Excerpt for Far From Oz by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

Far From Oz Jennifer Lefort

Far From


A Silhouette Novella

Far From Oz

A Silhouette Novella

By Jennifer Lefort

Cover Created on Canva

Copyright ©2017

Printed in the USA

Printed ISBN– 13:

978– 1542705790

ISBN– 10:


Smashwords Edition

All Rights Reserved. This book is a work of fiction created by the author for entertainment. Any references to historical events, places or people are used fictiously. This story is a product of the author’s imagination. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without permission from the author except in the case of quotation.

Only through Darkness can we seek Light


It engulfs me, like a thick wool blanket, and I begin to suffocate. It’s always the same. I can feel the sweat on my skin. Beads flow down my cheek, my hair is plastered to my neck, and my night gown is soaked through. I can feel the pounding of my heart vibrate through my entire body. My breath comes so quickly from the weight of my chest. Every night, it is the same. I fall into The Darkness that threatens to take me.

“You belong to me.” I hear in the blackness of my dream. The voice is still haunting. I want to run, but cannot move. I can’t escape, I can’t hide, and I’m lost. Hope left me long ago. It abandoned me to the nightmare that has attached itself to my very being. “You are mine.”

My mind screams for help, but I know there is none. Fear has claimed my heart. I want to go home! I want out of this Hell! But all I can hear is The Darkness laughing at me. It knows it has won. “You will never escape me.” It says. “You will never be free.”

I can feel my knees buckle. There is no stopping my body. I feel it fall. The Darkness welcomes me and it whispers, “I will never leave you.”

Dorothy Rose

I sit on the edge of my bed, still in my pale blue night gown, only allowing the tips of my toes to touch the cold tile floor. My long brown hair, in need of a good wash, hangs over the side of my face. I lace my fingers while my hands lay in my lap. I have no strength. I have no desire to stand and belong in this world. I look down at my hands. The new bands scratch at my skin, irritating the thin long cuts on my wrist, the signs of my failed attempt to escape.

I can hear the soft knock, but do not care to know who it is. I don’t care for company. I don’t want pity, nor do I want to hear the lies that spill from their lips. There is no fixing me. There is no helping me. There is no escape from the Darkness within me.

“Oh, good… you’re awake.” She doesn’t hide the sigh. I know she among the other nurses don’t care too much for their job. Their words are meant to be caring, but their tone says differently. We are nothing but burdens. They get paid to take care of the sick, but if you ask me they do a shite job of it. Really, who wants to take care of the mentally disturbed?

I hear the tray being placed on my table, but I still don’t move. I know if I sit here quietly long enough, she will do what she needs to and leave me be. I am no threat to them– only to myself.

“Try to eat something today will you dear. I don’t need to remind you what will happen if you don’t.”

I remain silent– unfazed by her words. I know what they will do, and it doesn’t matter if I eat or not. I listen to her aggravated mumbling. She hates being here. This was not the job she wanted. Taking care of people like me, but it was the only job she could get. I listen to her fuss about in my room. Pretending to find things to straighten, but I know she will find nothing. I have nothing. Seen as a hopeless case, I was left here, forgotten. As a last resort to get my attention, the nurse stomps over to my side of the room and pulls the curtains back with more force than needed. The sunlight hits my eyes, but I do not move. I continue to stare at my hands. My eyes trace the thin cuts on my skin, hating myself for failing.

The nurse turns in my direction. She doesn’t say anything, but I can tell she notices my gaze. She stands silent for a moment. I can hear the change in her breath. She wants to say something but decides against it. She walks away from me, “I’ll come back in an hour. Maybe by then, you will want to step outside your dream world and walk among the living.”

I don’t respond. It is best not to. I hear her sigh of frustration, then the click of the door, and finally her footsteps as she leaves me in my silence.

I wasn’t always like this. Most of us here were once normal kids. I had a somewhat normal life. I had a mother who loved me and I loved her. I was her world and she was mine. She loved old films and musicals. Every night we would curl up on the couch and watch one of her favorite films. I’m sure you can guess which one was her favorite. She even named me after the main character. Dorothy.

I have to admit, when I was younger, I grew to dislike my name. Kids would tease me about its origin. But now, I would never change it or be called by any other name. It’s all I have left of her. I still remember the night she left me. It haunts me. Her final words still replay in my mind; threatening to shatter the small pieces of my soul that remain.

The thought of her sends an ache through me. My fingers twitch and my feet touch the cold tile floor, shocking my senses and awakening the memory of what I used to be. I lift my head to the window. The sunlight brightening the small pale white room I now call home. A tear slides down my cheek at the realization that I am still here.

I am awake. I am alone.

Timothy Reign

The sound of the clock’s tick, tick, tick interrupts the silence in Dr. Hamish’s office. I sit, uncomfortable, on his brown leather couch. Facing his empty desk, I wait for the doctor to enter. It is simple to imagine everything that will be said. I’ve been here so long we’ve established a routine, the doctor and I.

First the doctor will ask, “So Timothy, how are we feeling today?”

He will peak up from his round wire frame spectacles to stare at me. What he is looking for is beyond me. He always asks the same question, and I will respond, “As good as I’m meant too.”

Why, you ask, would I say that? Well, because it’s the truth. We are not meant to feel great. We are here because we are sick and they need to fix us. Funny thing is, most of us don’t need to be fixed. It’s true some of my fellow lost causes are not all there. It’s hard to say what’s really wrong with them. We have all suffered from some kind of trauma. But some of us, well, let’s just say we have experiences the norm can’t understand. We are not insane, but to the sane, we are completely mental.

