Sorry you guys had to read a chapter from my brother. He’s so boring. My chapters are much better as you’ll see. They aren’t dry like his.

  Anyway… it was soon after me, Grandpa and Grandma split from Michael, Gramps and Gran. We went to Market Street to pick up some food and run some errands that kind of thing. Sounded kinda boring to me but not exactly like I had a choice.

  We walked out the small little hut of a house and started tracing our way to Market Street. Don’t worry, me and Grandma didn’t make poor Grandpa run too fast. Maybe we made him run a little. But after not too long we reached the town. It was not exactly a city by most people's ideas of what a city is, but to me it was all I knew. This to me, was a city. A collection of little villas and apartment buildings, shops and markets and all sorts of little buildings. All together it was a few thousand people, but it was normally less in spring, fall and autumn. Normally people only had summer homes here. We weren’t that, we were people who lived here all the time. I didn’t know that today would be my final summer living here. Not yet.

  The first thing we had to do was check the post office for mail because this stupid town is old fashioned and doesn't deliver mail. We have to pick it up. It was routine but it never stopped being super dull. It was some old wood building that was falling apart. I bet if I pushed really hard against the walls, the whole post office would fall down. On the top of it, there was a rickety sign that probably at some point was readable but now was just faded letters on a wood sign “New Dublin Post Office.” It said, but only Post and Dublin were still visible, Office and New had faded already and Dublin and Post probably weren't too far from that fate either. Inside it’s even more old and rickety, the ceiling sagged which wood isn’t supposed to do and there were two people handling the whole post office. Lines stretched all the way to the door and then traced around the walls, I dreaded having to wait in that line. But I didn’t have any other options and I was forced to wait at the back of the long queue. Didn’t help that whoever built this place didn’t install air conditioning. Probably because it’s old as dirt and I guess nobody ever bothered to install it in the meantime. Either because they didn’t think of it or because they hate everyone. Cause as it was, I was baking in this heat.

  It went by agonizingly slow and as I was cooked by the heat in my head I imagined all the things I could have been doing. I could have been swimming in the ocean or playing football or jogging around the paths. I

  could have been exploring the woods and even fishing with my dumb brother and my other grandparents

  seemed more interesting than just standing in this stupid line in this stupid building with this stupid dust all in my eyes. I would rather have watched paint dry, but instead here I was, snapping back to reality only enough to move a step when the line moved and otherwise completely zoned out.

  The line moved like honey, slow, slow. Like that liquid sugar thing molasses. I would look at the end of the line where the old lady running our line would double check everything and would always make the person repeat themselves probably cause she couldn’t hear them. Her limbs moved like a sloth and she got through each person one at a time taking forever with each person. After what seemed like forever we were only 5 people short of reaching the end. But the last 5 took longer then another and I could feel my eyes getting all droopy by the time we FINALLY reached the end and we were now the people at the end of the line.

  “What… do… you…. need?” The woman at the desk said absurdly slowly with drawn out pauses in between each word.

  “We would like to know if there's any mail for the Kinghorn and Quinbee household. Is there any?” Grandma said, reminding me that humans could speak quickly.

  “Let… me… check.” She wobbled away walking like she talked, not fast.

  But after what felt like forever, she waddled her way back with two letters in her hand. She handed them to us weakly and I grabbed them from her. One said, “To Miranda M Quinbee.” in fancy golden handwriting above a silky red seal and the letter was a very fancy piece of paper. The other was identical except it said “To Michael T Quinbee.” instead. I was about to open mine when Grandma snatched them from me and held them out of my reach high above my head.

  “It’s my letter! Give it back!” I said desperately reaching for my letter.

  Grandma was relentless and seemed a little out of it. She seemed to be thinking about something different than this.

  “You can have it later, dear. Maybe.” She says distantly before turning and saying some words to Grandpa.

  “C’mon! It’s my letter! Give it!” I whine jumping as high as I can but not managing to grab hold of it. Grandma is pretty tall and I am… not… tall…

  I was pretty angry but I gave it up. I wondered what was in the letter and hoped that I would find out eventually, certainly I knew at the first opportunity I would steal it. Grandma better be ready.

