new space at the dental practice set up, so it would probably be an hour or so before I heard from her. There was one thing I could do in the meantime, but I wasn't exactly happy about it. "Well, hello there, neighbor," Jonathan said after opening his front door. "What brings you by? Need a cup of sugar?"

"What?" I asked. "Oh, that's just an old gag from the past," he said. "Neighbors borrowing cups of sugar." "Um, okay," I said and smiled like I understood the joke, which I didn't. "Can I ask you a question?" "Of course. Who was the contractor who did the renovation work on our house?" Jonathan frowned, then looked up at the sky as if he was dredging up an ancient memory. "I know it started with a K," he said.

Kinsey or Kinesaw or Klein or something like that. He looked back down at me and his eyes lit up. "Are you going to open the wall?" he asked with way too much enthusiasm. "Maybe," I said. "The contractor I hired used wall-penetrating radar and says it's hollow in there. That's exciting," Jonathan replied and clapped his hands together. "There could be a whole other world in there."

At that moment in time, I should have heard the real tone in his voice. If I had, maybe I would have had one more chance to stop all this. But I didn't hear the tone. I didn't know Jonathan well enough. I hadn't found out exactly what kind of person he was yet. "What does Melissa think?" Jonathan asked. At that moment, my phone rang. "I'm about to find out," I said. "I'll talk to you later, Jonathan. Thanks."

I answered the phone and walked back to my house. "Hey babe," I said. "How's work?" "Busy, busy, busy," she said. "What'd the contractor say?" "Didn't you get my text?" I asked. "Yes, but that was you texting," she replied. "I want the real scoop. Let me hear your feelings." "I'm feeling pretty good after last night," I said with a smile. "Nope, not the time," she responded and my smile faded. "The contractor. Talk."

I think his main advice was to call the previous contractor and see what they know, which I'll do as soon as I can find them. "Maybe Jonathan knows," she said. "I already asked, and he knows it started with a K," I said, then heard a lot of noise on her end. "Everything okay there?" she said with a sigh. "The new chairs aren't working, and the rinse lines are leaking. I should probably go. I'll talk to you later." She hung up before I could say goodbye.

I went into the kitchen and plopped down at the table so I could begin my search. Three phone calls later, I finally reached Kinison Construction, and the receptionist told me that they had worked on our house. She transferred the call to the owner right away. "This is Gordon. Who am I speaking to?" A gruff voice answered. "I'm Nick Baker, and I moved into the…" I started to say. "My receptionist told me…" The man interrupted. "What do you need, Mr. Baker?"

Well, it seems there's a wall next to the upstairs bathroom that may be covering over... I started again. There is. The voice interrupted again. It's covered for a reason. Then he hung up. I stared at my phone for a second and called back. I spoke to the receptionist and mentioned I had been cut off. She said that Mr. Kinison had left for the day and wouldn't be back until the morning. Then she hung up on me. What the fuck? And muttered.

Since I was in the kitchen, I fixed myself a sandwich and carried it upstairs. While munching on the sandwich, I studied the wall's edge, hoping to find a seam. But no luck. It was sealed over tight. I finished the sandwich, then turned to walk away. Knock, knock, knock. I froze, halfway through chewing the last bite of my sandwich. Slowly, I turned on my heel and stared at the wall. "Hello?" I called out.

The knocking happened again and I jumped. "No, no, uh-uh," I said and raced down the stairs. "Not today, Satan!"

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The Locked Door.

Ian tipped his hat back and rubbed his forehead for a moment before looking over at us. "That's a door with a bad lock on it," Ian stated, describing what we could clearly see for ourselves as we all held up our phones and shone flashlights into the newly revealed space. "That's a big lock," Melissa said. "You can say that again," Ian said and readjusted his hat.

"You usually only see locks like that on industrial sites. Really want to stop thieves from stealing your shit. They are nearly indestructible." "Can't you use bolt cutters?" I asked. "Nope." Ian replied. "Too thick? You'd need a metal saw for that. Diamond blade only. Bolt cutters might do the trick if you were built like the rock. And that's a huge maybe. Guys like you and I would barely scratch the thing.