My slippers slid across Dr. Hamish’s brown and red rug. My legs have grown numb from waiting. I start to fiddle with the belt of my white polyester robe. Why is this taking so long? I hear the click of the doorknob. I pretend not to notice. My belt has suddenly become interesting. I hear the sound of his entrants. I count his footsteps to his chair, one, two, three, four, then…right on cue the chair is being pulled back. His papers are placed on the desk. I know all this is taking place because I have seen it so many times. When he is finally settled the scenario my mind plays out time and time again becomes reality, “So Timothy, how are we feeling today?”

I stop playing with my belt. I look up to see him staring over his spectacles–evaluating me as usual. Am I a risk or not? Will I hurt him or myself? I can see it in his pale gray eyes. He doesn’t trust me. My answers don’t matter. I am sick and he pretends to care. The future is foreseeable–more meds and treatment on the way. “As well as you want me to be.”

The good doctor sets his pen down and stares at me with what looks to be sympathy. A small sigh escapes his lips. “I want you to be well Timothy.” Hamish states with his fake I care about you tone. “That is why you are here. So we can make you well and return you to your family.”

I can feel a muscle twitch near my lip. I fight the smile.



He has no idea, nor does he wish to comprehend. They abandoned me here. “I have no family.”

My mood soon changes. It always does. I will speak no more. He will try to reason, like always, but I no longer listen. I am lost here. He cannot return me to my real family. Only I can find them.

Seconds pass. Minutes follow. Dr. Hamish sighs again. He picks up his pen, turns his gaze from me to his paper, and begins to write his daily notes. He knows I don’t believe him. Why would I? He has tried every treatment he can imagine to fix me. And every time he has failed. He can’t fix me. I’m not broken. My only mistake was letting my family here know my secret. When I was younger, my foster mom laughed. She told people I was just imaginative. But as I got older, she frowned at me, ashamed of me, excusing me from her friends. My foster father stopped talking to me. He wouldn’t look at me. I never understood why. I thought they loved me, but I soon learned I was wrong. They brought me here to Dr. Hamish’s asylum five years ago. I learned not to speak of what I am or where I am from. But I can’t stop the nightmare. The Darkness threatens to claim me. Breaking the silence I hear it taunting me, “You belong to me.”

Dorothy Rose

The warm water chases away the chill on my skin. The desire for a sharp object lingers close to me. I need to escape. I want to be free. I can’t win against the Darkness. Images of my mother flood through me as the water falls down me.

My dear sweet Dorothy Rose. I found you, near the Veil, close to the world of Dreams. Near the edge of Darkness, I saved you. Brought you to the glittering City and I claimed you as my own. My child, my daughter.

When I was young I never questioned her. I felt special. But as I got older I understood my mother was ill. Oz was more than a story– more than a movie. To her it was real. When I was nine, she took me into the woods near our home. She called them the Dark Forest. She told me stories of the wicked witch that controlled the woods. I use to laugh and love her stories. When I was thirteen, the stories felt like an obsession. My mother’s mind was breaking and I could not save her. My Aunt Clair moved from Boston to stay with us. Her husband had left her and she had nowhere else to go. When she reached our home, I could tell she was not impressed, but she knew it would have to do. Like any normal teenage girl, I felt awkward at first, but soon decided to deal with her company. After a week, she had already changed the way I lived. She just look at me with fake concern and say, “You poor child. I had no idea. Now, don’t you worry, I’m here now. I will take care of everything.”

Some part of me felt relieved. I would not be alone to deal with mother’s illness. I felt everything would turn out fine. Little did I know my aunt only wanted what belonged to my mother. Aunt Claire was broke and had no home. My mother had some wealth and a nice country home. It was never to my aunt’s taste, but it was enough. She even went as far as having a lawyer draw up papers to take it away, but to her surprise, she couldn’t. The house and the land did not belong to my mother. It belonged to an Oscar Weston. The only residents allowed to occupy the home were me and my mom.

My mother never spoke about this man. In fact I had no idea that we lived in someone else’s home. I thought it belonged to us, but maybe it belonged to my father. I never knew him. My mother never spoke of him. When my aunt confronted my mother, things got worse. It was as if my mom could see darkness in her sister. Mom grew quiet and refused her sister’s care. She often told Aunt Clair to leave, but my aunt refused. She would just laugh my mom’s anger away then she would tell me, “She’s not having a good day dear.”

I knew why she was upset and it angered me that I could do nothing. Aunt Clair stayed with us for two long years. My mother never got any better. Her mind only grew worse under the care of my aunt. Mother would often wake me at night, crying of the Darkness.

“Oh, my dear sweet Dorothy Rose. It has found us. I tried to hide you. I tried to protect you. I found you near the edge of Darkness. I knew better, but you were so beautiful. So small. You needed me.”

The sound of her cry echoes through me. My heart aches as the tears start to fall. “I’m so sorry mama. So…so… sorry” I can’t fight the heart ache. The tears fall like the water from the shower. The sob escapes my lips as I fall to my knees.




“What in the name of…!”

I hear my nurse. The fury in her voice, but I do not care. My heart is broken. I cannot be fixed.

