This might be some kind of mistake. Or a dream.

The behemoth just five meters ahead of us—the one we found unrealistic—was a dilapidated edifice stretching from one side of the woods to the other. We couldn’t see the far end as it was heavily enshrouded by coconut-looking trees, which we all agreed to call "cocohair trees," visible through the windows and cracks. Yet, memory-wise, we might know how massive it was.

The cry we heard—and still ongoing—came from a fire alarm. It was still functional and noisy despite the building's condition.

I was about to warn everyone to be cautious when Chevonne, once again, sprinted toward the main facade, entering through the wide-open entrance. Shards of glass littered the threshold where doors should have been. We followed her quickly to avoid losing sight of her.

The sound finally ceased. She must have turned it off already.

We tiptoed inside, awestruck as we crossed the main gate—ironically, without gates—and proceeded through the entrance with caution. We examined each run-down piece of furniture and the ceiling, thick with ancient-looking cobwebs. Vines slithered through cracks and holes in the walls, which were covered by an antediluvian layer of niter. Each step we took kicked up clouds of dust and pollen, swirling in the stale air. A pungent smell coated the atmosphere, crinkling our noses as we tried to verify the facts of this farce.

I believed everything here was a farce.

“Chevonne! Where are you going?” I shouted up the main staircase where we last saw her. It was nearly crumbling.

“I’m going to check something upstairs.”

“Be careful with your steps! I think those stairs might give way under your weight,” I blurted without thinking, immediately regretting it. "No, um, that’s not what I mea—”

“Is that your way of calling me fat?” Chevonne shouted back, her head sticking out from the small gap between the U-shaped staircase. She was already on the third floor.

“No, that’s not what I meant! I’m saying this building is old enough to crumble any minute now!”

“I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t worry about me. I know the way.”

“Yes, of course, we all know the way—if this is what I think it is! Just be careful!”

“Stop whining! I told you I’ll be back in a minute!” she shouted, louder than before, then disappeared from view. Were we fighting? I knew I should be worried because our friendship was on the line, but I couldn’t help thinking we looked like a couple having an argument.

“No, just… We’ll be there, so wait for us,” I called back weakly, doubting she even heard me.

No reply. Damn. She must have gone to the next floor already.

Finlay appeared from behind, holding something bone-white and long. “Cher, is this real?”

I snatched it from him, examining the structure. I couldn’t tell if it was authentic. Chevonne could probably identify it if she hadn’t rushed upstairs without a word.

That woman.

I couldn’t stay mad at her, though. That attitude of hers—stubborn, sharp—was oddly endearing.

“Where did you find this?” I asked.

“There, near the elevator. Lots of them inside with piles of dust around.”

We pushed through thick underbrush that had somehow crept indoors, reaching the elevator. I peered inside and saw leafy plants sprouting through cracks and holes in the rusted lift. The bones were easy to spot, heaped in a corner. Some had crumbled into powder as fine as sand. They didn’t look human. They could be animal remains left behind by whatever had lived here.

We explored the rest of the first floor. It was a wide, open space of about a hundred square meters, choked with overgrowth and rubble. Some debris seemed to have fallen from above—there was a gaping hole in the ceiling, exposing the next floor's roof.

As we stepped in, the satisfying crunch beneath our feet made me glance down. Finlay crouched, picked something from my tracks, and held it up. I immediately grabbed it from him, kneeling to examine the spot where he’d found it.

God, another pile of bones.

After checking the wide space, just making sure it was what I thought it was, we climbed upstairs and skipped the second floor. The staircase was slightly crumbling; pieces of cement detached from the steps as we moved, even though we were slow and careful. We set foot on the third floor, and I immediately noticed the ceiling here was higher compared to the first floor, which felt strange and invalidating. All rooms only reached halfway up the walls, leaving a wide gap between the top of the rooms and the ceiling.

This was wrong. It didn’t fit the puzzle at all.

We walked through the lobby where rubble blocked most rooms except the one adjacent to the main staircase. We approached and checked inside.

There was no roof.

It must have collapsed long ago, leaving the room open all the way to the high ceiling. Finlay nearly shoved me aside to enter first. He rummaged through the debris, picking objects with a strange, quiet focus. His lips curled into a melancholic smile as he stashed a palm-sized piece of wood into his gray trousers’ pocket. His uniform looked even more worn with every step we took through this farce of a place, searching for clues that might give us answers.

This building was a mystery. It had nothing to do with contacting the outside world, yet somehow, deep inside, we clung to the hope it could help us.

We forced our way into the other blocked rooms, only reinforcing my suspicions about this edifice. However, the ceiling’s unnatural height invalidated everything we thought we knew so far. If that was the case, how else was this different?

