Lost World Home

Lost World Home

(Clandestine Universe)

The night felt lively to Esme. There was an electric buzz that crackled in the air as she swept her dark auburn hair into a high ponytail. Quickly she braided it, tied it off with an elastic band, then grabbed the go-bag from her bed. By then, she was sure that Amber was waiting at the rendezvous point.

            Amber had perfect blond hair, blue eyes, and was never late. In fact, she was always early and prepared. On the other hand, Esme forgot that her father came home late on Fridays, so the night's plans were delayed. It took an hour for him to finish his routine.

Esme had wrapped herself in a snug bundle of blankets when he peeked in. Mr. Richman always checked on his four kids before taking a shower or slipping under the covers with his sleeping wife. 

When she was sure that he was asleep, Esme slunk down the stairs and into the living room. It was spacious and clean. Dying embers in the fireplace emitted a dim glow that barely lit her path around the coffee table to the back door.

            A lantern sat on an end table by a plate for keys. Her father's initials, E.R for Earl Richman, were carved into the lantern's handle. The lantern felt heavy in her hand, but she clipped it to her belt anyways.

            Outside, the streetlamp illuminated the cobblestone streets. A forlorn carriage rested by the walkway, near the stables where Sparta and Achilles were resting. Naming mares after legends was good luck, and her father was superstitious. Sparta was an older steed with years of experience that made him reliable.

            It didn't take long to adjust the saddle or brush the mare's dark brown hair. They were on the street within minutes. A riding hood flared behind her like a cape as Sparta carried her to the edge of the forest. Homes disappeared in the distance, and the guardian posts were not yet in sight.

            Amber was standing on the edge of the tree line with a saddlebag. Her mare Chelsea was already hidden in the foliage and tethered to a birch tree. Their venture into the thicket wasn't suitable for a horse, so Esme did the same.

            "Are you certain about this," Amber asked while clutching the broach that closed her riding hood. The cloak was black with a simple embroidery on the trim. Shimmery black statin ribbons were laced through twin blond braids, and perfect lashes framed frightened spinel eyes. Esme wondered if there was any fear in her own brown eyes. She hoped not.

            "I'm more certain about this than anything," Esme reassured her friend and brushed a leaf off the girl's shoulder. The hoods hid their faces and identities as they pushed forward. Guardians would be patrolling the forest soon, and they didn't want to get caught. Consequences for exploring lost world buildings could range from jail time or worse; a place in the Queen's Cleansing, which was little more than a glorified death lottery.

            They mostly navigated the forest by touch. Rough bark rubbed their gloves while twigs scraped their cloaks. The thick fabric guarded their skin from poison ivy and other poisonous plants. Once they felt that they were a safe distance from the street, Esme lit her father's lantern.

            A warm glow exposed the narrow space between the oak trees. It was a sign they were moving in the right direction. They had to turn their bodies sideways to slip between the trees. Bark scraped their checks and left shallow scratches, but it was worth seeing what laid in the clearing.

            A wall of trees hid a house from view. It wasn't built in the same style of guardian posts or townhomes. It was wider than it was tall and took up land selfishly. Whoever built it didn't follow the laws that even laymen understood.

            "Why would someone build such a large step way? It's almost a whole outdoor room." Amber reached out to a wooden railing. Esme followed her onto the raised platform connected to the odd house. There was enough space for a table, couch, and then some. There was a fire pit in the corner.

            "Geez, it's bigger than my living room." Esme raised a lamp so they could get a better look. Despite the obvious age, it was still in decent condition. The floors felt solid beneath their feet, and there weren't any signs of water damage. Esme felt confident that the inside would be in even better condition.

            Amber asked out loud, "Why on earth are animals staying anyway from here?"

            "Who cares?" Esme rolled her eyes, "This place is perfect for our secret club. Nobody will find us." The door was simple. It lacked the fancy trimming that she expected to find on a unique home. She reached and tried to twist to the doorknob. It was locked, so she passed the lantern off to her partner in crime.

            "I'm just saying," Amber stepped back while Esme knelt on one knee and pulled out a small silver box. "Smaller animals could get through the trees, so why wouldn't they want to take refuge here. It's not like the larger predators would beat them here."

            Esme pulled two pins from the box and focused on the soft clicks the lock made. "Maybe there's rat traps inside."

            "I'm not sure this is the best place to hide ourselves." Amber stated, "It's the exact place I'd picture a team of lost world enthusiasts hiding." 

