Part One: The Letter

Chapter One

In the early morning darkness of his room, Gregor woke with a start, gasping for air, one hand clutching at the scars on his chest. It took him several long minutes of panting before he was able to calm down. Out of habit, he clicked his tongue and the images in his room bounced back to him in sharper focus for a moment.

Everything was as it should be.

He found his watch in the darkness, pressing the side button to light up the face of it, he saw that it was just coming upon four-thirty in the morning. Despite it being so early, he knew there was no more chance at sleep. Not after that dream. He threw back the covers and moved around the room in darkness to find a pair of basketball shorts and a dark hoodie. Pulling the hoodie over his head he unwound the headphones from his iPod and shoved them in his ears.

He clicked his way through the house, something his mother had absolutely forbid him to do when he was twelve years old, but he didn't bother to follow her instructions on that one. Even without the clicking, he could see with the noise from his breathing. The clicking just made the images all the more sharper.

As he passed his little sister, Lizzie's, room he could see a sliver of light shining under the door and he paused, pulling one earphone out to listen. There was silence. It was as he expected, she was sleeping and not up doing homework. Sometimes it was hard to tell, she had slept with the light on for the past six years. That was how she dealt with the nightmares.

Gregor went though the kitchen and took a drink out of the faucet before he pushed open the back door and blasted the music into his ears. His mother dealt with memories by forbidding anyone to talk about it. His father used the Discovery Channel and weekly sessions with a therapist. Lizzie slept with the light on. Maggie…he wasn't sure how she dealt with the dreams, if they even came for her.

And Gregor dealt with the nightmares by running.

He wasn't running away from them. He had learned long ago there was no running away; he was only running to deal with them. Just like everything else he had done to deal with things over the past few years.

He had been almost thirteen when the family had moved to Virginia, living on his Uncle's farm. Things weren't always easy, and after a few near explosions of his temper, he had taken up wrestling at his new Jr. High in order to help him control the constant urge inside of him to fight. His coaches just thought he was a natural, they didn't know the self-restraint and the power he had to exert to keep himself from going too far. But it had helped.

And then running helped.

He liked running in darkness best; there was something about it, with the music blasting in his ears that almost distracted him from the usual nightmares.

The problem was that this nightmare wasn't the usual one. He'd had it before, maybe four or five times and it had taken weeks to get over.

This one didn't have the bodies and the blood, the heavy ashes and smoke. It didn't even have the huge white monster attacking and clawing at his chest; killing Ares.

No, this was the one dream that made him feel crazy. It was a dream of nothing. Darkness, falling and nothing; not even a bottom. Just nothing.

Gregor stepped off the train and looked around the bustling subway station. He inhaled and nearly choked on the stale humid air but he couldn't help but grin. New York City had been his home before the move.

This was his first visit back to the city and he couldn't believe how much he suddenly felt at home after so long. Gregor had graduated from high school two weeks earlier and was headed on a long weekend trip to Boston to check out apartments and jobs in the area before he started school there in the fall.

He took the stairs out of the station two at a time, and winced when the sunlight hit him, smiling at himself for being amazed at its existence, its brightness. He had once promised himself he would never take it for granted again.

He cut though a particular path in Central Park, remembering the times he had spent with his sisters, Lizzie and Boots. They had grown up in the past few years too. Lizzie went by Elizabeth full time now that she was now in high school. Despite the few things she did to cope with the memories, moving to Virginia had been the best thing for her. In New York, she had been plagued by panic attacks but now she was well on her way to an academic scholarship at any Ivy League school she wanted.

Boots was nine now and ever the 'Princess' refused to let anyone outside her family ever know the childish nickname they had given her as a baby. As a toddler, she'd had a habit of wearing the family's boots during the winter, and the name had stuck until she was nearly six. It was around that time she'd stopped referring to herself as a Princess though and asked to be called Maggie, a nick name from her name of Margaret.

As Gregor neared the exit of Central Park, he paused in the middle of the walkway, nearly getting run over by a bicyclist who cursed as he swerved to miss him. Gregor ignored him, staring at a particular slab of cement in the sidewalk. Over the years he'd wondered if anyone had ever discovered it, but it looked too blended in for anyone to have used it in the recent past or with any regularity.

He thought of the day December when he had taken Boots sledding in Central Park and she'd disappeared down the tunnel the cement slab covered. He often wondered how much of that year Boots remembered. She'd been only three when they left New York, and she still had much the same personality she'd had as a precocious 2 year old, a little wiser though.

There were times Gregor would catch her watching the bugs on the farm, colonies of ants, roaches, spiders. Whatever she could find and he wondered if she remembered, but he didn't ask. He wouldn't have asked even if his mother hadn't forbidden the subject.

He wondered, as he had a million times since the day they had left, if it had been fair of their mother to stop them from talking about it. At the same time, he understood. Did he want to talk about it? They had all been so affected that even now, the thought of the dream that had woken him early that morning made him shiver.

"Hey man, wait up! What's with you?"

Gregor's head lifted in surprise and chagrin as he remembered that his two friends had been traveling on the train with him. He had completely forgotten them when he stepped onto the platform; the memories of his past had taken over.