"Probably just end up breaking our wrists." "Damn," I said and stared at the door. Then I noticed something, just as I turned my head to look at Melissa. I looked back at the door and turned off my flashlight. "Turn yours off," I said. Ian turned his off. "What is it?" Melissa asked. "I don't know," I replied and took a step closer to the opening in the wall. Melissa turned her flashlight off and I tried not to gasp. The door was just barely outlined in light

light that was obviously coming from the other side. "Uh, it must be open to the outside," Ian said, but I could tell by the tone in his voice that he didn't believe it. "Do you all have a balcony on that side?" "No, there is no balcony on the side of our house," Melissa said. "There is no door on the side of our house. You've checked?" I asked, not meaning to be a smartass. Melissa smacked me on the arm.

Then we all jumped and took a couple of steps back as someone knocked from the other side of the door. "Hello?" A voice called, muffled and quiet. It was a thick door. "Mmmmm." Was all Ian said as he slowly started to gather his tools, his eyes only leaving the door briefly so he could back up. "Yeah, I'm gonna go." "But what about the lock?" Melissa asked. "Do you have a metal saw with a diamond blade?"

"No," Ian said, but I didn't believe him. I also didn't blame him for lying. I'd want to get the hell out of there too if I was him. Melissa stepped into what I can only call a closet. That's what it looked like. A closet that had a locked door in it. A closet someone had walled up from this side. "Careful," I said to Melissa. Ian had all of his gear picked up and stowed. He looked at Melissa's back as she stepped closer to the door, then looked at me.

"I'll invoice you," he said. Then he glanced around. "Sorry for the mess I'm leaving. I'll give you a good discount. You're really just gonna leave?" I asked. The knock came again, and Melissa jerked and let out a little squeak of a scream. "Yep, I'm gonna leave," Ian said, and did just that. I watched him struggle to carry everything in one trip. Then he was lost from sight as he turned and went down the stairs.

When I heard the door slam shut, I spun around and was surprised to see my wife standing on our side of the door, her hand lifted, ready to knock. "Don't," I said. "Why not?" Melissa asked without looking back at me. "I don't know," I said. "Just don't. It doesn't feel right." "I think it does," Melissa said. At that time, she looked over her shoulder at me. "There is something important on the other side of this door, Nick. I know it."

"Please," I said as a shiver ran through me. The more I was around the door, the more I felt like something was pulling at me. Not like a calling, but like an actual pulling. It was as if all I had to do was let go and that door would swing wide open and I'd be sucked through into whatever was on the other side. "Not now!" Jonathan shouted from downstairs, making me jump again. Melissa was stock still though. She hadn't jumped or jerked or been surprised.

"We're up here," Melissa called. I heard Jonathan's footsteps on the stairs, and when I turned around to greet him, I wasn't expecting to see the huge grin on his face. "You opened it," he said, his voice calm and filled with excitement and awe. He rushed past me without even a greeting. He didn't stop at the edge of the wall opening. He went straight in and stood shoulder to shoulder with Melissa, the two of them filling the space from wall to wall.

It's locked, he said with disappointment. I have bolt cutters. The contractor said bolt cutters won't work, I said. The two of them stood there, silent. I clapped my hands and they both jumped that time. Jesus, Nick, Melissa said, turning to glare at me. I'm hungry, I said. And we're not getting in there anytime soon. So how about we go downstairs and have a little... The knock came again and Jonathan squealed.

He actually squealed, like a teen girl getting her first iPhone. I'm so close, he said. What was that? I asked. Jonathan slowly turned to look at me, and I didn't need an inner voice to know the man was stark raving mad, like ten kinds of cuckoo.

Yeah, he'd seemed weird since we met him, but when I saw the look in his eye that day, I knew he was batshit nuts. "Let's have lunch," I said in my dad voice, a voice I hadn't used in a very long time. And even when our son was alive, I rarely used it. He was such a good kid. He would sit and color with crayons for hours. Melissa gave me a look. I could see the pain in her eyes as she recognized my tone.

I half expected her to lash out at me, but she gave me a small smile instead and walked away from the door. "I'll make sandwiches," she said as she walked by me, brushing my arm with her fingertips. "Egg salad all right with everyone?" "That'd be great, babe," I said, my eyes on Jonathan. He'd returned his attention to the door and was lifting his hand to knock. "Don't," I said, and he paused. Then he moved again. "I said don't." He paused once more and looked back at me.

