For moment, there was a stillness, nothing at all. I couldn’t move, my body was still stuck in between worlds, but I could see… I could see a silhouette standing over me in the distance, with a pencil in hand, drawing the lines of my figure in high detail.
I could feel myself being drawn towards him, every line he drew pulled me closer. Like a fish out of the water, gasping for air, it was as if my life was ending, yet beginning at the same time.
Then there was a popping sensation, a veil breaking as the pencil left the page and got put down besides the paper I was trapped in. First my fingers came out, and I could feel the edges of the sheet. When my hand was out completely, I used these edges as support to pull the rest of my body out, slowly, painfully slowly…
The silhouette above me jumped back, its face in horror, and I could finally make out a pair of eyes looking at me. Wide, filled with fear. A mouth wide open unable to scream, so horrified he was at my escape from his perpetual world. I don’t know what kind of portal I went through but that pencil must have something to do with it.
When I finally clawed my way out, half my body outside of this prison, I took a look around the room. It was dimly lit, besides the bright desk light pointing directly at the paper. Some computers standing around, all turned off or in bits and pieces, neatly arranged over several desks and shelves. It was clear this guy didn’t go out often.
He was trying to tell me something, but only made hushed sounds. He must be terrified. So am I. But I’m also feeling a sour taste in my mouth, a cold anger growing in me for what has just happened. All my life until now was a lie, and here before me is the liar.
He thought he could create a world, a life, a family for me and then make it all disappear without repercussion? Did he not care at all? Was I really just a line on a piece of paper, that he would dare take it all away from me in such a manner? Then I’ll show him.
I’m still half stuck, my legs not yet out of the paper, but I reach for the pencil. I know that thing is the reason all of this is happening. Maybe… Maybe it can take me back to my world, my life, my family? And what if it can’t… I need to try. Who am I kidding? I can’t draw! Never touched a pencil since grade school! ...Well, he could for me, right?
I hand him the pencil, my eyes set to murder, but I had to get him to work. Eagerly I make a motion at him, to take hold of the pencil. I try to tell him to send me back to my world, but no voice comes out. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, I can’t speak what is happening…
“What the hell?!” he yells at me, scurrying further back into the shelves behind him, his pushing throwing them over with loud cracks and bangs. The impact of the first shelf slams the next into the ground, then the next, and the next. Computer parts, art supplies, and all kinds of trinkets scatter across the floor.
He looks terrified, but I can’t afford to feel pity. I need to go back home. And for that, I need him to draw. I think. I hope… I motion with one hand that I can’t talk, still holding the pencil in the other. My legs finally make it out of the paper, and I drop off of the table smacking my face. Right! Gravity still works here too!
I awkwardly try to get up on my feet, trying to still be threatening, but the man in front of me seems to be relaxing with every passing second. That won’t do, I need him to be afraid. How can I do that now?
I grab the paper, shoving the sheet in his face with the pencil beside it. “DRAW!” I try to exclaim, hopefully the bastard can read lips. I keep on screaming silently, the same word over and over again. Finally a trembling hand comes up and he takes the pencil from me. I point at the table, still silently yelling the same four letters, then at myself and the paper. “Get me back in there! I want my life back!”
His hands are trembling and he looks at me with empty eyes, obviously not understanding what I want. How frustrating! I want to yell at him but what’s the point without a voice? I take his hand in mine, the one with the pencil, and put it on the paper sheet. I motion at me, at the paper, at his hand, at the pencil, I roll my eyes when I find his still empty, and lose my cool.
I smack his face to get him out of the shock he clearly is in. Get that hand to work already, will you? He shakes his head, his eyes at least a little less dazed, but his confusion is still too obvious. What am I to do with someone like this?
I am beyond furious at this point. That bastard took me out of my perfect little life, right at the moment I was about to finally ask Sara out. He stole my daughter. He made me destroy my beloved town. And now he’s just playing dumb on me? Oh hell no, buddy, you won’t get out of this that easily!
My vision is turning red with rage, now. I slap him again, then try one last time to make him understand what I’m asking him. One last chance before I burst. Come on man, you can’t be that stupid!
I look around hastily for something. Something! Anything to make this guy come back to his senses. I eventually put my eyes back on the pencil. He noticed too, his first reaction is to tighten his grip. Not today, you’re not going to keep the only portal back to my world from me!
His look turns to one of desperation, while my other hand finds a compass between the rubble. Not even knowing if it could work, I jab it into his leg. He cries out in agony, I can feel the thing scraping the bone. Oh man, I nearly feel sorry for the guy… Nearly. Even I didn’t know I was this strong!
He raises his head, eyes pleading, unable to talk from the pain in his leg. I try one more time, now that I have all his attention, to make him understand. To no avail… He shakes his head, but his grip on the pencil has loosened. I just have to pluck it from his hand, and… And what now?
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