"Gregor!" Anna huffed as she reached him, looping her arm through his she pointed down to her high heels. "I can't run to keep up with you in these shoes!"

Knight had stopped next to Gregor as well, hosting his backpack and Anna's large duffle bag higher on his shoulder. "I mean, I know you were hesitant to let us come with you, but I didn't think you'd ditch us!"

"Sorry guys," Gregor began as he tried to resist the pull the large cement slab had on him. That was probably the reason his father had insisted on his two friends as traveling companions. "I just got caught up in old memories. My family lived just a few blocks from here, but we can take a taxi to the hotel first. You two can hang out there, and I can meet up with you in a couple hours."

Anna tugged on his arm, "You're not leaving me with Knight, you forget, neither of us has been to New York City before, you are our tour guide and we're only here one night."

"We'll just come with you and head to the hotel later. Our bags aren't that heavy." Knight offered. He knew Gregor had come to New York for one purpose and it wasn't sight seeing.

Gregor was reluctant, but he finally agreed. The two friends had been there for him over the past years. Gregor had met Knight shortly after moving to Virginia, he lived just a few miles from Gregor's family farm. Gregor guessed by the way Lizzie had started to trail after his friend that Knight lived up to his name in every female mind. He was captain of the football team at the high school and one of those guys that could have any girl with his tall dark and handsome looks.

Well, any girl but Anna.

Anna had moved in to their rather small town just two years ago, and she had what Gregor's mom called 'attitude'. Gregor had decided 'attitude' was a cross between rudeness and spunk, but a combination that created a headstrong girl who knew exactly what she wanted out of life. And for some reason, Anna wanted Gregor. Or so it appeared.

"So, tell me who we're visiting again?" Anna asked as she linked her arm through Gregor's when the neighborhoods became less desirable the closer they got to the apartment building Gregor had grown up in.

Gregor frowned, "I got a letter telling me that Mrs. Cormaci had passed away and she'd left some things for me with her son." He paused a moment to think of the eccentric, tarot card reading woman who'd become a sort of protector for his family that last year in New York City.

Once the family moved, they'd kept in contact, but it had slowly dwindled until the contact was more at Birthday's and Christmas. But Mrs. Cormaci had not only helped Gregor and his family through some hard times; Gregor was convinced that she'd saved his life on more than one occasion. Sometimes with odd jobs and money, sometimes with food, and sometimes in ways Gregor hadn't ever really figured out.

He saw that his friends were looking at him again for further explanation, "She was sort of a grandma to us when my grandma was pretty sick. We were really close to her during some hard times."

"Hard times like when you got these?" Gregor looked to the scars that Anna was tracing on his forearm.

The scares had faded over the years, but still Gregor tried to cover them when he could. His friends had seen them though; even the five long gashes over his chest that represented the closest Gregor had ever come to death.

"Yes," he answered atomically, "she was there when the car accident happened."

He didn't elaborate though, because there had been no car accident. Most people accepted it and marveled that he was still alive.

"Here we are," Gregor announced as he stopped in front of the rather depressing apartment building, absently rubbing his free hand over the raised scares on his chest, thinking more on the internal scars.

Mrs. Cormaci had been there then too, when he had fought going with his family because of constant ache of the scares he carried around. "Gregor," she'd said in her thick Brooklyn accent, "you have to move on, you have to set the example for your sisters. When you were down in that hole, you made your choice and you chose to live. Now is when you do that."

Inside the lobby Gregor smiled to see that the elevator was out of order, as usual and he lead his friends to the stairs. "It wasn't much," He said apologetically, "but was home."

"Hey man, we know that's like." Knight assured him.

Gregor knew Knight could relate to living paycheck to paycheck. His family hadn't ever had a lot of extra money either, in fact he and his mom had probably lived in an apartment similar to this one in Los Angles before his mother had escaped from Knight's abusive father when he was eleven. That was another thing they had in common. He and Knight had had to grow up a lot faster than most kids their age, it set them apart. Anna, on the other hand, came from money in the south; her whole family had been rich for generations and she looked rather nervous in the dilapidated halls of his old home.

"It's so strange to be back here," Gregor mumbled under his breath as they came out of the stairwell.

He led his friends down the hall and knocked quickly and loudly on the apartment at the end, and then stood, holding his breath, until the door opened.

"Hello," greeted a balding middle aged man, "You must be Gregor."

"I am," Gregor said, holding out his hand, "You must be Mrs. Cormaci's son."

The man shook Gregor's hand and opened the door wider to let them in, the apartment seemed so empty without the scent of something good cooking and without Mrs. Cormaci's large personality. They were obviously still going through her things but a majority of the living area was stacked with boxes.

There was an awkward moment and then Gregor began, "You're letter said you'd be here today, I hope you got mine in return?"

"I did, just yesterday, I would have e-mailed or called, but all mom had was your address in her old Christmas card address book, I'm glad you were able to come Gregor. Mom seemed so adamant that you get this at the end, you're family meant a lot to her once we were all moved out and dad was gone."