The water stops flowing. I feel strong hands pull me from the wet floor. “Put her on the bed.” The nurse snaps. “I ought to let you sleep in that wet gown.”

“Ms. Dermal! That is not how we speak to our patients.”

“Dr. Hamish!” She says surprised. “But sir, look at the mess she has made. The floor is flooded.”

“I have eyes, Ms. Dermal. I see the water. The orderlies and the janitor can clean it up. Ms. Rose is in need of a dry gown. Tell your maids to replace the bedding and her gown.”

I don’t look up. I stay curled up in my wet gown. The idea of Dr. Hamish rattling my nurse should make me smile. She is a shite nurse and old crone. But I do not smile. The memory of my mother is still close to me. Her heart ache is now mine.

“It’s alright Dorothy.” I hear him say. His voice sounds so soft and sweet, like he truly cares. “I understand your sadness.”

How can he understand? He has no idea of my pain. He doesn’t understand my truth. He does not believe in my suffering. He can’t, because he was never meant to see. The truth of my reality is their make believe. “I too have lost some one dear to me.” I almost feel his heartache. “I can help you Dorothy. Let me help you.”

I don’t look up. I feel his hand on my shoulder. I should say something, but I don’t. I’m broken. How can he fix me? He would never understand. I belong to the Darkness. I hear it whisper, “I will always be with you.”

Dr. Hamish

I see this young girl, a tragedy at fifteen, trapped inside her mind. I don’t think I will ever forget the day her aunt gave her to me. I knew her aunt exaggerated the situation. She was left with a young girl who had just lost her mother. Her aunt Clair was not the mothering type. At first glance Dorothy looked grieved, and for good reason. But as time went on I noticed the lost gaze grow darker.

I have seen the dark gaze before. It only occurs in those who have been traumatized. This child witnessed something so horrific she has escaped inside herself for protection. I must convince her I am safe. If I try to reach in and grab her, she will only fall further away. I must learn of her tragedy. That is the only way to save her.

“Dr. Hamish, We have the bedding and the gown.”

I turn to see Ms. Dermal’s nurse maids Frances and Glenda. They are barely older than Dorothy, much younger than I, but I am hoping they may help in awakening my young patient. I step out of the room to allow them to tend to the young girl. I walk the halls of my hospital. A place filled with history, good and bad.

So many patients have passed through these halls. Once, this place held over three thousand, but after war and sickness, only a few hundred can be cared for now. It has taken some time, but I have redesigned Raven Hill, giving it a safer appearance for the children and for those who may never reenter society. The grounds near the hospital have been transformed into gardens and orchards. The remaining buildings have become useful in other ways. Homes for the staff, a small power plant and even a dairy farm have been set up. Raven Hill can operate without interference from the outside world if necessary.

I listen to the sounds of my patients. There are so many stories behind these broken minds. I know many cannot be fixed. Their minds are beyond repair, but they can still serve useful. The research I gain from their treatments will change medical practice. But those like Dorothy are different. Their minds are not broken. Their hearts are. In time, I hope I can heal her heart, and then mend her mind. I want to look into her emerald eyes and see the light within. I want to help chase away the Darkness and save her from her mother’s fate.

Timothy Reign

I sit in the dining hall, staring at the empty checkerboard on my table, listening to the chatter of Dr. Hamish’s staff. Believing we are so lost we do not understand. They think because we are silent, we are dumb. Well, I guess some of us are. I hear a faint conversation behind me.

“Drink your tea, Stewart. Can’t let it get cold now can we?”

“Of course not. I still don’t understand how one can drink cold tea. Silly. Isn’t it, Stewart.”

I look up from my board to check the time. 10:45 Am. Right on time. Miss. Wallaby is having lunch with her son again. She has the same conversation every day with her imaginary son. Her mind was lost to a fever in her youth. Her family, among many more, passed away from this fever. Still to this day, she believes her son lives, and today they are having tea.

“Tell me Frankie, why’d ya do it? Why’d ya do it?”

10:55 Am. Good old George strolls on in and takes a seat two tables down. He is the oldest patient here. “All those people Frankie. All those people.”

His lost expression says so much. His scars tell so many stories. That man lived a life. One day I will understand those memories.

“Hello Timothy.”

My mood darkens at the sound of her voice. My eyes fall on my empty board. “Come on Timothy. Just a little glance today.”

I refuse. I can’t look up. I can’t look at her. She thinks I am a fool. I know the truth in her voice. She is mocking me. Taunting me. It’s bad enough she steals my dreams. Erasing every good memory. Taking away the one who holds my heart. I won’t give in. I won’t look at her. “You can’t hide forever Timothy. One day you will have to look at me.”

Her voice fades and all I hear are the sounds of my fellow patients. I dare a glance and notice Dr. Hamish in the far corner. A solemn expression on his face. He looks away from me and starts to talk to his other patients. As I look back to my board, I hear him ask, “So Timothy…How are we feeling today?”

“As good as you want me to be.” I whisper to no one.

“You are mine.” The Darkness tells me.

Dorothy Rose

I’ve been given a new gown and my bedding changed. The day moves by so slowly for me when I am awake. They don’t understand. I can’t find my way in the Real. I must find the Veil. I must step through. The Dream world is where I lost her. The Dream world is where I will find her.

