Golden Gates

Felicia met me on the other side of the golden gates. She was dressed in pale green and held a clipboard. Not exactly the type of heaven that I was expecting. I looked around. This was a strange heaven, not one that I was expecting. I was in a room with four blank walls and a single light hanging from the ceiling. A table was in the center with a second clipboard and a ball point pen lying next to it. Behind me stood the golden gates open, and the dark beyond.
"I'm glad that you're finally here," she said in a alto voice, "We've been waiting for you to finish your experience."

"My experience? You dragged me through hundreds of worlds and expected me to enjoy it?"

"We never said that you would enjoy the experience, it was only an experience that you agreed to."

"Agreed to, when did I ever agree to this?"

"Please sit, we'll go through each experience." She motioned to the table, turning herself briskly and took the farther seat at the table.

Waringly I took the seat and sat down, still unsure of what I was getting into.

"First, let us go to the first event that you experienced. You were thrust into the world of Molly and Thomas, two runaways trying to survive a war. Molly and Thomas are from two different cultures, and due to their union, they both could suffer if it comes to light that their son is to be born. He is to turn the tides of the world, if they survive. You only caught a glimpse of Molly's fear and Thomas's protection of her. Both are madly in love with each other, as you will find yourself in in time."

"Why did I have an urge to visit a Grandmother that did not live there? And what was the rebellion about?"

"The Grandmother does not exist, she was only a past memory of yours that infiltrated your experience. Let's move on."

"But, the rebellion?"

"A fight between two families. Nothing more, surprisingly. There was no family that you were hunting either, it was again, a question that you infiltrated into the experience. Next memory."

"I was again hunting for my family...?"

"Yes, you were a victim of a war, jailed and separated from your family. You were released however the place that you called home has been destroyed by those who took your family, friends and neighbors. The message that you to decipher was still a secret message that was the secret to life, however, as you know, we don't know the secret to life, we create it in our minds, but we cannot truly know. When we die, we hope to find the answer, but as far as we can tell, the angels keep their secrets, and mortals like us will never know."

She turned the page on her clipboard and continued.

"You were in a different war after that, a war of improvement, a war of changing times. A world war of industrialization. You were an individual who understood the importance of industrialization but lacked the followers. This is how all those who create ideas that can help the world but lack the followers. Unfortunately, it happens all too often." 

"This is all I can tell you for now. Forgive me Annabele, but now is the time to rest. Tomorrow we shall continue in the definitions of your experiences. Farewell."

I was left alone suddenly, with no understanding of what would come upon me in the next few days. A cot materialized in the far corner, and without a second thought, I lay in it and fell asleep, blessedly free from any dreams.

Madness

The 15 year old voice was gone, replaced by my own.
My head throbbed, not as severe as a headache, but more like an injury. Pound. Pound. Pound. I could hear the blood rushing in my brain, down to my heart. I couldn't see, but I couldn't open my eyes, something sticky was holding them closed. I was afraid.
My body was pinned, from my knees to my stomach, pressure was there, and that same sticky substance. I wanted to scream, but who would hear when I couldn't see myself. I tried to move my arm but it felt heavy, and thinking of moving hurt.
Overwhelmed by the pressure that was being placed on my body I fell into what I hoped was sleep, and I was merely dreaming.
In my state of unconciousness I tried to put the pieces together. Where was I to feel this pressure, and how did I find myself in this situation. It hurt too much to move, or think about moving. Maybe this was finally it, maybe I had found myself in a situation where I could not get out of. Could I perhaps have begun to die?
This pressure wasn't just pressure, it was a blockage from agony, which I could feel. I embraced it because pain meant that I was alive. Wherever I was it still meant that I was alive. That is the beauty of emotions, it tells you that you are alive.
Suspended between life and death, with only pain keeping me closer to life I willed myself to open my eyes, determined to not follow a light if it did present itself. I would live.
The situation that I found myself in surprised me, for a just a moment.
I was in a car crash. And I was the driver.
It was dark, still, and there were no lights flashing on my dashboard. That meant that the battery was dead. I did not recognize the vehicle.
The other dreams came back to me in a flash. Could this be just another dream? Could this just be another situation that I have been thrown into? Or could this be the end?
No, the pain was too real. Where I was felt too real. It felt more real than wandering in the forest looking for my grandparents house.
It felt more real than searching an unfamiliar dilapidated home looking for a family that I wasn't even sure that were my own. 
The pain was more severe than joining a war that I didn't even know had begun.
I held more fear than finding the bear of a man torturing the poor souls in the basement and him finding me to bring me closer to death.
This level of uncertainty was with me and felt greater than when I fell into the servents home, where death was the punishment for all misdeomeners.
More terrified than when I fell into a world that I had no relation to and with its ending could mean anything for myself.
What was I going to to encounter next, was it death? Was it another life? Or was it another dream like situation where I would no know what was going to occur next?