Gregor swallowed, suddenly remembering that it was because of this man's steel toed boots that he didn't have acid riddled feet. He hadn't thought of that in years. He took a deep breath, "I'm glad you contact us as well, Mrs. Cormaci meant a lot to our family; most of the time she even felt like family."

"Well," the man said, looking around a bit before he spotted a box with an envelope taped to the top and 'GREGOR' printed on the side. "I guess this is what you came for. I hope there's something in there that will keep mom's memory alive with your family." He paused and took a deep, emotional breath. "We sure miss her."

Gregor touched his chest over his heart, feeling the bump of a few scars as he did so, "I will keep her in my heart, as will my family. Thank you so much for getting this to me."

With that, he turned and ushered his silent friends out of the apartment building, his breath coming too quickly as so many memories washed over him.

When they got down to the lobby, Anna put a hand on Gregor's chest, Knight on his shoulder as both looked at him in concern.

"Gregor?" Knight asked first.

"I'm fine," he brushed off their worry, hoisting the box under his arm, he started out, but the envelope slipped off the box and onto the floor. Anna bent to pick it up and as she did, a key fell out.

She picked up the key and handed it to Gregor, "Wow, what do you think it's for?"

Gregor already knew, but Knight pulled at the neat tag Mrs. Cormaci had labeled it with, "The laundry room?" Knight asked in confusion. "She left you a key to the building's laundry room? Is that a code for something?"

Gregor laughed, hoping his unease wasn't detected, "Yeah, it's an old joke we had. Come on guys, let's get going. We need to drop our stuff off at the hotel before we go out to enjoy our day in New York City!"

Gregor lay awake late that night, his mind whirling over the possibilities and the questions that were tumbling over each other in his head. It all started with one question; why had Mrs. Cormaci left him the laundry room key?

On one level, it was obvious, but on another, it was as far from obvious as you could get. She was the one who had told him to move on. Didn't the key mean go back?

Gregor listened to Knight's deep breathing on the other bed and knew he was sleeping. Anna was in a connecting room, the door open just a small crack but he figured she'd been asleep for hours. Quietly, he leaned over the bed and found his clothes, slipping them on quietly; he grabbed his backpack and the box from by the door and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Gregor decided not to get a taxi to his old apartment building; he needed the time to think. As he jogged down the quiet sidewalks he wondered what he was doing. He hadn't realized that the temptation to jump would be so very strong when he got to New York City. Or had he realized it? Was that the reason he hadn't told his mom about this little side trip before he and his friends went on to Boston? Gregor had told his father, and he guessed his father had encouraged him to take his friends to help ease the temptation. Would jumping solve the mysteries that had plagued him? Would it stop the nightmares that hadn't ceased or even eased in their intensity in nearly six years? Or would jumping just cause much more heart ache?

The dream. Maybe that was it. That dream where nothing greeted him is what scared him the most. Because even if he didn't jump. Even if he spent the rest of his life in Virginia or Boston he needed there to be something at the bottom.

Gregor let himself into his old building and then pulled the laundry room key from his pocket to let himself in. The room was empty; the florescent lights buzzed loudly when no washers or dryers ran. Gregor paced down an aisle between machines; stopping at the one on the very end he opened the box Mrs. Cormaci had left him.

On top, he found a single sheet of paper and he paused to read it.

Gregor,

Now, I'm sorry I didn't get to give you this in person, I always thought you'd come back for it. When you were twelve years old, you were so young and you needed to go with your family. You had made the choice to live for them, and when you moved, that's what you did. I hope you eventually made the choice to live for yourself as well. I think that if you have, you will know why I gave you the key. If you don't know, I want you to think really hard.

Hope is something that not everyone has in this life. Hope is what keeps you going, but eventually, it will run out if you don't ever find out where your hopes lie.

Kiss your sisters for me Gregor. Watch out for them.

Love, Mrs. Cormaci

PS: I hope the box will help with your decision.

Gregor folded the paper, and slipped the note into his pocket as he looked in the box. On top there were three full water bottles, two flashlights, one big Maglight and a smaller pocket sized one with some spare batteries. Next he pulled out a roll of duck tape, a handful of candy bars and at the bottom, a brand new pair of shoes. The good kind, Gregor thought as he pulled the shoes out and immediately switched his well worn ones for the new black Nike's.

As he laced up the shoes Gregor knew he had made his decision. Mrs. Cormaci was right; this was the decision to live for himself finally. He swung his backpack down and shoved the old shoes in, dumping the rest of the items from the box on top, he zipped the backpack up and hoisted it onto his shoulders. As he did so, he heard a familiar clanging echoing behind the dryer and he couldn't help but smile.

He left the box on top of the dryer and pushed the machine over several inches so that the grate behind it was fully exposed. The screws had been tightened somewhat but he pulled out his new Swiss Army pocket knife-a graduation gift from his parents-and took the screws out, pulling the grate open fully. It would be a tighter fit than when he was twelve, but he knew if he could just get his shoulders through, he would be fine.

He grinned down into the darkness as faint wisps' of silver air seemed to tug him forward.

"Gregor!" The call, a simultaneous one from both Anna and Knight, came from the direction of door. "What are you doing?"

Gregor looked back at them one last time before he leaned forward and tumbled head first down the dark shaft.