We returned to the main staircase when something fell from above—barely missing Finlay.

“Oh my… That was close!” he gasped, clutching his chest. His uniform crumpled in his grip, tearing slightly at the seams. He didn’t even notice.

A large chunk of rubble fell from above. It was heavy enough to be deadly from such a height.

I’d be in serious trouble if something happened to him. After all, I was responsible for my student’s safety.

The problem was—had it really fallen from the ceiling?

“Come here, Finlay. You’re such a lucky kid. From now on, I’m going to call you Lucky Kid. Seems like Lady Luck is on your side today,” I said in a pretentious, monotonous tone. I tried to sound indifferent, not wanting him to think I cared too much. But if he sensed it, the thought of it haunting my conscience for life made my stomach knot.

He dared to pick up the rubble, holding it up near his right eye with the other one closed—like a sniper locking on a target. I sighed, humoring him, and sank onto the third step of the staircase, watching him like a father watching over his growing child.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Cher! Come here. I found something interesting!” he called joyfully, still focused on his imaginary target.

“Oh? What could it be? An alien? Or your doppelganger? If it’s the latter, we’d have a problem,” I teased.

“No, cher. I think it’s what we’ve been looking for! You think this building’s something? Look at this!”

That statement—true or not—got me on my feet. I approached him quickly, impatience boiling in my chest. “What do you mean? Show me.”

“This rubble fits perfectly over there. Look at the middle wall.”

I followed his pointing finger and noticed the jagged edges on the mid-wall. That was something new. It hadn’t fallen from the ceiling at all.

I moved to the right wall, running my fingers along the rough cement edges clinging to the mid-wall. Realization hit fast enough it could knock me off my feet if it had been a punch. I rushed back to the staircase, climbing to the next landing before curving around toward the next flight—except it was gone. The whole section had collapsed, severing access to the next floor.

Turning back, I examined the rough edges where the steps had once been. They aligned perfectly with the jagged edges from the opposite wall. Sitting on the broken landing, I dangled my feet over the gap, the puzzle pieces snapping into place in my mind.

There had been another floor here once.

The ceiling wasn’t high at all. This space was two floors combined, the fourth floor had completely caved in on the third, creating the illusion of a vast atrium. Now, it made perfect sense why the rubble was scattered so thickly below.

I was so ecstatic about my achievement that I almost forgot about Chevonne.

“Hey, Lucky Kid, where do you think teacher Chevonne went? This looks like a dead end to me,” I asked, stupidly expecting a child to solve something I couldn’t figure out myself.

“So, is this really the building, cher? If it is, teacher Chevonne might have taken the fire exit to the fifth floor.”

Well, the kid still had some wits left in him.

*****

We soon removed all the rubble blocking the fire exit at the far corner of the lobby. It took a while because I did eighty percent of the work while Lucky Kid barely moved any debris out of the way.

It made me realize that if Chevonne had gone this way, the path would have been clear, right? Why did I keep asking questions with no answers? Damn, another question. I finally got tired of thinking and just went through the door. Lucky Kid followed.

We reached the fifth floor without breaking a sweat. Clearing the fire exit had been the hardest part since entering the building. The whole floor brought a nostalgic smile to my face. We shouted Chevonne’s name countless times but got no reply.

Lucky Kid lurched aside as a chunk of cement fell from the ceiling—Lady Luck hadn’t left him yet—leaving a hole large enough for us to see the stratus clouds in the sky. It was dipped in rich marmalade. It was almost nightfall. If we couldn’t find Chevonne soon, it would be a huge problem.

We searched room after room, full of rubble, cracks, vines, cobwebs, mold, and everything unpleasant. There was no sign of her. Where could she be? After checking the last room, something struck me—an idea I couldn’t shake off.

“Lucky Kid! Wait here. I’ll check the rooftop!” I shouted loud enough to echo across the entire floor. Hopefully, he heard me. The last thing I needed was him getting hit by falling debris or attacked by some wild animal lurking around.

Without waiting for a reply, I lurched back to the fire exit and climbed to the rooftop. Plants, vines, and leafy greenery I’d never seen before covered the area. There were even smaller versions of cocohair trees and holes large enough for me to pass through—or fall through.

I searched every corner, and there, at the farthest edge of the rooftop, almost silhouetted against the luminous sunset, was Chevonne.

Even her silhouette looked stunning.

“Why weren’t you answering us? I don’t doubt you can hear us here,” I called out.

“Sorry for that, and thank you for looking for me,” she replied with a small smile. I noticed she was sweating a lot.

“So? What are you doing up here?”

“Something that I must do.”

“Mind sharing it? You seem to have run a mile.”

