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„What am I even supposed to do with this?”
Still in his suit, Mikail was resting on the small couch in his bedroom. It was short, not even big enough to let him stretch out comfortably. His legs were too long for the old dark red furniture. The green tartan pattern was already fading.
It was one of the old furniture pieces that were basically hand-me-downs to him and as they were still fine and comfortable enough to not complain about, Mikail never bothered to ask for something new. The couch must be at least twenty years old. His mother sat on it in her early twenties he was certain. Long before he was even born.
And in this very moment, he would bet it was the same age as this little crystal he was holding in his hand. It was as long as his ring finger, almost equally thick and had strong edges although the edges felt smooth and were fun to let your fingers run over them. There was a small metal hook at one end and a thin string made it into a necklace.
The stone itself was clear. Pretty plain and boring actually. Mikail wasn’t into stones and crystals in general, so he hadn’t been thrilled when he got the stone. But upon closer inspection, it was even more boring than he initially thought.
“What was that old man thinking?”
Just a few hours ago, his mom and he had been at his grandfather’s funeral. Don’t you think badly of Mikail. Yes, he does sound harsh and indifferent about the recent death of his maternal grandfather. But he had never met the man. All he knew about him was coming from stories his mother had told him. And they weren’t the best. A narcissist, self-obsessed and cruel to his mom during her formative years. He kicked her out once he knew she was pregnant. From that point on, there hadn’t been any relationship worth speaking of between the old man and Mikail’s mom or Mikail.
Knowing some of the bad stories was enough for him to be honest.
One couldn’t really blame him if he didn’t want a keepsake from that old man. And not one as plain looking as well. Everything would have been so much more interesting. An old watch. Old figurines. Books. Anything but this.
Mikail twirled the stone between his fingers and held it up to his eyes. It was so plain looking. Nothing but clear glass. Mikail sighed loudly. Maybe, he could keep it for a week or two and then he could throw it out without any guilt.
Just at that moment the crystal dangled from his hand, it hit a warm sunbeam falling through the tiny skylight. The light hit the glass. And Mikail could swear it shined brightly for a second. He frowned. With another twirl he was certain. With every second, it also absorbed the light and caught it inside. The crystal was growing warm. Warmer and warmer. Then almost that hot for Mikail to drop it. His fingers just shifted, almost clinging to the crystal. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but he didn’t want to let go too soon. He had to keep holding on.
The boy squinted at the crystal. With all the light it had sucked in, he expected it to release at the same time. But for moments, nothing happened. Nothing at all. That was until Mikail raised it further above his head, positioned it even more in his line of sight. And suddenly, there was a reflection. In bright colours, every colour of the rainbow, shined a beam of light coming from the crystal. It came in such clarity as if Mikail was holding it into direct sunlight. He wasn’t. There was nothing but the stored light. As weird as it sounded. The colours hit the wood of the panelled ceiling, drew a wide rainbow and then vanished. With as little proof of its existence as light usually left behind. Aside from a small wooden door.
A small door with sides all equal in size and just big enough that Mikail could squeeze right through if he really tried to.
The odd thing about it was actually that this door was new. For as long as Mikail could remember he was sleeping in living in this bedroom. He knew every corner, every nook. Every cranny. One corner was notoriously losing paint so every year he had to paint over it. The carpet has seen better days and wasn’t fluffy or soft anymore. It was merely a bolstered hardwood floor at this point. In the wall next to the door was a tiny hole that was just big enough to first hold his Legos and then later some of his spare pocket money. Right under his bed was a dark spot in the carpet after he had spilt some juice when he was horribly sick in seventh grade.
Mikail knew his room.
But this door.
This one was new.
It was oddly new! How did a door just appear at his ceiling?!
Mikail put the crystal in his pocket and stood up on the couch, reaching high. The door handle felt warm in his hand. It wasn’t closed. With one push, he opened the door. Birds sang behind it. He saw grass.
He sneezed loudly when he caught a sniff of the air full of pollen.
The light was warm and bright, clearly very early in the morning. So different from all the parks he had seen in his life so far. Some countryside maybe? Mikail tried to catch another glimpse, see something more. Find the answer to what exactly he was seeing there.
Effortlessly, he climbed in.
This was insane.
He was really standing in a flower field, no houses somewhere to be seen. This for sure wasn’t a place near his home. His eyes wandered around. Shaking let his body vibrate, shook him through and through. Adrenalin shot through his body, made his heart pump. No in excitement but panic.
What was that?!
He twirled around, looking for a reason for that sound. A sound as loud and numbing as if an aeroplane was just starting right next to him. But all Mikail heard and saw was the door falling shut behind him and vanishing in the next second.
Shit.