  But for now all we could do was leave the dusty post office, thankfully this didn’t take a million years and get to the other chores. I’m sure they were going to be just as boring.

  “So should we head home now?” Grandma asks absently her mind on a different topic then mine.

  “We need to buy dinner.” I say cocking my head in confusion, what was getting into her?

  “Oh… Oh yes… Dinner… Oh yes of course. Let’s do that now shall we?” And grandma walked away at speeds to rival me and I jogged behind her and Grandpa did his best on those boney legs of his.

  We saw the sign that led to one of my heavens, Valera St in thick white text on a green rusting sign, or. as we knew it, Market Street. Let’s go!

  Market street was a haven of knick knacks and snacks. Clothes, items, toys and everything else I could imagine all in the little shops and stands littering this street. It was the one part of New Dublin that was constantly busy whether it’s summer tourist season or the quiet abandoned wintertime. People were busy shopping and buying and walking with big bags full to the brim with stuff. So much stuff. If I could pick a favorite place, besides my room and the gym, it would be Market Street.

  But before I got to do anything fun we had to go to the grocery store. It was easily the largest store and one of the actual storefronts and not just a stand with stuff. It was a huge building with a ton of fruit, bread and

  basically all the other boring stuff. We wandered around the aisles and picked up various thingies. Grandma and Grandpa seemed a little out of it though. It’s weird. They seem like they were out of it, thinking about something other than groceries and chores and buying things for dinner.

  “Should we go Miranda?” Grandpa asked.

  “Uhh… Grandpa… don’t we need bread? And like a bunch of other stuff? We’ve only gotten like 3 things.”

  “Oh… yes… I suppose.” Grandpa responded absently.

  I had to be in charge clearly, Grandma and Grandpa were not capable of paying attention for whatever reason. Probably they’re just old. Still weird though. Whatever. I grabbed the shopping list and dragged them around picking up the stuff on it and maybe one or two… bonus items… like chocolate milk…. maybe. Who can say? I promise I picked up everything on the list. But if Grandma and Grandpa really didn’t want to let me add some other things then they should have said something. Not my fault they won’t.

  By the end we had spent probably an hour wandering around, Grandma and Grandpa talked and talked and talked about… I don’t know. I couldn’t hear. But it was intense whatever they were talking about. Everytime I tried to eavesdrop they would shut up so I have no theories. Possibly something to do with the letter. God… for once I wish I had Michael. He would have connected the dots and known precisely what was going on. Left on my own I couldn’t figure it out.

  We exited the building and I was very very very bored. And very hungry. Both these things led me to get very excited when I smelled something delicious. It was my favorite smell in the whole world. Creamed… Rice… Pudding!!!!!!!!!!

  “Grandpa! Grandma! Can we get the pudding? Please? Please? Please?”

  Grandma stared at me for a second, seemingly trying to process what I was saying.

  “Oh yes dear. Here.” She handed me a few dollars and turned back to Grandpa and continued to t

  about who knows what.

  “Thank you!” I grinned wide, and would have hugged him with thanks but I might break him. Instead I

  pranced over to the bakery shop called “Ol Barry’s Bakery” written on a stone sign in old fashioned letters on an old sign that was carefully maintained. If I had a favorite shop in my favorite market street, it would be “Ol Barry’s Bakery.” And it would not be close.

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  I walked into the quiet, humble little shop. Despite being so small, there were a million items filling up the glass stands up to the brim with cakes, cookies, delicacies and of course the main attraction, the creamed rice pudding. It was much better maintained then the post office and unlike the post office had both air conditioning and was quiet enough that you could get what you wanted without having to deal with super duper long lines. And at the counter was a man who could be described by people as handsome with a chiseled jaw and slick black hair who was probably a highschooler or something

  “Hello. Can I please have Creamed Rice Pudding?” I say licking my lips and bouncing with excitement.

  “Sure! Large or small?” The man says getting a bag ready.

  “Large.” I said without thinking.