"Aren't you curious?" he asked, the madness so easy to see. "Curious, terrified, confused, angry?" "Angry? Why?" "The previous owner should have told us about this," I said. "The contractor who did the renovations should have told us about this. That door isn't right."

"It's just a door," Jonathan said, and he almost knocked. "Stop!" I shouted, then rushed forward and pulled Jonathan out of the empty space. "Unhand me!" Jonathan snapped and jerked away from my grip. "Never put hands on me again! Never ignore me in my own fucking house!" I snapped back. Jonathan glared at me. I couldn't say then if he had murder in his eyes, but looking back now, yes, I'm sure murder wasn't too far from his mind.

That man was not going to stop. "I'll leave," he said, and pushed past me to the stairs. "Goodbye." I waited until I heard him leave before I went downstairs. I found Melissa in the kitchen standing at the fridge with the door wide open. She was just standing there doing nothing. She hadn't even pulled the bread out yet. "Mel?" I asked quietly. She turned, and her eyes were full of tears. "I felt him," she whispered. "I'm sorry, what?" I asked.

"I felt him, Nick," she said. "Baz, I felt him on the other side of that door." What she said nearly made me fall to my knees. How could she say something like that? I shook my head. "No, Mel, you didn't," I said and kept shaking my head. "Sebastian is gone, babe. Whatever is on the other side of that door, it's not our boy." "Then what is on the other side?" she asked. "I don't know, but you can't think it's our dead son, can you?" I replied with a little too much force.

I saw the crack in her the instant the words left my mouth. "Shit, I'm sorry," I said and went to her. She slammed the fridge door closed and walked out of the kitchen and into the backyard without a word. I chased after her. "Mel, stop," I said and grabbed her arm once we were off the back steps and on the grass. "I felt him," Melissa hissed. "That's insane," I said and held up a hand.

"I don't mean you are insane. I mean that there is no way our son can be on the other side of that door. He died, Mel. It's not possible." "Not possible?" She laughed and grabbed my wrist. Then she dragged me around to the side of the house and pointed up at the second floor. "There is a door inside that leads to somewhere, Nicholas. Do you see a door in the side of our house up there?" "No," I said. "But maybe it's covered over by the siding." "Then how is there light coming from around it?" she asked.

How did we hear someone knocking? What we are experiencing is not possible. And you say what I felt in my soul is not possible. Yet, here we are. Mel. I felt him, Nick! She shouted, then shook her head and returned to the backyard. I stared up at the side of our house where there was definitely not a door. Then I walked back around and found her sitting on the back steps, her head in her hands. So, what do we do? I asked.

"We open it," she said, looking up at me. "No," I replied. "I don't think that's a good idea. We need to know more. We can't just open it. Who knows what's on the other side? Our son!" Melissa said with a certainty I knew I couldn't explain away in a million years. We were like that for several minutes, me staring down at her, she staring up at me. Finally, I sighed and said, "I'll see if I can find an expert.

"What kind of expert?" she asked. "I don't know," I said and waved my hands about. "A psychic, or a medium, or a witch, or what the fuck ever." "A witch?" Melissa asked, a small smile at the corners of her lips. "No, no, you don't get to make me out as the crazy one here," I said. "So I'm the crazy one?" she asked, and the smile grew. "Yes, yes you are," I said and sat down next to her. She rested her head on my shoulder,

"I'm right," she said. I didn't argue. Then I looked over to the side of our property and tried not to react. Jonathan was staring at us from his back porch. His eyes focused on me. He did not look happy.

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The woman was younger than I thought she'd be, probably in her mid-thirties, pretty with long brown hair and dark green eyes. She wore jeans and a cut-off t-shirt, not flowing skirts like I had expected. "Thank you for coming," Melissa said, and extended her hand as the woman stepped into our house. "I'm Melissa, and this is Nick. Gloria," the woman said, and shook Melissa's hand, then mine.

She brushed by us and turned in a slow circle, her chin up, her eyes closed. Then she stopped and faced the stairs. The door is up here? She asked, pointing at the stairs. Yes. Melissa said. Gloria responded. Huh? What does huh mean? I asked. I said payment up front over the phone. Gloria said. Right. I'll get my... I started to say. Before you pay me, I need to be honest. Gloria interrupted.