            "Isn't that a good thing?" Esme asked.

            "No, because it'd be the first place they look."

            "Except no one else but us, and Jeremy knows it exists."

Before Amber could respond, the lock popped, and the door swayed forward. Esme took the lantern back. A nob screwed into the base's side was used to control the flame's intensity. When Esme twisted it, the fire jumped, and the light launched out in all directions.

            The door opened into a foyer wide enough for three men to stand shoulder to shoulder without knocking over the dusty vase. Dead stems drooped over the vase's edge while dried petals were scattered across a half-circle table and the hardwood floor. Esme's front door opened into the kitchen, and so did Amber's. Even the average noble wouldn't waste land for a foyer.

            Reserving land, especially fertile land, was crucial. Plantations were the nation's lifeblood. Everyone was taught by the schoolteachers that the entire world depended on their nation's farms and plantations for a reliable food source. The goddess blessed their nation's land in exchange for a promise to cherish it. Buildings were tall but not wide, and there was little space between them.

            Some exceptions were made but not recklessly. Hospitals could build larger rooms to make space for the needs of workers, equipment, and patients. But this house took up the entire clearing for unnecessary luxuries. The home was a crime.

            Amber spoke up, "This has to be a lost world home. Nobody today would ever build something like this."

Esme stepped inside and swept her light over the walls to the end of the foyer. A long table was centered in a single room in front of a large window. Curtains with frayed edges and loose strains flowed down over them. A chandelier with three bars anchoring it to the ceiling hung over the table.

            "This looks like a dining room." Esme stated, "I think you're right" Amber kept close to her. Esme could smell her friend's floral perfume.

            Amber said, "It's crazy to think ancient homes for normal families had rooms just for eating."

 Despite the layers of dust Esme could picture a family like hers sitting at the table. While she and her parents sat on the floor in the living room with her parents and three brothers, warm food was spread out on the table.

            In this odd home, she pictured her mother at the head of the table. Fresh beans and rolls would be served on shiny blue plates. Tea would slosh in fancy goblets. The ancients were masters of capitalism, according to their teachers. But then their teachers also swore the ancient's fell victim to their own greed on a grand act of karma.

            That was all the information they could find about the lost world, using legal methods. Researching the lost world has always been taboo, as far as they could tell. Everything they left behind felt dangerous, but Esme was convinced that people were too cowardly and lacked curiosity. 

            That was why she appreciated Amber. Esme watched as her friend moved to what they assumed was the living room. A long L-shaped couch was pressed against a wall across from an overbearing cabinet. On closer inspection, they found old books on the verge of disintegrating into dust. In the center was a screen that was connected to nothing.

            Amber noticed the apparent lack of wires first. She tensed up, watching Esme crane her neck to peer behind the screen. When Esme pulled back, dust bunnies collected in her braid and bangs. Amber was relieved to see that nothing fell to crush or break any bones. Even with the lantern, she found it hard to trust the old wood flooring under their feet.      

            The dust alone was concerned the more scholarly teen. Pathogens could hide under the layers. One undeniable truth was that something had to have killed the lost world's citizens. Amber decided to take a closer look at the books. The letters were too faded to read, but she was surprised that they had any books at all. According to legends, they had magical plaques that could summon any book they wished for.

            "Why would they want books," Amber asked.

            Esme turned away from inspecting an old picture of generic mountains, "Maybe they liked reading."

            "Yes, but," Amber walked toward her partner, "They didn't need physical books. Plus, that doesn't explain why they are in this room and not in their sleeping room."

            "Maybe they ran out of space," Esme joked, earning only a small smile. "I think there's stairs right over there." She was right. On the far side of the living room was a wide staircase. A railing ran up the wall leading to a platform. Esme tested the first step then darted up like a child on their birthday.

            "Esme," Amber snapped. "Be careful. One of those steps could've broken, and you would be stranded."

With more care than her partner, Amber ascended to the next floor. The wood creaked and wined beneath her.

            Esme rolled her brown eyes "Relax." Together and guided by the lantern, they continued down the corridor. Their eyes absorbed every detail they could. More paintings of mountains were framed, and the wall paint had chipped. Brick was exposed on the inside, but the outside appeared to be pure wood

            That was something that stuck out to Amber. Another detail that stood out to her was how short-sighted her friend was. In the first room they explored, they found a tub, sink, and toilet. It didn't take a scientist to understand that this was a bathroom. Lotions and body sprays were stocked in a cupboard near the door.