Months ago I never really believed in The Veil or The Darkness. I would have never believed in the different worlds. I always thought they were stories. My mom had such a wonderful imagination. I wanted to be just like her. I know what you’re thinking. Be careful what you wish for. Well, wish granted. I am now my mother. I see what she has seen. I fear what she feared. I believe in what she believed. And like my mother, I will be alone.

I never knew or wanted to believe how real my mom’s stories were until the night I lost her. Her world came crashing in on mine. What felt like an eternity happened in only a matter of minutes. I can still see my hand reach for her door. I can still feel the chill over my skin. My muscles are so tense from the anticipation of what awaits in the darkness of my mother’s room. My heart races. My pulse pounds in my ears. I can hear the loud click of the door knob as I turn it. The door moves with ease as I push it open to step inside. My mother’s breath is faint as I see for the first time.

The Darkness laughs at me. Taunts me. Reminding me of how I use to think my mom crazy for speaking of the Darkness as if it were real. I found you on the edge of Darkness. My mom’s words hold truth now. I belong to Darkness. My mom took me away to hide me in the light. Our Emerald City was our farm house. It was small, but it was enough for us. The grass was always so green and lush. We would always feed the geese by the pond.

I miss my old life. I was happy there. I can still see and feel my old life, but now it is only make believe. I want to be free of the Darkness, but I can’t fight it. Not anymore. Not with her gone. The Darkness took mom away. I have been left alone to search the Dream world for her. I know she is there. I will find her. I have too.

In my silence I hear the song my mom loved so much. A simple song, but it said so much. ‘Some…where… over the rainbow. Blue birds fly.’

I think of those words, along with the rest of the song. I wish I was a blue bird. I’d fly over the rainbow and look for her. My heart aches for her.

“If happy little blue birds fly, beyond the rainbow…. Why, oh, why can’t I”

Into the Veil

I set in my room now, far away from all the others. I can no longer listen to their broken thoughts. I want to return to my reality–my normal place. The place they say does not exist. The place I can hide from The Darkness.

At night, I can almost see the doorway. I can feel it. It is so close, yet I cannot touch it. It’s not fair. They don’t understand. This is not where I belong. I look up at my walls. I stare at the drawings they have allowed me to keep. I can see the mountain. I can almost hear the wind blow through the willows. I can hear the birds and I feel like I am there.

I have found the doorway. I am almost home. I can see the light. It shines so brightly. I hear my people calling. “Find us.”

I can hear them. I want to find them. I will find them. The Veil is real. The Veil will lead me home.

Timothy Reign

I hear the sound of my foot tapping on the tile floor. The sound grows louder as the images before me come into complete view. I sit at my desk. Paper and crayons placed all about. No! My mind screams with frustration. My eyes sting as they water. So close. I was almost there. I look at the paper in front of me. I drew Laguna Lake. The place where she stole my heart. The place where I must return to find her.

As I sit, a tremble runs through my body. I can’t control my legs, my arms, or my body. I want to fight, but something else has control. A faint laugh taunts me. The Darkness is near. She calls to me. She calls to all of those who have escaped her world.

The tremble grows stronger. My muscles tense as I find it hard to breath. The Darkness is angry. I was almost home. I was almost free. “You can’t escape me.”

An iron grip takes hold of my arms. My body locks up as I am dragged away. I hear voices, but can’t understand them. My hands clamp together. My heartbeat pounds in my chest. It hurts. I feel a sting in my arm and my muscles start to relax. The voices sound so strange. I can’t make them out.

My mind recounts the events that have taken place. I’m in my room. I was almost through the Veil. The Darkness stopped me. The light in the room fades to gray. Silhouettes dance around me as The Darkness calls out, “You are mine.”

Dr. Hamish

As Timothy sleeps, I monitor the rhythm of his heart. The medicine has sedated him for now. His breathe has finally slowed down and he looks to be in a peaceful state. Leaving his bedside I walk over to his desk; another beautiful drawing.

It’s hard to imagine what it must be like for Timothy. The seizures have grown worse for him. He has closed himself off. He believes the staff is only here to cause more harm. He believes in Darkness. Like so many others.

“Dr. Hamish. Sir should I call his mother?”

Awaken from my thoughts I turn to see a young nurse maid. Evelynn, I believe. “It would do no good. They will not come.”

Seeing the look on her face, I have to say I agree. Most of the young patients have been abandoned. Very few families come to see the ones they have dropped off. It is disheartening. In Timothy’s case it may prove affective. If he knew they cared, it is possible he would try harder to get well. “Come now. He is well looked after. There is no more we can do. Let him rest.”

I walk the nurse maid from the room and close the door. I can’t lose hope for Timothy. There must be a way to help him. I know I can’t save all my patients, but I will never stop trying to help those I believe I can save. I will help him fight his Darkness. I will guide him back into the light where he belongs.

As I walk down the hall, I take notice to the room three doors down on the right. She stares out the small window of her door. Her eyes fixed in the direction of Timothy’s room. She does not blink. She is transfixed. I walk toward Ms. Rose’s door. She takes no notice to me. Her long brown hair hangs over the right side of her face.

It is hard to say what I feel at the moment. It is odd that she stares out her door. She has been in her dark trance for weeks. What could have caused her to move? Whatever it is, I must find out. Could she finally be waking? My interest has been peeked. A thought forms so quickly that I could have easily forgotten it. But I couldn’t let it go. I had to focus. I had to plan carefully. If I’m right, I could help her, and give Timothy a reason to fight.

