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Prelude COPYRIGHT2008

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NOTE: 18+ only, Sex does happen, as well as some language.

I used to be a free thinker, and would form theories about nearly everything. Theories of the basis of existence, other life forms, and on fate, and I thought I had it figured out- how this world works. My theory had no flaws, and could be used to explain every major and minor event that has ever happened. Weaving this theory into various stories I had written had gotten me much attention not only from an online-based group of novelists where I had posted many of my stories, but from family members, and even local news. I never knew that I had started something that could very well be why I stand on a pillar amidst a sea of voided darkness.

   Believe it or not, I was once just a normal teenage boy. Well, as normal as a video game loving- hard working- free thinking teenage boy can be. I had a very decent life, living with my Dad and older brother in a house that we had moved into after my Mom passed away. I'm sure you might be expecting to read about how hard it was for us to adapt to life without her, and that every day we had grieved of her loss for a long while. Sorry to disappoint you, but that's not where my story leads. Life progressed nearly as normally as it previously did, the only thing that had really changed was the taste of the evening meal.

   Please, don't get me- or my family wrong. We're not emotionless, and we didn't silently hate her. It's just how the Lendar family works. We adapt very quickly to any changes in our lives, which would explain just how we managed to stay normal, rather than dwell in the past. Our motto is "Life goes on.", because life does just that, it goes on. Life doesn't stop simply because something happens- Whether it be a lost soccer game, or your secret crush turning you down to the school dance, or your Mom dying. It doesn't matter, not to life. It doesn't stop for anything. Also, in our defense, we did grieve her loss for a few hours.

   I'm not ashamed to admit that I have on occasion wondered the most detrimental question to any human beings mental health; What if? What if my mother had lived? Would that have stopped me from forming theories on everything? To not take things into such magnified levels? Or what if I had not publicized my thoughts? Would The Boon still have occurred? Or would it never have happened because I never discovered its possibility? As much as I try, I fail to stop these thoughts, but I suppose I don't have to worry too much about it. Its already happened, and I need to deal with this new body.

   As hard as it might be to write on top a small pillar, with a piece of some sort of burnt material on a few pages of paper that I had in my back pocket, I will do so to chronicle not only how I managed to end up in this situation, but any possible happenings while I'm here.

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An ordinary day for an ordinary person; Maybe it's not so bad, I thought, to be ordinary. Maybe going to school every day isn't as bad as I think it is. I guess I just hoped to be meant to do more than just go to school and become a college-level professor. I sighed lethargically as I sat on the bus for the ride home, mulling things over.

I guess I was wrong.

I dozed off after that thought, and awoke to an unfamiliar student telling me that we were coming to my stop. After performing a graceful stretch and yawn, I exited the bus and started the short walk home. Any outsider to my town would be severely confused why there was snow on the ground in mid-April, but we knew around here that our winters lingered. We've even had a snowstorm at the start of May a few years back.

No, no, our winter's here in Huntersville are a bit off. Hot summers and cold winters, that's our weather patterns. I kicked a small block of icy snow along as I walked- a little game to keep myself occupied. After kicking it into a storm drain- and an angry fist at the heavens, I walked up the familiar steps to my house. My family wasn't rich, no, but it doesn't take money to make a house comfortable. Family photos, group pictures with friends, and all sorts of other knickknacks adorned our walls- but not in the creepy way. No this was the friendly way, with everyone smiling and cheering, the kind of photos that looked like the participants could accept anyone as their friend.

And was the case, as my parents were quite the loving characters. Jillian and Jayson Lendar, proud parents of two wonderful children, I thought in my mind as I glanced at one of the photos while walking by. We all shared a homely three bedroom house, my Dad and brother named Zack slept upstairs, and I took the room in the basement. My Mom has passed away a few years ago now, and we were reminded of it just by walking down the hall and seeing the memories of her. They were all good memories though, and she was always smiling- not just in the pictures.

It's really not as bad as it sounds, I'm not some bastard child that gets locked away and ignored in the basement. Actually I, myself, preferred it to the other rooms. It was nice and cool in the summers, and a cozy warm in the winters. Floored with a fluffy dark green carpet, and there was even a medium-sized den outside of my room if I wanted some more space. I looked around my room for a moment, glancing at the half-made bed, oaken work desk, and TV before walking in completely. I set my book bag on the floor beside my bed and went to fix it, and my suspicions of who intruded my room were confirmed.

I brushed the medium-length golden hair off of my covers before fixing them. Damnit Jake, do you really have to sleep in my bed every time the house is empty? I thought as I took care of it. I forgot to mention to you that we have a dog, a sweet little Golden Retriever named Jake. He's a great dog really, always looking after us. My Dad got him after Mom passed away, and I could swear that sometimes he thinks it's his wife looking over us through Jake. Dad did take her passing the hardest of all of us, though. I naturally assumed that Jake's absence was him moving upstairs to sleep on Dad's bed, as usual- he was never satisfied when he only messed up one bed. I wasn't offended when he didn't come to greet me, he was getting older, and arthritis was beginning to settle in his joints and as such I personally preferred him to just lay down.

"Why's it gotta be Monday." I thought aloud to myself, more of a statement rather than a question. I sat down at the desk and flipped the silver laptop open that was on it, the screen glowing with life. I took a moment to check my email, not entirely sure if I was expecting one or not. Seeing nothing of note I closed the lid and unplugged it from its power cord, then took it out into the den and set it on the couch. I walked across the room to the TV and turned it on, then meandered up the stairs to find something to eat. I took a right at the top of the stairs and walked along the wooden floor, the silence of the house allowing me to hear every creak of it. I entered the kitchen through a doorway on my left, and began the scavenger hunt that was my snack.