            "We should take something with us," Esme stated.

            "No," Amber blurted, "We should not."

            "But having souvenirs would be great. Plus, it could be proof that we aren't cowards."

            Amber nodded. "Exactly. Let's not keep evidence of our illegal activity."

            "Fair but"- Esme held up a half-empty bottle of chunky expired lotion to the light, "Don't you want proof that they smelt like lavender and rosewater."

            "I want to stay out of jail." Amber said, "Let's move on to the next room." Thankfully Esme didn't argue. Instead, she plucked an unfamiliar coin from the sink counter when Amber turned around.

            They toured three sleep rooms in total. Each one was at least twice the size of their own, with plenty of room for more than just a bed, clothes, and personal belongings. Amber had a bookshelf built into her bedframe while her clothes were stored in drawers built-in on the other side

            "I expected there to be more…." Esme paused. The correct word was hard to find. The rooms were identical in more than just dimension but design too. From what they could tell, the sheets had been white when they were new. There was nothing to indicate what the residents enjoyed or did. Other than the books downstairs, they had no idea what this mystery family did with their time.

            "Personality," Amber finished. Esme nodded and started inspecting the walls. The paint felt grimy and left a gray film on her tanned fingers. In the amber light, there were two pale blue lines where she had dragged her fingers.

            "Why do the windows look so weird," Amber asked out loud while pointing to the far wall. Esme swiftly stood in front of the window. In the light, they could see the metal grate covering a vent. It wasn't a window after all.

            "That's strange," Amber stated. Esme smirked and handed her the light. "Sure is." Thin fingers like hers were just small enough to slip through the grate. What she expected to feel was the brush of cool spring wind. The vent was like a void, and her fingers disappeared in the darkness.

            "Are you sure that's a good idea?" Amber questioned.

            "Maybe we can find a switch or something for it?" Esme scanned the room. Coffee eyes bounced ran along the four walls.

            "Okay," Amber stated, "Now that's a bad idea." As true as her words were, they had no effect. Esme still found what she was looking for in the corner. Before Amber could voice a second protest, there was a heavy clunk. Startled, she jumped back. Their stares were aimed at the vent.

            A moment passed, lulling them in a mix of relief and disappointment. Then there was a second clunk, and a puff of gray fog started to bellow out. Immediately Amber leaped into the hallway.

            "Relax," Esme rolled her eyes but followed her. "It's just backed up with dust." The cloud spread through the sleeping room. Amber held the lantern like it was a shield as the murky fog rolled toward them.

            A sudden burning sensation sparked in their chests. Esme clutched her chest first. A pained grimace marred her otherwise robust features.

            "We should go," Amber said while rubbing her sternum. The burn shifted into a sting. As she turned toward the stairs, the sting leaped from her lungs to her feet. Paralyzed by the overwhelming pain, she collapsed. Glass shattered as the lantern collided with the wooden floor.

            The fire was free from its iron and glass prison to roam. Above her, the gray cloud crackled. Esme's frightened eyes were the last image she saw before the gas ignited. She burned on both the inside and out.

Tall flames enveloped the perfect blond teen. Their teachers' favorite student was eaten alive by a monstrous swarm of savage flames. It was enough to drown the sting that invaded her limbs. The scream was deafening and blocked her thoughts.

It felt like years passed before she could move, but Esme was halfway down the stairs before the fire reached the first step. She beat the fire to the front door and kept running. While the fire climbed the house's walls to reach the night sky, she squeezed between the trees. She kept running until it was too dark to see in front of her.

It wasn't until she was safe in her room that it hit her. There was no scream or dramatic crescendo of violins. An overwhelming silence laced the garish vision of Amber's last moments. It was too late to go back for the dead girl’s horse.

The knowledge that her parents were fast asleep in a room across from her brothers was the only reason that Esme's cry didn't spoil the peace. Instead, her knees dropped at the foot of her bed. The sheet felt soft against her sweaty forehead. They still held onto the scent of lavender soap that her mother used.

Amber's mother used the same one. In her secret grief, Esme uttered a death prayer under her breath. If the goddess was as merciful as she was graceful, then this would be enough to save both their souls. Under warm layers of blankets and comforters, she cried. Her hand was tightly clasped around her mouth.

"There was nothing you could do," she whispered to herself over and over. The sun rose before she had the courage to emerge from the makeshift den. The weekend passed before her parents barged into her room.