"Honest about what?" Melissa asked. "I don't feel any presence in your house," Gloria said. "Some residual energy here and there, like all houses have, but there is no entity or spirit present." "So what does that mean?" I asked. "That means I can leave now and only charge you for my trip over," Gloria said. "Or I can go upstairs, charge you full price, and then tell you that your house is not occupied by spirits."

"Right, but I never thought it was," I said and looked at Melissa. Gloria frowned at me. "Then why did you call me?" she asked, confused. "We didn't know who else to call," Melissa said. "What we're dealing with is strange. You deal in strange. We thought you might have some insight." "Into a locked door?" Gloria asked. "A door where someone knocked from the other side?" We nodded. "Locked doors and people knocking aren't strange occurrences," she said.

"Just come upstairs and look," I said. "We'll pay full price." Gloria shrugged and waited for us to go first. When we got to the space, Gloria cocked her head. She looked about the open hole in the wall, then took a cautious step inside. "Where does this lead?" she asked, nodding at the locked door. "Is there a balcony?" "No balcony," I said. "We don't know where it leads." "So it just opens up onto air?" Gloria asked and got closer to the door.

"There's no door on the side of our house," I said. "I told you that over the phone." "I know, but I like to make sure I have all the information," she said, looking over her shoulder at me. Then there was a knock from the other side of the door. "And there's that," I said. Gloria slowly looked back at the door. She placed a palm on the wood. The knock came again, then a quiet voice asked, "Hello?" Gloria shuddered and pulled her hand back.

"That is not a spirit," Gloria said, backing away from the door. "That's a living person." She whirled around and her eyes were wide. "Why do you have a woman locked up in your house?" she asked. "What?" Melissa replied. "We don't have... I should call the police," she said and shoved past us. "What for?" I called after her as she raced to the stairs and hurried down them. "We called you for help!"

The front door opened, then slammed closed, leaving Melissa and I standing there, confused as hell. "What just happened?" I asked. "I don't know," Melissa said. There was another knock, and the quiet voice called out. "Who's there?" We stared at the door. "What do we do?" Melissa asked. "No clue. Someone is on the other side." "Yup." We waited, but there was no more knocking and no more voices.

"I'm making dinner," Melissa said and turned and left, leaving me alone with the door. "I'll help," I said and turned and fled that damn door. We ate dinner silently. We got ready for bed and brushed our teeth silently. Neither of us knew what to do or say. I locked the bedroom door, then made sure the bathroom door to the hall was locked too. Melissa was in bed when I returned and she looked at me, bewilderment in her eyes.

"I know," I said and shook my head. "I mean, I don't know." I took a deep breath. "Um, with all of this going on, I forgot that I have to leave tomorrow," I said. "I have to drive into the city and talk with my editor." "In person?" Alyssa asked. "Is everything alright?" "I think so," I said. "Dorothy just wanted to see me in person and touch base." "You're going for the free lunch, aren't you? It doesn't hurt," she asked and pointed toward the hallway.

"What about it?" I replied. I could swear I heard the knocking, but it could have just been my mind messing with me. "We need to do something," Melissa said. "Yeah, we do," I said. "Except I don't know what to do." Melissa was quiet for a bit, then she leaned over and turned out the bedside lamp, plunging us into darkness. I know I slept some because I remember having vivid dreams about the door and the mystery knocker.

But my memories of that night are really mostly of an empty space next to me in the bed, the bedroom door wide open, and a hint of light coming from all the way downstairs. "Mel?" I called. There was no answer. I slid out of bed and pulled my shorts on. Then I walked out of the room and gave the hole in the wall a quick look and stopped. I went back to the hole. There was no light around the door. Of everything we'd witnessed, that fact was the most troubling.

Did no light mean it was dark there too? That's when I heard the whispers. Not from the door, but coming from downstairs. Most people think whispers are quiet. They aren't. I carefully made my way downstairs without the steps creaking. Then I slowly walked toward the sound of the whispers. The kitchen. When I reached the kitchen door, I found Melissa and Jonathan sitting at the table huddled close and whispering to each other.

Melissa had her back to me, and Jonathan was staring so intently at her that he didn't notice me come in. Um, hi, I said, startling them both. I'm glad you came back, Jonathan, but couldn't you have waited until later? I glanced at the clock on the microwave. It's 4.30 in the morning. I couldn't sleep, Melissa said. I saw Jonathan outside in his backyard. I couldn't sleep either, Jonathan said.