Dorothy Rose

I can see Dr. Hamish stare at me in wonder. I can tell he is baffled by my sudden appearance in the door. I know he will never understand. He can’t. He has never known of The Darkness. He lives in a world that believes the boogie man isn’t real. He lives in a world that does not believe in the unexplained. But I do. I, like so many others, come from beyond this world. We have been brought through The Veil– the doorway into the world of Dreams. A place to hide from The Darkness. My mother found it. She saw me and took me away. I know you don’t believe, but it is the world that has created the stories you hold so dear. Sweet bedtime stories. But with every beautiful story, there is darkness within. I can feel when it is near. The Darkness is close. It haunts all of us.

I stand still, ignoring Dr. Hamish. I know the boy is tormented. I want to go to him, but I refuse. I don’t want eyes on me. I have already drawn to much attention to myself. I knew I shouldn’t move, but I could not stop myself. I am drawn to it. It is within me. I could feel his struggle. I could feel his pain. The Darkness wants him. I can’t let it take someone else.

The door slowly opens as I hear someone softly say my name. “Dorothy. I need to come in dear. Please move from the door.”

I can tell it’s my shite nurse. I still don’t move. Why should I make her job easy when I know she doesn’t care about us?

“Dorothy, please dear.”

I hear her sigh of frustration. “I am coming in Dorothy.” The door moves closer toward me. I can feel the edge near my toes. I tell myself to stay still, but like before, my body moves against my wishes. The door opens wider as I back away. My eyes continue to stare out the window. I can feel the boy’s dreams. He is trying to find the Veil. He was almost there. I can see small glimpses of his world. He is not from mine. I try to focus on his dream. I felt the desire to know more. It was strange to know that I was not alone; that there was at least one who would understand me.

“Dorothy. Dorothy.” A soft voice intrudes my thoughts. The image of the boy’s dream fades to gray. “Ms. Rose. Can you hear me?” I feel my body turning as I stop to face the man behind the voice. I stare at him as if I am still looking through the window. His face was kind. I can see the small wrinkles behind his round frame glasses. His fading dark hair was cut short. He looked so familiar, but I knew he was not someone I would know from this world.

“Dr. Hamish! Dr. Hamish!”

“Yes, what is it?”

“You need to step out sir. You need to see this.”

Dr. Hamish released my arms. I can see the excitement and confusion in his eyes. I can hear the click of the door. I am alone, but only in my room. I can’t control what I do next. I can feel something. It’s strange. Like a connection. I turn to move back toward the door. I see the doctor, nurses, maids, and even the orderlies, all standing around the other patients. Patients like me. They stare at the boy’s room. Dazed, like me they must be feeling the same thing. The Darkness

“What’s going on doctor?” I hear someone ask as Dr. Hamish steps into my view.

“I’m not sure.” Dr. Hamish looked confused. “It’s alright. Let’s help them back to their rooms.”

As the nurses and orderlies try to help the patients back to their rooms, we could hear her calling. We remain still. I can feel the others as we whisper “Do not fear The Darkness. We are with you.”

Timothy Reign

I’m falling through the clouds. But I am not afraid. I can feel them near, I hear them call to me, Do not fear The Darkness. We are with you. They have found me. My family. My true family. Children from the Veil. As I fall, I am reminded why we are made to suffer in the Real. Our world was under attack by Nightmare. The ruler of Darkness. So many of us have been claimed in hopes of finding The Gift– the key created to connect our worlds. It was not enough to destroy those who fought to protect The Veil. No, Darkness wanted more. It wanted to claim us, those who were forced into the Real, and control us. We are meant to be Nightmare’s weapons.

The wind feels cool against my skin. Awakening me and allowing me to see the truth. I remember my home: The Mountains, The Willow Field, and Laguna Lake. I remember soaring past Evergreen and Pirates Cove. I remember it all. Even the day my parents, my true parents, were taken by the Shade.

I sit near the edge of Laguna Lake, looking into the clear water, in hopes of seeing her. The water is still; slick as glass. I dare not touch it, in fear of shattering the image that appears before me.

I see a world, not much different from mine, come into view. It is her home. She lives in a strange dwelling on the ground. Not in the clouds, like mine. She likes to go to the small lake near her home. I watch her feed and talk to the birds that swim there. I don’t know why she captivates me. I watch her walk with her mother; who looks so familiar. They seem happy, but her eyes say differently. She holds her mother’s hand as they walk. Her dark hair is tied back, but the wind still finds a way to blow through it. Her emerald eyes glisten from the tears that fail to fall. She is troubled, and I can’t help her. As I watch, the sun that shone over the lake fades. I look up to see a strange cloud. I look back at the lake, torn. I want to stay, but I fear something is wrong here. I lean forward. My face is so close to the glass, so close to her, yet I cannot touch her. “One day…”

I hear the screams from above. Fear grips me, breaking me free from the image of the lake. Mother. Father. I take off, soaring to my home. The strange cloud grows in size. I’m close when I hear my name, “Timothy!”

I slow to see my mother come towards me, “No son, do not go home. Come with me. Now”

My mother’s fear chills my core. “Mother, what’s happening? Where’s father?”

“I’ll explain later. We need to get to the Veil.”