The pain began to lesson, and I realized that it was because I was dying. There was no one there with me in that car, and darkness already surrounded me, so there was no difference when I closed my eyes. I let myself go, for if this was the end of the madness, then I would embrace it like a friend, a friend of sanity.

The stories all say 'don't follow the light' but what they don't say is that when you do follow the light, you don't follow it at all. You float with the light. A sense of peach envelops you and carries you to the golden doors that lead you to your next life.

This was the end, or so I thought, as the golden doors opened before me.

Brookington

I continued to fall and with a start awoke in a math classroom, one that I had never seen before, and a teacher that I never met before, and students that I had never encountered before, and yet I knew all of their names. And I felt as if my whole life was being narrated in a 15 year old voice, but it was my life that she narrating. And she knew exactly what I was encountering.
            You know those days of summer when all you want to do is sleep, sleep, and sleep some more?  That’s what its like for me too, except I do that in the winter.  I know, weird huh? 

            Any who, I do that in the winter during class.  A bit embarrassing I must say especially when the teacher smacks your desk with a book and tells you to “STOP DROOLING ERIN!”  Did I mention that the guys in my class are really hot?  Yea, really embarrassing.  This winter while I was snoozing’ I had the funkiest dream.  It continued into a long chain of rides, everyone different one than the last and it didn’t stop.  The first dream started it all off, and here it is:

            I fell asleep on my desk, it was terribly cold in that room, I remember.  Ms. Taffy was teaching us about math, oh did I mention that she’s dating the vice principle?  If you want my advice, don’t go near the boiler room after school.  ‘Shudder’

            Any who, back to class.  Ms. Taffy was teaching us math when I dozed off in the middle of note taking.  I dreamed that I was back home in my bed, sleeping at my desk when I jerked awake.  I heard noises, like street noises, but we’re in the middle of nowhere! 

No street life in Brookington like in the cities!  But I heard city life and it was coming from my closet! I might add here that I have two closets, the second one was turned around for me to use after AJ, my older brother by five years, moved out.  At the moment I think he’s engaged to a girl named Jessica.  Wait till he finds out that she’s already married!  She told me this a while ago, when he brought her home for Halloween.  ‘String ‘em along then break their hearts’, right Jess?  Ha ha.  

            Oops, sorry, going off on a limb here, back to my story.  My original closet was shut and locked tight but there was something back there! I got up from my desk and moved closer to it.  The noises are definitely coming from behind it, and to add to the creepies, the door began to glow around the edges!  The stickers that I had taped to it started to fall off because the door was sweating.  Yes, sweating, and it began to bulge in spots as if something was pushing against it, trying to get out.  Then the noises started to dim and the pulsing slowed, everything behind the door began to go hush… hush… I could hear my own heart beating it was so hushed.  Right before my eyes, which isn’t saying much since I war glasses and everything I see is unbelievable, the door began to change colors.  It changed between silver and gold, then to blue green to black, to purple to a light shade of pink into dark blue and then it got lighter and lighter when it stopped at gold with red swirls that spun and twirled so much it made you dizzy.  I didn’t notice until now that the noises behind the door had stopped completely.  It felt like everyone was holding tier breath.  Not a good feeling I could tell you. 