  He places it in the bag and I pay for it.

  “Here you go Miss.” He handed me a few dollars in change, it wasn’t much, but it was at least enough for a bit more things to buy. Sure… I could go give it to Grandma and Grandpa, but they're old and probably rich anyway. It’s fine.

  I ran away with my creamed rice pudding in hand and every part of me wanted to eat it whole, but against my own nature, I kept myself at bay. So I ate it in clumps instead!

  But even that didn’t last. After precisely two seconds or so I was crouched in the corner and stuffing my face with the pudding taking huge bites and grabbing huge clumps with my hands. It smeared my face and entered my belly. It left me still quite hungry and messy.

  For a minute I dotted around market street and tried to pick where to spend my remaining money, ultimately it came between three choices cause everywhere else would probably be too expensive. After a long time I came across a shop or more like a stand with a tall lanky man in black clothes. His eyes were an orangey red and his eyes looked ancient while his body didn’t look a day over forty. I hadn’t seen this stand the last time I came, I wondered what he was selling, I came closer to the stand and I saw a shelf full of rice pudding boxes. This place was a rice pudding stand! Am I dreaming? This stand seemed built for me. I pranced over to him and got ready to order some more rice pudding. Couldn’t hurt.

  “Excuse me sir. Can I have some pudding?” I hated having to appeal to people like this, but being charming to adults usually led to more good than bad.

  “As many as you want Miranda. Name a number.” He said in a silky almost melodic voice.

  I was tempted, I was so hungry. So hungry… I was starving, oh… I could eat a horse. Or two. Maybe even three.

  “5. I want 5. If this is enough for five. If that’s ok sir.” I slid the money on the counter. It really wasn’t much but I couldn’t tell how expensive the pudding was and I figured if I shot high I could talk him into selling me the more then my money would give me.

  “Of course Miranda. Here you go.” He had very long fingers and they cling to a pudding which he slid over to me. Then he slid a second and a third, then a fourth and finally a fifth. All stacked on this little table in a tower stack.

  “Thank you. Sir.” I noticed he wasn’t taking my money.

  “I don’t need your money Miranda. It’s in the house.” He said.

  It was then I noticed I hadn't told him my name yet.

  “Hey… how do you know my name?”

  “I know a lot about Miranda. Will you be sharing the pudding with your brother?”

  “You know about my brother? Who are you?” My eyes were wide and my breathing was rapid and heavy. I ignored the stack of rice pudding, a sentence I never thought would come but it’s true, and I backed

  Away.

  “Miranda… aren’t you going to take your rice pudding?”

  I shake my head and start to turn around. I hear the merchant sigh and once I turn around I see two other men leering and with those same orangey red eyes.

  “It’s just the girl. The boy is somewhere else.” The merchant says in a more straightforward tone less singsony. He wasn’t pretending anymore. “Take her hostage. Even those grandparents won't dare do a thing if we have her in our hands.”

  He makes a gesture and one of the men grabs my shoulders and the other stuffs a shirt in my mouth. I squirmed but they were stronger. That didn’t stop me from trying.

  They took me trying to kick and trying to scream over to the bushes. Dragging me by my shoulder blades into the bush. I manage to land a few blows in the fight but they still manage to get me to the bush. Beneath us, the earth seems to open up and they chuck me into a pit. Realizing I was without arms on me for the first time I ripped out the shirt and tried to scream for help but before I could the roof above me closed once more and the sound just hit the rock.

  They jumped down and using some rope bound my hands and legs up but since I was more or less mute with the rock, they didn’t bother putting a gag in this time. They tied me to a chair.

  “Let me go!” I tried to pull against the rope. They were super strong. “I… I… I’ll call the police! Let me go! Let me go!” Water was collecting in my eyes. Some may say I was… I was crying. Was this the end? Alone in this… pit. I wanted to do actual fun stuff on my summer vacation. Not rot away with some creepy guys holding me hostage.

  “The police won’t find you here. And even if they do. Police are mortals and mortals are nothing to us.” The fake merchant said.