She took my hand; I can still feel the pressure from how tight she held on. We, along with others, flew to the city. The sun still shone brightly. The scene below was still so peaceful and beautiful. Roads glitter like gold. The city looks as if it were made of rubies and emeralds. We were so close when I felt my mother falter. Her grip grew tighter as we start to fall. The sun was fading. The strange cloud was closing in. I called out to my mother. Her grip loosens, my hand is free, and for a moment I am frozen. We are falling. Not just my mother and I, but all of us who were trying to reach the city. Something inside me woke. I dive for my mother. My arms wrap around her, using all my strength, I slow her fall.

I don’t remember reaching the ground. My world went dark. When my eyes open, I can feel the pain in my legs and down my back. My mother lays near me, gasping for air. “Mom…Mother!”

“Hush…now… Timothy…Don…Don’t let it hear you.”

“Mom.” I can feel the tears. My voice sounds broken and weak to my own ears.

“Timothy, listen to me. You don’t have much time.” My mother’s voice was strained. She fought for every breath. “You must find the Veil. You must…enter the Real. It’s the only way.”

“Mom…please. You’re coming with me. Mom!”

“You know I can’t. Timothy…I’m so sorry. Go. Before it finds you. Go.”

“Mom!” But she did not answer. The light in her eyes was gone. I couldn’t move as I grew numb. I take my mother’s hand as the coldness now filled my body. I notice how small mine are in hers. I fell so small. I can’t leave her. I won’t leave her.

I don’t move. I can’t. I lay next to her, allowing the numbness to take over me. I watch her face. She is so still. I watch as the color of her skin changes. She was of light and dream. Now she is lost to darkness and nightmare. She was warmth and happiness. Now she is cold and silent. I still hear her tell me to go, but how can I? I lay on the edge of darkness. I see the path. A ray of light breaks through the gray, lighting the way. My mother’s voice speaks to me. “Go Timothy. Go my son.”

Without understanding, I let her voice guide me. She tells me to go. So, I go.


There was once a world of eternal darkness and a world of eternal light. Brothers created for balance. Brothers created for purpose. But the world of eternal light shone brightly, and the world of darkness was jealous. Determined to cast out the light, darkness stretched out its hand to touch other worlds, casting them into misery.

The world of light was shamed by his brother’s actions. So he too stretched out his golden rays to touch upon the worlds his light. And in his touch, he created love, hope, and peace. For centuries the brothers fought, creating life of good and evil throughout worlds that surround them. All worlds were touched, but one.

Hidden far from sight, a sleeping giant lay cold and empty. Unmoving. Both brothers saw this world and fell in love. Each desiring something the silent world did not want to give. Blinded by need, the dark world fought hard for acceptance, while the world of light only showed a glimpse of what he had to offer. Determined to win the cold worlds affections, the dark world stretched out his hand to smother his brother’s light, but the light was to strong. The brothers fell, colliding with the cold world, waking the giant and breaking the silence.


I see into their souls. I feel their fear. Their sorrow. Their hatred of me. My power over the Veil is growing. Soon I will have what is mine. The Gift that will link me to the Real.

“You called for me my lord.”

Looking up from the dark pool, I turn to see my most fateful assassin. “You would not be here otherwise.”

Most of those who serve me quiver in my presence, but Shade is not like most. She is my equal. Her attack on the Veil was glorious. She crippled the Land of Dreams in minutes, but to our dismay, my brother, Ray helped the youth escape. Along with the Gift. I now I’m close. “Time, it seems, is fleeing. I have yet to hear word from you or the others.”

“We are close my lord. Most have been found. The Real, it seems, has proven difficult for those of the Veil. My Shadows are in place.”

I listen to her report. It is what I want to hear, but I know she does not report everything. I will let it pass for now. Her secret will be revealed soon enough. She has proven useful. I never questioned her when she came to me. She was willing to serve me in my quest to overpower the Veil. I could feel the Darkness within her. It was enough.

“Very well. I want a report when they are ready.”

“Of course.”

I watched as she dismissed herself. Fear has never touched her. She is truly an equal. Before she leaves my presence completely, I desired to see her onyx eyes once more, “Oh, and Shade.”

Slowing her pace, she turns. Her long black hair shifts into a mist, her slender human form falters. She stands, at a distance, in her true form. Magnificent. “They better be ready soon.”

Dorothy Rose

I don’t remember how long I stood at the door, staring out the window toward his room. I don’t remember being moved to my bed, or having the covers pulled up to my shoulders. I don’t remember any of that. I lay, eyes fixed on the cracked ceiling, listening to silence. I don’t move. I am afraid. His dream still haunts me. His fear is mine. I don’t know why I felt it, but it was the same as my mother’s. I felt hers the night she left me. That is why I entered her room. That is when my life changed.

I can feel the change within me now. The rhythm of my heart increases as the darkness engulfs me. I’m no longer in my bed. The walls of my tiny room fade to the walls of my home. I hear mother crying. I hear her pleas. “No! You can’t be here. How did you find us? “

My pace slows as I listen. I can’t explain why. Most nights I hurry to her bedside. My Aunt, never entered, nor bothered to tend to my mother. This night was no different. I heard my mother having her night terror. I tried to ignore it, hoping Aunt Clair would get up for a change and help. But, mom’s cries grew, so I slowly got out of bed. I was frustrated as I walked to her room, but as soon as I heard her, the frustration turned to fear.

“The doorway is locked. Only those of the Veil can find their way through.”