“In due time. You will eventually know it.”

“Oh? Is it something like my secret? Maybe you’ve contacted God here to save us?”

“That’s for you to guess.”

“Are we playing a guessing game now? Never thought of you being like that.”

“Are you picking a fight?”

“No, I just want to clarify some things here. No, let me try again. I want some clarification about everything here.”

“But why do you sound so irritated and impatient?”

“Look, Chevonne. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not irritated at you. I’m just really—super—tired of everything that’s been happening. We walked for hours, thirsty and hungry, hoping to find some locals and get off this island as soon as possible, which might be uninhabited in the first place, only to end up here, complicating our situation even more. But don’t get me wrong about that either. There’s something inside me that makes me happy I’m stranded on this island with y—I mean—the three of us,” I replied defensively without thinking properly. What was I saying now? This was the longest I had spoken to her ever since. Maybe it was the fatigue creeping into me. “But not really happy we’re stranded. It’s just that, I, um—oh, never mind. How did you come up here, anyway? Most of the passages were blocked, if not all.”

There was a long pause, which was an indication she was thinking about how to answer me after everything I said, before calmly replying, “See that hole there? I went through that using a handful of sturdy debris, piling them on top of each other until it was enough for me to reach the edges. I lifted myself all the way through.”

I felt relieved she only answered my last question. I hoped she wouldn’t mind the rest of what I said.

“Now, that’s quite creative of you. Ingenious, if I may choose my word correctly.”

“That’s an English teacher for you.”

“And that’s a Science teacher standing right in front of me. Would you attempt to explain what happened here? Or what’s happening with us? You might know the answer with that look on your face when you came rushing in here. If you ask me, though, it’s a total farce. This is just too impossible for me to believe,” I started again.

What was happening to me? I was starting to lose my cool. I knew I was tired of all this nonsense and just wanted to go home and sleep for a week, but I needed to stay calm and rational, especially in front of her.

“But we’re here, right? We can see it. We can feel that everything here is real.”

“Then, would you care to tell me the truth? There’s no need for you to hide things now,” I challenged her, risking the relationship I had started building.

“Again, all in due time. Believe me, you will know it eventually.”

I now regretted what I had said. She was on another level. The way she kept the conversation pleasant and calm made me feel more desperate, which could make me look foolish if I continued pressing her.

It was my loss.

I tried to smile but failed miserably. My pride stirred, but I couldn’t do anything about it with how nonchalantly she spoke to me and these stupid feelings I was keeping from her. I wanted to treasure them, so I just kept my mouth shut and accepted defeat.

Minutes passed before I noticed the whole area being coated with atomic tangerine and a kiss of velvet hue whooshing over the horizon—romantic enough for a confession.

Finally, there was a perfect opportunity for me to confess. I drew myself closer to her and managed an awkward but sincere smile, believing it was the best I could offer after all I had said. The smile she returned pierced my heart. It felt like pity, the same smile my friends had given me after my father scolded me for my failing grades on card-giving day.

I backed away, feeling ashamed. Of all we’d been through, why was I prioritizing my confession now? This was the wrong place and time. Maybe I should keep it to myself a little longer.

“Hey, let’s go down,” I said, swallowing the words I had meant to say. My voice regressed to the way I used to speak to her before.

We found Lucky Kid sitting on one of the few intact tables in a spacious room full of overgrown grass and piles of rubble. The moss was thick. He waved as soon as he noticed us. I asked where he had been while I was gone, and Chevonne asked why I kept calling him Lucky Kid, which I explained poorly.

“So, chers, what do you think of this building?” Lucky Kid asked, voicing the same question that had been on my mind, now more unsettling than ever.

“I still don’t know everything about this island, but one thing I’m sure of: This building is exactly what we think it is. I especially can’t forget that table you’re sitting on, Lucky Kid. How could I?” I said, tracing my fingers along the beautiful twig patterns etched into the tabletop.

“Everything here is real, Finlay,” Chevonne added, giving me a mysterious glare I must have misunderstood.

Lucky Kid hopped off the table and, with a childish smile, unsheathed the piece of wood he had picked up earlier on the third floor.

“This is part of the cabinet project I worked on back in Year 7. See? My name’s still carved on it—faint but visible. It’s amazing to see this again.”

He offered the wood to me. It was true—I could read his name on it. The three of us exchanged glances and went to the last room I had checked earlier before going to the rooftop. They both got amazed at how some things were still in good shape. I approached a table near the door, searching for something. It was still there. I picked it up, blew the dust off, and wiped away the mold inside. The spoon was missing, but I still couldn’t believe it had survived.

It was my coffee mug.

This edifice, without a doubt, was Arullina National High School.