            Blue swirls had joined the red ones on the door by now.  But instead of flowing like the red ones did, it just moved independently, and it was spelling something.  First it spelled out a phrase using many different languages.  I imagine it worded the phrase in Arabian, Chinese, Dragon, French, Spanish and finally English.  All it said was Enter.  I stood there puzzling for moment, wondering how to ‘enter’ when I couldn’t.  The knob was gone, I merely melted in with the door and there didn’t seem to be a secret button or anything.  I glanced at the blue letters trying to decipher what it was saying.  When dragon came around I read   use the key.  (For those who can’t read Dragon, it says use the key.)  What key was the door talking about?  Then I remembered from a book I just read, you can make lock after you have the key.  Okay, but what key did I have?  I looked around my room and spotted the key chain on my bed.  Of course!  I could use a normal useless key that didn’t go to anything!  I took the two matching keys off of the ring and stuck one a lanyard that was around.  I then looked the lanyard around my neck, hiding it under my clothes.  The second key I slipped into the door where the keyhole should have been.  Miracle of miracles, it worked!  The key went into the door like a knife cutting butter.  I was impressed; I honestly didn’t think anything would happen.  But then again, like my good friend Luke says ‘Expect the Unexpected.’  The key turned in the lock and the door opened just a fraction.  The blue lettering had disappeared and noise had stared again.  It seemed like everyone had held their breaths and let it out all at the same time in one big WOOF! of air. 

            A wave of new smells hit me, riding on a blast of hot wind.  In a moment I knew why it was so hot.  Although it was the dead of winter in Brookington, it was hot summer time in this town and a storm was coming in.  I felt another hot breeze hit me with the scent of rain among other smells.  Everyone else must have felt it too because they all began to pack up.  The farmers picked up their homegrown food, the shop owners their wares, the women dragging their children home, men clicking at their horses, ready to beat the rain home, but the noise stayed the same, if not growing louder. 

            I stepped though the door but another surprise befell me.  Instead of wearing the jeans, socks, shirts and sweatshirt that I had been wearing in my room the moment before I was wearing what the people in my closet were wearing.  Worn sandals, a skirt that went by my ankles and a wrap around top, all very worn.  Luckily I still had my lanyard.  I stepped farther into the world, maybe to meet a shop owner, someone that was already safe and dry and in a better mood to talk to. 

            I stated down the street, toward the nearest shop, it happened to be a bookshop, when a hand came down on my shoulder.  I gave a little yelp and turned around expecting to see Luke.  He always spooks me that way; it’s always either him or Charlie.  Well, it wasn’t Luke, and it wasn’t a hand. 

            It was a paw, a big ol’ hairy paw that had been recently washed.  I followed the hand err, paw up to its arm, which was covered in a sky blue sleeve, up to the shoulder, then up to its head.  I realized, with a start, it was human, in a sense.  It was a werewolf, in another sense.  It was Luke, but not Luke too.  I mean, the creature was Luke, but as a werewolf.  But it seemed to me that werewolves in this world stayed sane, they didn’t go evil and start killing things like in movies. 

            Luke said “Did I scare you again Erin?”

            I said “Yes again.” And I went in a huff with a smile. Whenever I did that he would come over and go….

            “I’m Sorry Erin, Will you forgive me?”

            And as always I would go, “Yes of course Luke.”  Then he would give me a hug, like he did just then.  Also the wind had started to pick up. 

            He glanced up at the sky, took off his cloak and wrapped it around me. 

Surrounded by his cloak night suddenly fell and the small village dissaperaed and I once again found myself with a door in front of me and no where else to turn. Where else was to go? When would this madness end?