Another step closer. “How could you? You cannot have her! I won’t let you!” My breath feels heavy. I’m almost to the door. “She will never belong to you.” Heart beating faster. My hand touches the door knob. “You only think you’ve won.” I turn the knob slowly. I hear the soft click. “I haven’t lost my power. Your kind will not prevail.” I open the door. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. “It’s time for Dorothy to see the truth.”

The dream starts to weaken. I can feel my gown sticks to my sweaty skin. The blankets feel heavy. A ray of moon light breaks through the darkness, but the dream is still there. I stand frozen at my mother’s door. Staring into darkness. I gasp, “Mom.”

“I’m so sorry child. You have been deceived.” I know the voice is lying to me. My mother never lied. In her rants and outburst she spoke the truth. I understood these truths to be from her sickness. I lied to myself, but I was never deceived. My mother may have broken me, but she did it to protect me. She showed me things that I cannot explain. I learned of a place that can only be imagined. I lay in a bed, covered in sweat, lost to the Real. I know she loved me. I know she tried to protect me. But her last words still hurt me. “You are not mine.”

Timothy Reign

I wake to a nightmare, but it is not mine. I feel that it is close. The sense of being trapped barrels down on me. It hurts to be awake, but at the same time I don’t want to be lost to the Real. I felt normal once. After a few minutes I understand that it is not I who feels this way, but another. I can feel they are close. I set up in my bed, look up at the ceiling, tracing the thin cracks. My room would be bathed in darkness if it were not for the soft beams of moonlight that break through my window. The Ray it seems is still watching over me.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Releasing slowly, I try to focus on the one who needs me. It has been so long since I was needed. I try to understand the nightmare, but I cannot enter. This one is different. I have felt others before, but not like this. Something is changing. I open my eyes. Pulling the covers back, I roll over to my side and pull my legs to my chest. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I lay still and decide. I should find them, I tell myself. They need me.

I hear my mother’s voice telling me to go. I know she would not want me to be afraid. I look toward my door. My body moves on its own. I feel my body rise. My bare feet touch the cold tile floor. I know I am awake. I can feel the Real. I won’t be afraid. I stand. With my eyes focused on the door, I take one small step, then another. I can do this. I can find them. I was sent back through the Veil. I remember my world. I know who I truly am. The Real may have given me a different name, but I know who I am. I am strong. I will not let the darkness take me. I will fight. I will find them all. I will bring them back home. I will save them.

Dr. Hamish

The evening went by in a haze. I have never seen such behavior from my patients before. It is hard to explain. I set at my desk in the late hours of night writing in my journal. I have explained in detail of the evening events, and yet, I still cannot understand what took place. In the past three months, children of different ages, have been brought to me. Though their symptoms are different, the one they share has been named, The Darkness.

I have only been able to speak to a few of the children. Most, like Ms. Rose, do not speak. Some, like Timothy, wake for brief moments. They will talk to me. The younger ones tell me stories. Stories they believe are real. But those moments are fleeing. They soon retreat back into their minds. They do not speak. They do not make eye contact, nor do they want to be near others. But something happened today. They seemed drawn to Timothy. It was as if they could sense his distress. Even Ms. Rose, who has been here the least amount of time, is drawn to him.

Her aunt told me she suffered from her mother’s sickness. That she had been trying to deal with it, but when her mother past, Dorothy became unreachable. I have seen many illnesses. I knew Ms. Ross’s aunt was not being honest. She did not want to be stuck with a child. After evaluating Ms. Ross, my conclusion was confirmed. Ms. Rose’s state was the result of losing her mother. When I reached out to her Aunt Clair, I had learned that she had abandoned the girl. When the news had been related to the child, her state grew worse. She closed herself off. She ate very little, and then she tried to end her life.

I believed Ms. Rose to be different than the other children. I believed her mother’s illness was something other than mental. When reaching out to find the aunt, I learned differently. Those that knew Dorothy said she was a lively child, and believed she was heartbroken over her mother’s passing. They believed the aunt contributed to her mother’s death to gain an estate. Something she lost in Boston. But there was something more to this story. After the events of today, I believe there is. Ms. Rose’s behavior was the same as those who believe in something dark. They believe it to be real.

The faint sounds of their voices still speak to me. “Do not fear The Darkness. We are with you.”

Dorothy Rose

The dream has long left me as I lay underneath the covers. My gown clings to my skin. The covers are still heavy, but I dare not move. I know I am in my tiny room. I know I have been left behind. The pain, I fear, will never leave me.

I allow the tear to fall from my eye. I am awake, and I do not wish to be. The ray of light stretches across the ceiling, chasing away the darkness and the dream. I hear the soft click of my door. My heartbeat quickens. Normally I would not react to someone entering my room, but I know it is not my shite nurse or the doctor. I remain staring at the ceiling as I watch from the corner of my eye. My door opens slowly. I can see the figure standing in my door afraid to enter. Slowly, I turn my head toward the door.

A soft light comes from my half open door. A long shadow is cast along the floor. My visitor still does not move. Something inside me awakens. Something of my old self. Removing the heavy blankets, I set up. The figure twitches, taking a step back, “please don’t leave me.”

The shadow on the floor stops at the sound of my voice. My voice. A sound I haven’t heard in a while. I have imagined it, but to my own ears it sounds strange. I don’t know why I even spoke to my visitor. This person felt different. Not like Dr. Hamish’s workers. Something about them felt wrong, but my visitor felt safe. My visitor felt real.

