Ash checked the flowers in their hand. They already seemed to be drooping, even though it hadn’t been that long since they got them. The hospital waiting room was busy, but quiet. Ash’s attention drifted sometimes to the TV hung on the wall. The news showed a masked yellow figure, flying between buildings, although the picture was really blurry. The news reporter said she wasn’t sure whether it was because the photographer took a bad picture, or if the figure was moving so fast. Ash knew it was the latter.

“You are going to go visit Grandma Grace.” Ash’s mom sounded stern over the phone. “Right now?” Ash responded. “Yes, right now! Drop whatever you’re doing and go see her!” Ash’s mom was always getting after them about not making time for family. They had missed Christmas three years in a row, and hadn’t really been to any other family gatherings longer than that. Ash didn’t like missing out, but they were … busy. “I don’t think I can make time right now, mom.” “No.” “What?” “I said no. You will make time right now.” “Mom I’m serious-“ “And I’m serious too!” Ash’s mom sounded like she was yelling, but more than that she sounded like she was crying. “Mom? Mom what’s wrong? What happened?” “What happened,” Ash heard their mom choke back tears. “You would know what happened if you made time!” There was silence. Ash felt guilty, and didn’t have anything to say. “It’s not my place to say, so just make time and go visit your grandma today. Please.” Ash didn’t say anything for a bit. They looked around, watching the people bustling around, scanning their faces. Nothing caught Ash’s eye. “Okay.” Ash responded. “I’ll head over to her place now.” “Ash, she’s not at her house.” “Where is she then?”

“This is her room.” Ash was led up a few floors and down a hallway to a spacious hospital room. The room felt too big, like the furniture was spaced too close together, leaving a large space between the door and the hospital bed, where grandma Grace was laying. “Hi grandma. It’s Ash. I came to see you.” Ash moved around to Grace’s bedside, as the receptionist closed the door behind them. “I brought you some flowers!” Grace turned her head to look at Ash. Her wrinkled face seemed to narrow slightly as she tried to recognize Ash’s face. “Oh, hello Ash. It’s good to see you.” “It’s good to see you too.” “It’s been a while. How are you?” “I’ve been doing alright, grandma. How about you?” “Oh … You know.” Ash looked down at Grace, their grandma. Lying in this bed, looking so … alien. They never imagine they’d see their grandma like this. “Mom said you were here, but she didn’t tell me why.” Grace paused, and then said: “Well, I’m just old. These things just happen when you’re old.” Ash knew she was just trying to be polite, and there must be so much more happening to her, but Grace just smiled. “I’m … I’m so sorry grandma.” “Oh no dear. What are you sorry for?” “I just-“ Ash’s chest tightened. “I should’ve seen you more.” “You are seeing me now. I’m still here.” Ash could feel the tears welling up, when Grace reached her hand slowly to Ash. “Did you bring me those flowers?” She pointed to the bouquet. “Could you show them to me?” Ash wiped their face, and held the flowers up so Grace could see them without moving around too much. “Thank you Ash. This is a wonderful gift. I don’t get to see many flowers in here, so thank you for this.” Ash took the flowers back, and rested them on the bedside table. “So, what have you been doing since I last saw you, Ash?” Ash felt apprehensive. This was a common question that Ash always had to lie about. “Well, I work at-“ Ash stopped. They looked into Grace’s eyes. Those warm, and yet emotionless eyes. Eyes that had lived through an entire lifetime of joy and sadness, and Ash could feel that they were almost about to see for the last time. “Actually, grandma, I won’t lie: I’m a superhero. I’m the one on TV. I’ve been helping people, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Grace looked into Ash’s eyes, and thought silently to herself, before speaking: “I understand. You’re secret is safe with me.” Grace smiled and closed her eyes while Ash cried.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Jess stared inside the glowing cavern, mouth agape. Martin stared at her and the mysterious subtle glow bouncing off of her dirty face. Martin thought about how quickly she got dirty even though they hadn’t been on the island all that long. After a second, Jess gestured in a snappy, almost over exaggerated way towards the inside of the cavern. “Lava! There’s lava!” The look in her eyes were wide and angry. Martin knew this look, and knew Jess was on her last legs before she’d blow up into a fit of rage. He awkwardly spoke, not wanting to set Jess off in some way, “What do you mean there’s lava?” “Look! There’s lava in there, or magma, or whatever it is!” Jess pointed and Martin came around to look. Sure enough, bright and orange with spots of dark brown, there was a steady flow of molten rock pooling into a sizable lake in an underground cavern. Martin could feel the heat enveloping his face, like when you’re sitting close to a campfire. “Ok. Yeah. That’s lava, I think. What’s the problem? It’s not like we’re gonna go in there,” said Martin. “The problem? The problem!” Martin immediately regretted questioning Jess. She always got riled up easy, and it always took an annoying amount of time to get her to calm down. “The problem, Marty, is that we’re stuck on an abandoned island! We have hardly any food from the wreck, our parents are probably losing it back home, and now there’s an active volcano that’s gonna kill us before we get a chance to leave!” Jess was yelling in Martin’s face, her voice echoing inside the hot cave behind him. Something tickled the back of Martin’s mind: an image of something moving … or pushing? He felt a tension, like a knot in his chest, and it terrified him. Somehow he knew he had to get Jess to calm down, or something bad would happen. “W-we’re not gonna die,” spoke Martin, the words catching in his throat as he tried to speak softly. “This … this volcano probably isn’t active, I think.” Jess eyed Martin with a cold calculation, deciding whether Martin was bullshitting or not. “How do you know it won’t blow up,” snapped Jess. “Uhh, I mean I don’t know for sure,” Martin answered instinctively with the truth. Jess’ shoulders tensed and Martin quickly noticed he needed to recover. “B-b-but I mean like it could be random, but there’s also that cave!” “What about the cave?” Jess was annoyed. “Well, if we can see the lava inside, then we would probably be able to tell if it was about to blow up? I mean, wouldn’t the level be, I don’t know, higher?” There was a silence. Martin was just grasping at straws, but his words seemed to click a different idea into Jess’ mind. “I guess we can see the lava, and it didn’t look like it was rising …” As Jess spoke, Martin waited. Martin felt like he was diffusing the world largest bomb, although he didn’t fully know why. “Let’s keep a close eye on it, just so I know when the volcano is gonna make a move and try and kill us!” Jess threw her hands in the air, turned, and started moving back to the beach, where the wreckage was. Martin breathed a sigh of relief, and began to walk after her. The two lost siblings walked down the mountainside away from the lava filled cave. Martin was trying to move quickly down the steep rocky surface, when he suddenly felt his leg give way. A loose rock jostled underneath his weight, and his body fell into a painful roll down the mountain. Jess barely had a chance to breathe before Martin had tumbled into her, bringing her into the bludgeoning roll as well. Jess felt the pain and anger well up in her. Every hit made the yell welling up inside stronger and stronger. She could feel nothing other than a single hateful wish, tearing out of her throat with a shout: “I WISH THIS STUPID ISLAND WOULD DISAPPEAR!!!” The volcano rumbled, as if to oblige, and with a supernatural quickness the deserted island was engulfed in a sea of fire, death, and rage. Neither the siblings nor the island were ever seen again.