  I bit my lip and moved my hands more fiercely, shaking my chair. The rope was strong but the binding was definitely weakening. If I fought hard enough, it would have to break at some point. While I was struggling I noticed one of the people was scribbling something on a piece of paper, the paper reminded me of the letter we got in the post office, fancy paper. Elaborate. Almost golden and yet clearly white. I’m bad at explaining things but the paper was fancy.

  “I wrote a letter to her Grandma, told her that we have Miranda and she better bring us Michael.” The man said, he was kinda short and fat, relatively speaking, they were all tall and spindly compared to most people I knew.

  “You didn’t tell her where we were, did you?” The merchant guy said.

  “I’m not that stupid. I told her the drop off point.”

  These people were plotting to bring Michael in here too! Nobody but me gets to do anything to him. He’s my brother.

  “STOP! LET ME OUT!” I screamed and shook the chair but nothing happened and I still hadn’t gotten out of the rope, this time… they ignored me.

  Just then the earthy roof opened up and two shadowy figures dropped down and I could hear heavy breathing. Almost anger. Who were these people and why were they seething like that.

  “Let her go.” They stepped into the glim light that was revealed by them opening up the ceiling. It was Grandma and Grandpa.

  “How did you find her?” The merchant guy said.

  Grandma breathed heavily.

  “Did you think the former Duchess of Einia wouldn’t know how to sense movements on the earth? I got your message and I put the pieces together. I’ve dealt with smarter people than you. And I’ll let you guess how it turned out for them. Leave my granddaughter alone and never. Come. back.” With each word she pressed her finger against the merchant man. Even though she was comparably a feeble man, he seemed to twist his face in reaction, was it… fear?

  “You’ll… have… to… fight. We… w…won’t let her go otherwise. O…Or…Orders.”

  She rolled her eyes and a rock seemed to enter her hand and she whacked the merchant upside the head with it. I let out a whistle of impressment, despite the situation I was in, I couldn’t deny the technique of the slap was impressive and admirable.

  Grandpa then came from behind and while he too was feeble and old… he seemed stronger as his eyes narrowed in rage. The walls seemed to bend to his breathing, pieces of rock falling from the roof with every breath and every pebble hitting one of the guys no matter where they moved to avoid them. Whenever one seemed about to hit me, it seemed to almost… move around me. And then as Grandma slapped the guy with the rock starting a fight, Grandpa went over to me and freed me with a sharp stone that again seemed to just come into his hand and almost seemed to sharpen as he held it. When one of the guys tried to stop him, Grandma

  dealt with that with a wave of the hand. Conveniently, a rock seemed to hit him from somewhere. Wait… did the hand waves cause the rock to move? Was she and was he… moving the rocks? What was going on?

  As I thought about this, Grandpa slashed my rope and at last… I was free. I stretched my limbs and cracked my knuckles. I ran into the fray

  As I entered the battle, the merchant guy and one of the other guys were heaps on the floor and the last one who was the relatively short and relatively fat guy was a shriveled mess not far off from joining them.

  “Miranda got back.” She turned to me before turning back. I ignored this request however and I moved even closer getting eye to eye with him bending in close.

  “You look so…” I slapped him. “Pathetic!” I punched him and attacked him, he didn’t offer much pushback and eventually was groaning in pain along with everyone else.

  “Not bad. You remind me of your Grandma.” Grandpa tried to calm me down with some compliments.

  “Shut up. What’s going on! And take me out of this pit!”

  Grandpa sighed and beneath us, the floor began to rise and the ceiling opened up and the pit disappeared and we were all returned to the bush just outside market street on the actual ground.

  I noticed the three guys stumbling away, good riddance. And yet my joy at the sight wasn’t enough to overcome my confusion. I was in the dark.

  “It’s time.” Grandpa said to Grandma and she slowly nodded.

  “We’ll tell you Miranda, we’ll tell you who you and Michaell. Come on. We’ll explain everything. But let’s explain with Michael ok?”

  We walked back to the house. It was night now. And I knew, somewhere deep within, I wouldn’t wake up the same girl.