Cold Food

I hurried down to the kitchen again, and to my dismay the house had changed again. The staircase wound down two floors instead of one, chandeliers glittered where flowers once hung and there was a hint of a musty smell... wait, "Wet dog?"
Suddenly I found myself cannonballed by a standard purebred poodle. A wet, white, standard purebred poodle to be exact. And it's name was Lacy. The poodle was giving me love kisses all over my face, slobbering my silken clothes with its sloppy drool. I found to my dismay that I had once again changed my appearance and the location of where I had once stood. The chandeliers had risen higher than they had been but moments before, sunlight wafted in through the open terrance, adorned by centuries old Spanish moss. Roman busts stood against the walls, and at the center embedded into the wall was a carving of a man and a woman, with jars containing foul liquids lining the floor below. It was a rich man's home, and I was his wife.
"Wife!" A booming voice called out, "Where is that mutt?"
Lacy continued licking me until I fell back over onto the marble floor. I used the poodles massive weight to pull me back into a sitting position so I could observe the individuals that were entering the room. First came a maid, at least she looked like a maid, her hair was tied up in a long french braid, she had on a white dress with a red ribbon wrapped around her waist and there was an odd electronic box wrapped around her wrist. She had startling blue eyes, of which I only caught a glimpse of, she ducked quietly behind me and helped me back to my feet. I found that I had been wearing heels during the entire ordeal, no wonder I had fallen!
Quick as she had come the little maid had dissapeared, with Lacy I presumed as that dog was no where to be seen. The next person to enter was a small boy, no more than eight years old, and he was pushing a rather large armchair about the room. I leaned over to assist him over the small step that led into the next room, and he whispered "Miss must never help Valone, Miss would get into trouble again."
"What kind of trouble Valone?" I asked him, it couldn't be much worse than what I had already been through that day.
Valone stopped pushing the easy chair and looked at me. Tenderly he traced the side of my face from just under my right eye, down my cheek bone and ended at the right of my lip. "I don't want you to get hurt again, Miss." Then without another word he pushed the easy chair into the next room and dissapeared into the alcove.
I began to grow scared of what was on my face, was it a scar? A tattoo? Or a bruise? I felt my face, it didn't feel swollon, and the skin was smooth, possibly a tattoo? I looked around the room and the only piece that could give me a reflection was the window, so I walked toward it. The window turned out to not be a window at all, it was a mirror, and it was reflecting the window on the other side of the room, but it didn't reflect me at all, which I found curious. I tapped the reflection and found that there was no pane of glass! My hand had passed through the mirror entirely!
Much to my astonishement, I realized that it wasn't a mirror at all. It was infact, a window. Without any panes at all.  And there lying underneath the paneless pillow was the big old poodle, sleeping away, oblivious to my embarrasment.
"Wife!" The bodyless voice boomed again, "Where is that useless dog?"
Terrified, I cried out, "Under the window!"
"Oh." Said the voice, sounding closer now. "Where is my food?"
"I... I didn't make it yet."
"Oh." Said the voice again, now just beyond the far door to the room with the chandaliers.
The door creaked open, I must have the maids fix that, and suddenly stopped. Curiosity got the better of me, as it usually does and went to the door to see who was behind it.
Truly, I expected a giant, as a giant would fit through the gigantic door, but instead, a little man came through it, not much higher than my knee. And he was all dressed in blue.
"Wife!" He boomed, "Fetch me my food!"
Distraught, at being his wife, then being told to do things as a common maid, I dashed through the doorway that he had just come through and fell....