Then Melissa turned and looked at me, and I was puzzled by her expression. It was excitement. It was elation. It was hope like I hadn't seen in her in a long while. "'What am I missing?' I asked. "'Jonathan knows what's on the other side of the door,' she said. "'Does he?' I asked and looked at Jonathan. "'Not surprising. Maybe Jonathan could have told us that before he stormed out of here like a little—' "'My wife,' Jonathan said. "'And your son.'

My knees went weak, but I managed to stay on my feet. "What did you say?" I asked. "I was right, Nick," Melissa said. "Our son is on the other side." "Our son died, Mel," I said as gently as I could. Then I added a little steel in my voice when I said to Jonathan, "And so did your wife." "Yes, yes, true," Jonathan said. "But there are other versions of them." He pointed a finger at the ceiling. "On the other side of that door."

"Right, sure, yeah," I said, and gestured to the back door. "I think it's time to go, Jonathan. Just listen to him, Nick," Melissa pleaded. "I can be an asshole when I want, but I knew that wasn't the time. I was so wrong." I took a seat and leaned back in the chair, my eyes on Jonathan. "Talk," I said. "Do you know what I did before I retired?" Jonathan asked. I shook my head. "I was a physicist.

And while it wasn't my field, it had always been a hobby of mine. "What had?" I asked. "Parallel universes," he said. "Different dimensions. Spaces of existence just beyond the veil of our own." "Oh," I said, and nodded like I knew what the hell he was talking about. "And you think there's a different dimension on the other side of that door?"

"I do, I do," he replied enthusiastically. "A place identical to our own. A place where…" He trailed off and looked at Melissa. "A place where our loved ones are still alive. Assuming this isn't a dream I'm having, and everything you're saying is true. Why?" I asked. "Why what?" Jonathan replied, puzzled. "Why do you think our loved ones are alive?" I asked.

"Because that's my wife knocking," Jonathan said. "That's her saying hello." "We need to cut the lock and open the door," Melissa said. "Baz is there too." "Jesus Christ," I said and shook my head. I tried to say something else. I tried to explain how I thought it was all crazy talk, but the reality was, there was a fucking locked door upstairs that did not lead to the outside of our house, and someone was definitely knocking and saying hello from the other side.

I rubbed my face a few times then stood up. "I'm going to shower and get dressed," I said. "I have to drive into the city and meet with my editor." "We need to open it," Melissa insisted. "I get that, Mel," I said. "I really do. But how about we take a step back and wait until I get back from the city, okay?" I looked back and forth between them. "Can we agree on that for the time being?" I asked. "We wait until I'm back, then we come up with some sort of plan."

"She sounds scared," Jonathan said. "My wife needs me." "Isn't there a U on that side too?" I asked. "Doesn't she have that U to go to?" "Maybe I'm dead in that dimension," Jonathan said. "A reverse of what happened here in ours. It's too early to guess at the population dynamics of some dimension behind a locked door in my house," I said. "I'm showering, then going to get on the road so I beat morning traffic into the city. We're doing nothing about the door until I get back.

Neither of them responded, which was not a good sign. "Please Mel?" I asked. "Wait." She sighed and nodded. "Cool." I said and tried to smile at Jonathan. "Good to see you, Jonathan. We'll talk later, okay?" Jonathan got the hint and got up. He nodded at the two of us, then left through the back door. I leaned down and kissed the top of Mel's head. "We'll get it figured out," I said. "After I get back from this city." "Okay." She said.

I left and went back upstairs to make good on my plans. Of course, I paused in front of the locked door. When a light suddenly came on and leaked out around the edges of the door, I retreated from the space quickly. Someone had just gotten up on that side too. The mistake. We were sitting in Cardinals, an upscale bistro in Midtown, when we heard the thunder. Except it wasn't thunder. It was more like a cracking and tearing sound.

Dorothy, my editor, looked at me, a forkful of salad halfway to her mouth. The knot thunder erupted overhead again, and everyone in the bistro went silent. There was no more clinking of silverware on plates or quiet conversation. All we heard was that horrible tearing and cracking sound over some easy-listening music channel being pumped through the bistro's speakers. "What the shit is that?" Dorothy asked. Just as the entire bistro erupted into questions and loud inquiries,

"No clue," I said. Then my phone rang. "It's Mel," I said and held up a finger. "Give me a sec." I answered, and before I could say hello, Mel was screaming and crying in my ear. "I'm sorry," she shouted over the phone. "Nick, I'm so sorry." "Mel, what's wrong?" I asked. "What are you sorry about? What's going on?" The cracking roared above us, and the light outside began to turn a dark purple. People started getting up from their tables to go look out the bistro's windows.