I don’t know what happened to my brother, but I wish I did. I wish I could tell you exactly where he was, and I wish I could tell you what happened, but I can’t. It’s hard to believe he’s just gone. No notes. No evidence. Not even a single sign of a struggle, or anything that would make this seem even … I don’t know, premeditated? It’s strange. I know it’d be worse if Ethan was violently murdered, and you could like see his blood and know that someone had actually been there; like something had actually happened to him, but nothing happened. He’s just gone. I was at work when I got the first text from my parents. I work morning shifts at a figuring painting facility. It’s messy work sometimes, but mostly it’s just kind boring repetitive busy work. While on my lunch break, I saw my parents texted me:

“have you heard from Ethan recently?”

I remember being surprised at first. Not worried, just surprised that they texted me. I don’t talk to my family often, so usually when I do it’s through these random texts they send me. I respond:

“no”

“Last I talked to him was maybe a month ago I think”

“Did something happen?”

I was getting nervous at this point. My brother would get into his fair share of trouble, especially since he was in between jobs at the time. Nothing illegal, at least not murder or drugs or anything like that. I know he and his friends liked to go into abandon properties on occasion; a remnant from his teenage years he still clung to. After a while my phone buzzed again:

“We don’t know.”

“He’s not here.”

“We thought you might know something.”

I looked through old texts, opened other social media apps, even checked my email looking for any sign that he might’ve sent me a message I missed. Nothing. I tried texting him directly, even though my parents probably already did the same. I told my parents that he might just be out somewhere and his phone might be dead. Maybe he’d show up later that night, or maybe he’d use another phone to call them. I sent those messages and then went back to work. There was nothing I could do at my job to help this, and even if I was nervous I figured Ethan would be fine, wherever he was. You don’t realize it until after something horrible happens, but we put a lot of faith in each other. My partner will leave the house to go to work, and I believe nothing bad will happen to them, even though there’s always a chance. Maybe someone rams into them on the road, smashing the life from their body through metallic shrapnel and blood. Maybe someone comes into their work with a firearm and shoots them for no reason, ending their life with an easy click of disgusting indifference. People can come and go like popping bubbles on bubble wrap, and sometimes just as easily. We don’t think about how truly dangerous and spontaneous life can be until it happens close enough to remind us, and by that point it’s usually too late to do anything about it. Ethan didn’t come home that night. My parents tried to call me the next day but I was at work early again. I called them when I was at home hours later. We talked about what they might do, like calling police or putting out missing persons notices. I helped my parents make missing posters to put up around town. Seeing my brother’s face on those papers felt wrong, like we were going overboard, worrying about it too much and he was just going to show up somewhere acting like the whole thing was some kind of accidental mishap or something. Days turned into weeks. It’s been months now and I still don’t know where Ethan is. It’s finally setting in that he might be gone for good. I wish I knew what happened. I wish there was someone I could point to and say “it’s their fault he’s gone.” I can’t say that. I can’t do anything. Ethan is gone and all I can do is make wishes that will never come true. I don’t leave the house very much anymore. I have to calm myself down every time my partner leaves for work. I can’t stop thinking that it’ll be the last time I ever see them.