Meeting

Housework, chores, whatever you name it, it has the same effect on the person that is doing it. After a while of running around the house that I had once loved, I had a wave of emotions flow over me and I had to sit down. 
What was funny about the wall that was behind me, was that it seemed to be talking, like there were a number of voices just speaking out of it. Quite obviously there was a door somewhere, but the door that had once been there was sealed away. The frame was filled with the sticky white stuff that sometimes goes between the wall and the stuffy stuff to keep in the heat. Its sticky, smelly and apparantly kills, quickly, so its best to keep it away from your lungs. 
As I was sitting I realized that the voices were not coming from behind the door, they were coming from within the door.  The further scared me, I scooted as far as I could away from the door without reaching the landing and realized that I wasn't leaning against the first door, I was leaning against the wall between the two bedrooms.  As I looked at the wall, it began to pulse, as if it was made of cloth and not sheetrock and cement.  Becoming dizzy I closed my eyes and hung my head between my legs. 
I had the sudden urge to look up and when I did had the strengh I swung my head upward and tried to focus on the polished brown shoes in front of me. As I stared, the right one began tapping impationatly. 
I believed that I was dehydrated, because I asked the shoe, of all things, if I could have a drink of water for my splitting headache.  The shoe, or so I thought, answered, "Get downstairs."
I refocoused and slowly looked up from the base, first the polished shoes, then the perfectly ironed brown pants, then a trimmed cumbersome, followed by a white buttondown covering a sunken chest then finally a small neck burrowed into a high coller.  The neck was connected to a fairly small head, and the face that was this person looked very familiar. He had a small tight mouth, high arching eyebrows and thinning hair.  He peered down at me from his specticles, the right eye's top frame was held together with thin strips of duct tape. Again I heard the tapping foot.
Frustrated the little man yanked me off of the balcony and propped me against the fabricated wall and began dusting me off while the whole time muttering about cold food. "Cold food," I said, "What does that have to do with anything?"
He gave my side one last frustrated brush and stood up to his full height, almost 5'4". Almost motherly he shooed me down the stairs with no direction, just the faint mumerings of 'cold food!'

Topsy-yvruT

More questions, seriously no answers. I was stumped. Walking around the house I suddenly had the feeling that I was about to get into trouble.  Very big trouble.  I had a flashback to when I was sitting in a stadium taking pictures of the concert, and a one of the attendants started pointing at me, almost accusingly. I pretended to not see him and put away my camera quickly.  Fortunately he wasn't eyeing me, he was eyeing the other attendant and trying to get her attention for some reason. I had that same exact feeling in my throat about this.
I ducked into the nearest doorway, just to be out of the way, you never knew what was behind these walls. As I opened the door someone walked through dressed fairly royally and pushed a tray into my hand. He pointed to the stairs and whispered 'room 2B' then shut the door right behind him.
I cautiously went back down the hallway I was just avoiding and came to a flight of stairs. I must have looked very awkward carrying a tray of food and wearing a backpack full of food.  Going up the stairs I saw a table so I left the tray there and hid again behind a statue of some sort to see where I was. And to also see if I could hide my backpack so I could take the place of a servant if need be. 
After five minutes nothing had happened, not even a creak was heard, it was as if the entire building was holding its breath for some reason. 
I dropped by careworn backpack behind the statue, not like anyone was going to look behind it anyways, and stole back over to the tray of food. As I was picking it up, another man walked up the stairs.  Trying to act busy I pretended to check the temperature of the food.
He barked at me "What is taking you so long? Take it to them now!" He pushed me towards the room marked 2B and shoved me inside.  I noticed a minute later that he was dressed in fine clothes as well.  I imagined that these people were so rich that they dressed their servants decently as well.  I was wrong in this assumption as well.  I was not mistaken for a servant in my ragtag clothes.  I was mistaken for a person of high importance.
In this Topsy-turvy level of the house, the generals and men of power served the lowly class servants, who wore their clothes, ate their food and had basic run of the house. Sure when the generals and other men and women of higher authority went to work they still held their authority, but they had to do the work them selves. There were no servants, secretary's or coffee boys.  They were forced to do the work themselves, as well as take care of the house and home, and eat the scraps off of the servants dish.  There was no name for this kind of world, it was democratic, or communist, it was odd. 
I was fortunate to have food in my bag, but how was I going to retrieve it when forced to be in a room of servants and other people of power? I couldn't get away from the housework they forced upon me!
Help!