"We made a huge mistake!" Melissa cried. "Jonathan was right, but he was so, so, so wrong!" "Jesus Christ!" I said. "You opened the door, didn't you?" "I'm so sorry!" Melissa cried again. "He didn't know!" A woman in the corner of the bistro screamed. I turned to look, as did most of the bistro, and all I could do was stare.

Right there in front of our eyes, the woman just broke apart. She didn't dissolve or melt or turn into fleshy mush. She broke apart into a trillion, trillion molecules. Then those molecules floated up through the bistro ceiling and were gone from sight. The panic was instant. Customers in the bistro bolted from their tables and out the door. At least two of them broke apart as they ran.

My attention returned to the phone. Mel, what is going on? I asked. Jonathan explained it to me. Melissa said. Before... Before what? I asked, knowing the answer and not wanting to hear her say it. Before he just wasn't there anymore. I glanced across the table, and Dorothy wasn't there anymore either. All I saw was her fork clattering on the salad plate and molecules drifting up.

Without a thought, I got up and out of that bistro as fast as I could. I was running to the car lot where my car was, my phone still to my ear. "Tell me what he said!" I shouted over the cracking noise that raged around me. "He said he screwed up!" Melissa said. "You didn't realize that you can't move between dimensions. He said that the law of conservation of energy couldn't be broken like that. What the hell does that mean?" I yelled just as I reached the car lot.

A man in a green Mercedes nearly took me out as he crashed through the lot's gate without paying. "It was his wife!" Melissa screamed. "She was there, Nick! And she went to Jonathan immediately! But the second she stepped through the door to him, everything went wrong!" "Okay, okay, why did it all go wrong?" I yelled as I dodged other cars fleeing the lot. "Dimensions, Nick!" Melissa cried. "When she left there, she left a void in the entire order of that dimension! Then by being here,

And then her voice was gone. "Mel? Melissa?" I yelled. "Melissa!" I stared at the phone and could see the call was still active, just that Melissa was no longer there. I found my car, jumped inside, and raced out of the car lot as fast as I could.

The drive back was hell. The sky had gone completely purple and black lightning streaked across it at random intervals. The roads were packed with cars that had stalled out or crashed because the drivers were no longer in them. For the 50 minute journey home, all I saw was a steady stream of molecules pouring up into the sky like a reverse rainfall.

Then I made it home and barely had the car parked and turned off before I jumped out of it and raced inside the house. Melissa! I screamed as I sprinted up the stairs. No! When I got to the hole in the wall, all I found was an extension cord and a discarded saw and the door wide open. She's gone. The man standing on the other side of the door said, I saw it happen. I'm sorry. Then I saw the boy standing next to him, clutching onto his leg, a box of crayons in his hand.

Baz. The now. The end. "Do you get it now?" I ask the other me sitting in a chair on the other side of the door, as our son colors in a book at his feet. He nods, but doesn't say anything back. I don't blame him. "What's there to say?" "Thank you for letting me explain," I say. He nods again and looks down at the boy. It's been 26 hours since the nightmare began. The news organizations don't know what to say.

The government doesn't know what to say. No one knows what to say. We just wait while our worlds, our universes, our dimensions disintegrate around us. The cracking coming from his side is worse than the cracking coming from my side. The light in his dimension is no longer purple, but a dark, dark red bordering on black. The light in mine is not as red, but it's getting close. There's nothing we can do to stop it. All we can do is sit here and look at each other.

until we can't anymore. The other Mii's eyes go wide and he tries to stand up, but he barely makes it an inch or so off the seat before he's gone. The boy, Sebastian, Baz, he looks at the empty chair and he looks at me. "Come here, Baz," I say and stand up. I walk toward the door. Baz drops his crayons, looks at the empty chair again, and stands up too. He crosses into the space and I hurry to him so I can pick him up in my arms.

What does it matter now if he's in my dimension? It's all fucked anyway. I might as well get a hug from my dead child before the world ends and we both break apart and drift.