I walked downstairs with the spoils of my hunt- a few butter crackers, a glass of milk, and a bright red apple. I set them on the couch next to my laptop and put myself in its place, maneuvering the warm object onto my lap where it was readily welcomed. I dug the silver remote for the TV out of the nooks between the cushions on the couch and flipped it onto the news- mostly for background noise. I then focused my attention onto my laptop and logged onto a familiar website. No new messages, I thought, looks like no one cares about what I might think about things.

I had mentioned earlier that I belonged to an online-based novelist community. Now I was over-inflating that a little bit, as we're all quite amateur in the subject, none of us having actually published anything. It was more of an online site where we could all critique each other on our styles and offer some decent advice or give praise for something we thought was particularly exemplary. I had a habit of posting stories about my thoughts on various subjects on life, Such as the presence of a God, the existence of an afterlife, and the possibility of ghosts. Unfortunately, people didn't exactly see eye to eye with me, and frequently my stories- no matter how good or bad they were- were neglected in the comment area.

Occasionally I would get a newcomer response in my email, but that person was quickly scolded for consorting with me. Today was the same as it's been for over a week now, no comments and no emails. I've stopped letting it bother me, not because I think that I'm better than them though. It doesn't bother me anymore because chances are that they're just afraid to accept something other than the norm, and that would definitely explain why everyone and their mother writes stories with happy endings on this website.

I closed the website and opened up a fresh document, and lay back on the couch for a few moments staring at the ceiling. There are too many loopholes, I thought as I mused over my current theory on how existence works, there are too many loopholes in this. My current thought of how there lay a parallel world in separation from Earth didn't make enough sense. How there is a world that once you pass from Earth you go there but is physically unable to see or interact with. A world that was similar to Earth in size and content, but different as it had been molded by its own timeline.

That didn't explain everything though. That didn't explain ghosts- for one, and as I had personally experienced that the supernatural did indeed interact with this world I- at least for my own mind- had to be able to explain that. If there were no physically way to look at this world and interact with it then we would be unable to see or interact with the supernatural. Unless it were a one-way interaction to the point that only they could interact with us, but even that didn't make sense as to why our spirits would go to that other world when they died. Certainly not everyone's spirit had been seen where the person had passed from this planet, so I need to be able to explain why some of the spirits were left here. Or what if they came back on their own will?

I had thought too many questions to myself and my mind reeled a bit as I stared at the ceiling, but I had to start at the bottom and work my way up. If I could build a solid foundation around my theory I could work my way around that and pick and choose various solutions until I found one that fit all of the problems. I knew that I had a long evening ahead of me, and I knew that sitting here staring at the ceiling wasn't going to shorten it any. I lethargically looked back down at the screen and put my fingers on the keyboard, after a short moment I began working.

It had been at least two hours before I stopped my work on the laptop. I heard the front door open and blinked myself back to reality a few times before closing the laptop. I looked next to me on the couch and it dawned on me that I had completely forgotten about my snack. I placed the laptop vertically next to me against the armrest before standing up to stretch my legs.

"Hey!" I called upstairs, and I heard the thudding on shoes on the wooden floor stop.

"What's up Kevin?" A familiar voice called down the stairs to me.

"Nothing, You know when Dad's gonna be home?" I replied. There was silence for a moment, either he was trying to remember what time Dad might have told him he would be home, or he was trying to make it seem like he knew when he really didn't.

"I think he said sometime around seven." He finally yelled down the stairs before I heard the clunking of his footsteps on the wooden floor again toward the kitchen. I stood up off of the couch and stretched my limbs, unwillingly letting out a yawn that sounded similar to a dog. I strolled back to my bedroom and opened my wooden closet door and picked out a comfortable outfit- loose fitting black cargo pants and a plain brown shirt. I pulled a random pair of boxers out of my dresser on my way out of the room as I walked across the den toward the bathroom.

There are a lot of bonuses to having your own bathroom, one of which is availability. No one ever comes downstairs for much of anything unless they're the dog, and as such the bathroom-complete with shower no less- is always open to me whenever I want to use it. It wasn't very big, nor was it abnormally tiny. It was comfortable, enough space to do what you need to do in it, but not nearly enough for any orgies that you may have planned.

I looked in the full-body mirror against the left wall for a moment after I had taken my slightly sullied sweatshirt and shirt. Looking over my body that was seventeen years in the making, I noticed that I had dropped a little bit of weight, as a faint outline of my abs could now be seen. I had never been one for working out and getting ripped at the gym. I'd do a few pushups every now and then but nothing special, really. I ran a hand through my black hair and toyed with a few of my dark chest hairs before I dropped my arm to my side. It doesn't seem like I've grown very much in the past month or so, standing at the familiar height of six feet two inches. I shrugged my shoulders as I dropped my clothes on the small carpet in front of the sink and started my business of showering, which I doubt I need to go into detail what happens. I apologize to any creepers that may be reading this, but I guarantee it's similar to when you bathe, if you do.

I strolled out of the bathroom, still partially damp. I tossed my dirty clothes into my room from the couch and plopped myself down. I lay back looking at the ceiling- as I usually do when I'm thinking if you haven't noticed- as I thought about my latest possible theory. If there really is another world, I thought, then there has to be some sort of gates or passageways that connect these two together to explain the supernatural. I sighed and looked down at my snack that I had gathered nearly three hours ago, and as I pulled my laptop back across my eyes to open it up I chuckled a small amount to myself that my snack had become my dinner.