Back to the Beginning

I was missing something, but I didn't know what, so thinking logically I decided to cross the bridge again, and see where it got me. I cautiously went between the new buildings that had sprung up in a matter of minutes and headed to where I thought the bridge still was.  Fortunately it was between a little Italian diner and it seemed to be a pawn shop. The old water shed was gone, and the river was polluted but all I cared about was the bridge. In the matter of time that had supposedly passed the bridge lost its railings, and a few boards were missing in the center.
Again with great caution I crossed the bridge again to reach the other side that I used to sled down and pick raspberries from in the Spring.  I was almost at the end when the boards gave away and I stumbled knocking my head against the dilapidated bridge.  When I came to I saw that the landscape had changed again.
This time the skyscrapers were no longer in place, the house was a little more looked after but the most important part there was smoke coming out of the chimney!
What should have struck me odd before I ran up the hill was that it felt like the middle of the summer, and there was no truck in the driveway. The garden was dead and overgrown, and the front door was broken. How stupid and nieve I was to try to waltz right in. How idiotic to think that someone that I knew would be in the basement ready to greet me.
Being bold and stupid I almost walked into the basement. Almost. Right before I did I heard a scream. Not a mousey scream like when they get stuck in the traps, but a full bloody murder I-don't-want-to-die scream. I spun around with my back against the basement outside door. I had only seen a glimpse but it would haunt me forever.
Where there once was a peaceful workbench with hammer and nails there was now maces, clubs and stakes. The stove was opened to be wider and there were heatened iron rods. Cages hung on the cieling with people inside! A large bear of a man was shaking a cage with his left hand right next to the door laughing at the poor soul inside. In his right hand he held a whip that swayed as he shook the cage and gave the impression of a very large snake.  The man in the cage was the one that was screaming and he was bleeding from the right temple, I had never seen that much blood on one person. I prayed as I hid next to the doorframe that the man would find peace in death. There was nothing I could do, I was no nurse, and certainly no hero. 
I darted across the doorway to reach the backyard but as I did I upset the pebble pile around the corner. Nauseated I realized that they weren't pebbles... they were teeth!
I bit my tounge and rushed to the backyard, I could hear the bear shuffle across the concrete floor and I knew he would hit me with the whip if I didn't move fast enough! I finally made it around the second corner and heaved a sigh of relief. But it didn't last for long. Before me stood another building, another skyscraper that was disguised as a group of trees. I did not see it as I crossed the bridge before because I thought it was a set of trees.
Who would hide a skyscraper like that? Again I was left with more questions than answers.

Changing Times

There was nothing left for me at the old house, I took the last bit of momentos that were stuck under the floorboards and looked out the window one last time. I saw the familiar yard, with the dying gardens, the missing apple trees, the emptiness of everything, the neighbors house, the old cannon, the horse stable... Cannon? There was never a cannon when I lived here?
I moved closer to the window to see the new addition to the neighbors yard. There was a person, dressed in green moving closer and closer, I laughed, he was not doing a very good job at hiding behind the trees I could see him dart infront of every rock and every tree, then behind the horse stable, then finally next to the cannon. With a start he wasn't hiding from someone looking from my angle, he was hiding from someone from the neighbors house point of view.
I watched him load the cannon, first with the gunpowder, packed it down, searched his pockets for a light. He swung the cannon around and angled it towards the house, closer and closer, then finally aimed it at the window I was looking through.  I ran from the window, down the stairs and down to the back door. I heard the cannon fire hit the house, shattering windows, breaking the walls, destroying the house. Wood splinters flew around me gouging at my arms, my legs, ripping my shirt, the bag I ran down to the basement. The house followed me down, the stairs ripped up under my feet as I ran down into the cement basement.
There was only way out was the back basement door and I ran before he reloaded.
I exited and ran down the dirt road brushing off what I could of the pieces of house and looked at the backyard. In the moments that I was in the house the landscape had changed again, the trees were replaced by pavement, the river polluted, skycrapers filled the blank spaces between the two houses. I couldn't recognize anything that was once familiar. The once peaceful backyard had turned into a busy city, but it lacked the people.
What year was I in now? Where was my family? Where was, I?