My feet touch the cold tile floor. I take a step and then another. I know I am moving. It feels real. I know I am awake. I feel like me. Not the Dorothy who is trapped and afraid. I reach the door and I see him. He stands a head taller. He has brown curly hair and brown eyes. He looks at me unmoving. His hand still rest on my door knob.

Afraid he might leave, my breath shutters as I quickly say, “Hi.”

It was a simply word, but it carried so much meaning. From the look on his face, I believed he understood. His expression softens. I can see he is really looking at me. “I’m Dorothy.” His breath comes out as a soft gasp as he response, “Hi. I’m Timothy.”

My hand touches the door, slowly pulling it open. He is like me, I thought. I fight back the emotions that have suddenly burst inside me. The idea of knowing I am not alone overwhelms me.

“Will you talk to me?” A tear escapes as I say the words. The emotions within me were harder to fight than I thought. I needed someone to speak with. I knew he was the one. How, I can’t explain. He felt like mom. He felt like me. He felt of light and happiness. He felt like dreams. I felt his hand touch my face. His thumb gently whips away my tear.

“For as long as you want me to.”

Timothy Reign

I don’t know what possessed me to touch her face, but I had to make sure she was real. I have only ever seen her appear in Laguna Lake. Her eyes remind me of home. To see them cry made my heart ache. But to hear her need me, I don’t know…I felt complete. Unafraid. Ready to face what lies ahead.

I reluctantly let go of her face. Her wet hair brushes the back of my hand. It was her nightmare I felt. I take a step into her room. It was the same as mine, only plain. No pictures or drawings to color the pale empty space we are forced to dwell in. I walk toward the window to let in the moonlight. I hear the soft click of her door. I turn to see her step lightly toward me. Her pale blue nightgown hangs off her shoulder. Her long dark hair still sticks to her skin. I know how her nightmare made her feel. She is still shaken by it.

“The moonlight will protect you from Darkness. It is a gift from the Ray.”

Her right hand touches the bed. Her fingers pinch the blankets as she looks out the window. “I don’t understand.”

Her voice is soft. She doesn’t want to sound weak, but I can hear how broken she is. “I know. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you. You had a life in the Real. I didn’t.”

She stops pinching her blanket. She sets on the edge of her bed. Her hands now lay in her lap. I can see the thin cuts on her wrist. She doesn’t look at me. Her eyes stay focused on the floor. A moment passes and I am afraid I lost her. She has escaped back into her torment, but then she suddenly looks up at me. Her green eyes glisten in the moon’s light. “How do you know that? That I was born here.”

“I am from the Veil. Those of us from our world don’t handle the Real very well. You are different.”


“It’s hard to explain.” I want to keep her talking. I want her to ask questions. It feels good to talk to someone. Even though she doesn’t completely understand she believes. And, I have to admit I enjoy her company. Her real company. She is no longer an image. She is real.

“What do you know of the Veil?”

“Not much.” She states as she looks away. I hear her sigh, and then she looks back at me. “My mother use to speak of it, but I always thought it was just a fairytale place. As I grew older, she became scared. Paranoid. She spoke more of the Darkness. She told me she found me on the edge of it. I never understood what that meant. But, the night she left me….”

I can tell that memory was painfully as she looks back toward the floor. I felt her pain. She loved her mother, and now she was gone.

I walk over to set beside her. I place my hands in my lap. I imagine my fingers lightly touching her hand, and she allows it. Her fingers entwine with mine. One day I will know that feeling, but for now I sit beside her, my hands in my lap, happy. “It will be ok. You will see. I will help you.”

She looks up, stares straight ahead, a small smile plays on her lips. Soft, pink lips, I hope to one day kiss. “How can you help me? According to the doctor we are broken. To the shite nurses we are burdens. No one here believes in us.”

“None of them matter.” And they don’t. Dr. Hamish was harmless. He was a norm that believed he could fix the broken minds of his patients. But, some of his staff is dark. Something from Nightmare has attached to them. I couldn’t remember before, but now I do. They felt like the Shade that attacked the Land of Dreams. I always felt I was alone here, surrounded by the enemy, but not anymore. I heard my people. They still live, and I have been led to her. “We were meant to find one another. I know that now. We will help each other.”


I stand in my tower, atop Crystal Castle, in dismay over the destruction of the land. My brother, Nightmare, ruler of Darkness, finally found a way in, sending his assassin Shade. During her attack most of my subjects in the distant land fell. Those in the city fought off the Shadows. My Sparks guided the children through the Veil. It was a risk, but it had to be done. It is unfortunate that most are not accepted in the Real. I tried to find them suitable host. A mind that would be compatible, but it seems the children are suffering.

I watched as Timothy found his way through. Grateful he can find his way, but unfortunate he cannot control the doorway. I can only hope that Timothy can get through to Dorothy. Her mother’s sacrifice will never be forgotten. Timothy’s sister left to guard Dorothy in the Real.

As the moon beams down over the land, I see it touch upon the lake. The light in our world also touches the Real. I know it will watch over Timothy. I know it will help protect him. He has lost so much. His family served me well. It is with great sadness I must ask him to do the same. The children are in danger in the Real. It is up to Timothy to lead them home. As for Dorothy, she will have to remain behind. She was never meant for this world. Glimmer interfered with the law, but for good reason. The child’s gift will be needed in the Real. Together they will protect this land and return the Land of Dreams back to its full glory.

Continue reading this ebook at Smashwords.
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-30 show above.)