Bruce readjusted himself in his office chair. He took a look at this schedule, checked the clock, and sat back in a more comfortable position. He was gonna fire somebody today. Well, lay off was probably a better term, but it wouldn’t make a difference to the employee. It wasn’t something that he dreaded or desired, he was actually pretty neutral about the whole thing. It was just another part of his job. There was a knock on the door, before a young man came through. “I was told you wanted to see me for something?“ said the young man. “Yes, Mike, why don’t you take a seat,” said Bruce. Mike took a chair closest to the door. He seemed nervous and tried to be quiet with his entrance. Bruce didn’t find this odd; lots of his younger employees tended to be a bit nervous around him. Bruce felt bad, but knew there was nothing he could do about it. Bruce tried to find the perfect words, something that would be to the point but not too harsh. Mike spoke up after a silence, “did I do something wrong?” Bruce jumped to the opportunity. “Well, I guess not really, although some of your actions may have helped with the decision.” “What decision?” “Well, Mike, you’re fired.” Mike was silent. Bruce figured that was probably a good sign. “To be more accurate, you’re being laid off, but trust me when I say it wasn’t an easy decision. You can go grab your things and -“ “Fucking sweet!” Mike interrupted. Bruce was caught off guard. “I beg your pardon?” “You don’t own me anymore, old man! Eat my farts!” “I’m sorry, what?” Bruce was confused. Mike was usually a very nervous person, but this behavior was nothing like the Mike he knew. “I’m free to do whatever I want, you big fart! I’m free from this stupid job!” Mike was visibly ecstatic and his whole body language had changed from feeble to energized. “Well, it seems you’re taking this pretty well, albeit with a bit of disagreeable attitude, but sure, you’re free to go get your things and leave.” Bruce tried to lead Mike into leaving, but Mike only glared back at him. “Don’t tell me what I’m free to do. You don’t control me! I’m a free man again! I don’t have to listen to you or report to you. If I wanted to I’d shit on your desk right now, fart-man!” “That’s very exciting for you, ‘freedom’ and all. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to get back to. Goodbye Mike.” Bruce motioned for the door, but Mike didn’t move. He just kept staring down Bruce, like a wild animal. Mike smiled slowly, before he stood quickly and began beating his arms against his chest like a gorilla. “Aaaah aaah ooh aaah aaaah ooh!” Mike pounded his chest and hopped on Bruce’s desk. Bruce had no idea when Mike was planning on leaving his office.

Thomas kept looking down at the old paper map, and looking back up at the horizon, and then back down at the map. The map showed a small town, with roads weaving between blocks of buildings, some of which he knew. He remembered the old coffee shop where his sister worked, the small building he learned how to drive in, and the school with the large field he played baseball in. It was a map of Thomas old hometown he grew up. When Thomas looked up from the map, all he could see was stone. The horizon stretched out like infinity, and there weren’t even any mountains to strain a focus for. As far as the eye could see was all just a flat stone surface, stretching into the distance. “... This doesn’t make sense,” thought Thomas. “My house is supposed to be right here.” Thomas looked up and shielded his eyes from the hot summer sun. He wanted to get a sense for its position, and after checking his watches and navigational guides it only confirmed what he already knew: he was in the right spot. This was home. Thomas tried to use his map and compass to simulate his usual routes around town. There were no landmarks, but maybe if he looked around he might find something to make this trip worthwhile. It cost a lot of money just to travel here, so any souvenir, even from something he couldn’t recognize or have any emotional attachment to might make it all worthwhile. “This is where that small parking lot used to be, and over there is where the Tai-food restaurant was ... or was the parking lot down that way? No. No, I’m pretty sure this is where it was, I think.” Thomas decided he would go to where his old school used to be. It was a route he felt very familiar with since he had walked it almost every day for many years of school. He walked down the street (or where a street used to be), walked straight to the old train station (or where he think used to be a train station), down an underpass (which didn’t exist anymore) and then up another street to get to where he went to school. The trip normally takes twenty to thirty minutes, but Thomas took almost two whole hours trying to get the right landmarks, turns, and distances so that he’d be right where his old school used to be, but nothing was there. Nothing was anywhere. He made more trips, further and further. The movie theatre he had his first kiss in: gone. The graveyard his dad cried over a lost friend in: gone. He even tried to find the large sugar beet factory, the largest landmark in his hometown, but that was gone too. It was all replaced by flat stone lit by a burning hot sun. If it weren’t so bright, Thomas could’ve sworn that this was hell, his own personal hell.