Rebellious

My family had left me behind.  Behind in a year. Behind in the old home. Behind in a town I hardly recognized anymore. I couldn't go home, I couldn't go to a family home, I couldn't go anywhere. 
I never knew my family to be part of a rebellious group, much less want to go to Alaska! Alaska is cold, unchartered, full of polar bears and unknown snowy creatures. Sure there was lots to do but what were they doing? I grew scared. I had more questions.
Why had they left me behind? If it wasn't 2011 then what year was it? They could not have had enough time to pack up and leave quickly like they were on the run. Or were they? The more questions I had the more confused I was. 
I snuck in through the back door to my grandparents house to snoop around, more so to look for supplies.  Some odd reason, the inner rooms to the house were not cleared! As if someone wanted to give the impression that the house was empty and for sale.  Something smelled fishy, and it wasn't the rotting fish in the fridge.  I packed up the perishables that I could find in the cabinets, inner closet and in the basement. I wasn't really in the mood to leave anything behind. I used a backpack that Grandpa used when he was going to the gym. For good measure I checked the phone logs and the calenders in her office.  Both said 2011. All her important documents were gone, some clothes were gone from the dressers upstairs but what struck me the most odd was that a few pictures were definitely gone.  Mom's wedding picture was off the wall and missing, as well as the 50th Wedding Anniversary pictures.  Was there anything else missing? Where did they go?
For good measure I took one of the blankets that she had made years ago, it was one of my favorites and I'd be needing it, the nights were still a little chilly. 
I headed back out the back door and took the long way around to the house I used to call home. Again I noticed how small and empty it looked.  I didn't expect to find answers here either.  Everything was gone, the garage was emptied, the house in every corner was empty, even the back yard sheds had surrendered under the pressure and collapsed hiding everything that could give answers in a large pile. 
Again I snuck in through the basement, I knew the best way to sneak in because of the broken lock. There were no answers here either, nothing left for me to find. 
I was halfway back out the basement door when I remembered that my sister and I used to hide notes to each other in the closet we shared.  In the closet we had jimmied a floor plank up and hid little things in there. 
I ran up the stairs, bulging backpack and all and flung the closet door open. The level of dust on the closet floor gave me hope, no one had been up there in a long while.
I carefully ripped the floor board up and gave a sigh of relief. She had left me a note, the bad part was that it was in the secret code we made up as kids, I was going to have so much fun deciphering it.

Bad Timing

It began the night that I walked to my Grandmothers from the little foot bridge that was built years ago.  We got sick of walking through the water so we built it.  We have plans to replace the bridge in the spring, there were a few boards that were missing pieces, it still worked but we needed to take precautions. Who wanted to be dunked in a cold spring in the middle of the afternoon?
When I arrived at my Grandmothers house I noticed a young couple, somewhere in thier twenties looking at the house.  The garden flowers were dead, the trees wilted, the ornaments were gone and the house looked... empty. The paint was peeling on the side walls, there were missing shingles on the roof, the jeep in the basement was gone from the window, there was no one home. Where were my Grandparents?
I walked up to the young couple, from the distance they seemed not much older than twenty five, and as I went closer my assumptions were correct.  The girl seemed to be a few months along in a pregnancy as well.  I pretened to be checking my watch and said the date, "April 2nd 2011... Is that the right date?"
They laughed at my apparant stupidity.  It was not 2011 they told me, at to make matters worst they would not tell me the real year date.  We wandered around the dilapilated garden chatting quietly, when suddenly, Molly, the pregnant girl, pulled me aside and warned me to go away - to leave quickly.
I asked her "Why?"
She told me she couldn't tell me - she could be targed next. "Head as North as you can, your family is there with the rest of the rebellian."
Thomas pulled her away and she gave a faint goodbye smile... I called back to her I hope you remember to look for that door like I told you about!" I hope it helped bring her hubby Thomas off of the scent of what she really told me.
Where was my family? And what year was it?