At first, her parents thought she had caught a cold. It was early in the year to catch the flu but not impossible. Now her mother pressed a soft hand against her forehead. Downstairs her father was looking for his lantern; he had to leave for work in a few minutes.

            "I'm fine, mom," Esme groaned, then rolled over to face the wall. She prayed that her mother would leave before tears streamed down her puffy face. It didn't help that there was no good excuse to be in bed on such a sunny spring day.

             It was unlike her to not be outside to soak up the sun alongside her older brothers and friends. Usually, Amber would be waiting for her on the step way. Amber was the punctual one. Amber was the smart one. Amber was the dead one.

            "You don't feel warm." her mother's voice was smooth like sweet caramel.

            Esme protested the soft hand on her shoulder. "Mom, I'm fine. Can you just leave me alone?" For a moment, she thought that the goddess had answered her prayer. Her mother sighed, and this usually meant that the conversation was over. But it didn't mean that Mis Richman was done talking.

            "Amber's mother came by yesterday." Shock rippled through Esme. Part of her genuinely believed that if she stayed there, the whole night could be left in the past.

            "So?" Esme forged the best sarcastic tone she could. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Well, she wanted to know if Amber was here." A million responses reeled through Esme's mind. She tried to imagine how a normal teenage girl with zero secrets would reply.

            "If I wanted her to sleep over, I would've asked first," she spat and sounded genuinely offended.

            "Wow, hold on, dear" her mother reached over to sweep dark bangs behind a cold ear. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I just wanted to ask if you knew where your friend was." Instead of answering, Esme let a heavy silence hang between them. No response seemed to suit her situation. Confessing to her mother wouldn't provide any comfort or relief.

            It would tear her family apart. "Do you?" Her mother asked.

            "No." she finally answered and shrugged to enforce it.

            "She didn't tell you anything?" her mother asked again. "Don't you two tell each other everything"

            "We did" the words sounded weepier than Esme intended. But it was too late to take them back.

            "Did you have a fight?"

            "Something like that"

            "If you know something, you should tell me. Amber's mother is terrified. Her daughter is missing"

            "I have nothing to say" Esme pulled the comforter over her head and refused to answer any more questions. 

Another three days passed, and Amber's mother stopped by a total of five times. Once Esme sat across from her at the table in the living room.

Red eyes were sinking into a puffy face. Golden locks were swept into a bun to hide the dull split ends. A crumpled napkin was clutched tightly in the woman's hand. It didn't take a genius to see where Amber got her looks. But Esme knew this wasn't how the woman typically appeared.

There was a stain on the blue velvet coat that matched crystal blue eyes. Dirt was caked under painted nails while wrinkles assaulted her long blue skirt. Esme was certain that the white shirt beneath the coat hadn't been ironed.

Seeing the distraught woman didn't assuage the guilt welling up inside. The truth was still chained behind steel doors where it couldn't hurt anyone. Grief was worse than concern. Esme repeated that self-authored adage every time someone asked her about Esme or talked about her father's missing lantern.

At least her father was able to resolve the last issue. It wasn't until the guardian found a body that she broke. While the sun descended in the sky, a man dressed in silver arm knocked on her door. At the time, she had been nestled safely in a cocoon of blankets and stuffed animals. 

"NO!" her mother's voice thundered downstairs. While her brothers were away, she was the only one left to dart down the stairs. Heat flooded her system and brought fresh color to her face. But it drained away when she saw the cuffs.

"It's okay, hun." her father said calmly. In the wake of her friend's disappearance, her father had come home early. She had ignored his kind hands and soft words. But it was impossible to turn a blind eye to what she saw now.

"What's going on?" She asked, "What are you doing with my dad?"

"It's okay," the knight spoke. "You don't have to keep his secret anymore."

"No," Esme lurched forward, "you can't take him away." Immediately arms wrapped around her, and her father's soft words stood apart from the chaos.

"We'll get a lawyer, and everything will be fine,"

"I DID IT!" the words dropped like a bag of rocks. Stunned faces met her teary face as she repeated herself, "It's my fault. I wanted to explore the lost world home and then… There was a gas and a fire, and- and." Her confession was sloppy. It fell apart in her hands like a poorly assembled model.

            The world around her fell away. The guardian placed the cuffs on her thin wrist. Esme barely heard her mother wail as her father tried to reason with the guardian. She couldn't remember when her father pleaded to take her place. But at least her family would be okay. She told herself that her mother would forget, and her brothers would grow up fine without a sister. Her parents would enjoy having three fine strapping boys.