Her world was bursting with color, the kind of pigments pressed from the brightest flowers and herbs, mixed with the purest oil and water, and stroked onto the finest, most expensive vellum. Dusty pinks and light purples streaked a baby blue sky, dotted with three fluffy, sister clouds that overlooked a sloping valley. Hiding in the thick, green grass were floral treasures — gold, pink, blue, red, purple, all the hues and combinations painted the ground. The world was like a magical theatre where fairytales and realities intertwined.

It was sixteen-by-sixteen inch perfection. Nothing compared to her universe.

Except the gray wall Raeia stared at every day.

It wasn't a plain wall. Quite the contrary, it was textured and served as a canvas of endless daydreams, a portal into a new world just outside her own. Sure, Raeia loved the nature that surrounded her. But something about that gray wall peaked her curiosity. Unlike the beige or white walls she watched for many centuries — sometimes blocked by what she called visitors — the gray wall had more serenity. She preferred the visitors that passed by it as well, the same familiar faces each day. They dressed in plain black button down shirts and trousers and bustled about carrying boxes or trays of food.

The only visitor that wore any sort of differing attire was Penny. At least, that's what Raeia called her as her hair resembled a shining copper coin. She often dressed in flowing gowns or pants, perhaps a dark mauve or jade. If she opted for tighter clothes, she wore a sharp, precisely-tailored suit. Penny rarely passed by the gray wall, but when she did, it was almost always when the light was dimming, casting shadows on the antique vase that stood at the corner of Raeia's vision.

Frustration mixed with suppressed longing prickled at Raeia every time she saw the edges of the black and white swirled pottery. It was just far enough out of sight that Raeia couldn't fully see it.

It was so close, yet unreachable. And Raeia could do nothing to reach it and take in the masterpiece in its entirety.

That was the problem. Although Raeia was awed by the beauty and color in her world, she could never fully enjoy it. She tried many times to leave the stone tower she spent her days in, but she could never find a door that would lead outside. She certainly couldn't exit by the window. The drop was taller than any tree that grew nearby, and she had no ladder to use to scale it. No matter what she tried, Raeia was trapped, a prisoner of stone.

That was why she loved the gray wall so much. It was a blank canvas and a portal, albeit a closed one, into a universe that seemed so much less confined. People came and went as they pleased. They didn't seem to be strapped to the wall, nor their feet stuck to the floor.

Raeia almost felt an odd connection to the passers-by. As mundane as it was to watch them in between frivolous chores, it was all she knew her entire existence. She was a visitor in her own way, a spectator of spectators, all day, every day.

Today began no differently. Raeia spent her morning in the tower, baking biscuits and other treats while imagining herself sharing the goodies with the visitors outside. At about noon, she peered outside her window. To her surprise, it seemed like all the visitors were hurrying by the gray wall at once. Every single one carried a vase, antique, or world encased in glass, similar to her own. Raeia dropped the tray of muffin batter on the table and raced to her window.

Activity had turned the hall into chaos. Though Raeia only heard the sound of birds chirping and water trickling over rocks, she knew by the way that the visitor's mouths frantically opened and closed that some very dire words were being said.

If only she knew what was going on.

As if this day didn't break from routine enough, Penny passed by. Her face looked so much older today, wrinkles having forged through her cheeks and forehead overnight. Normally serene, concern strained her expression today. Dark circles hung under her eyes, but a fire of determination sharpened her brown-eyed gaze. She flowed through the hall like royal purple water — at least she still wore her usual attire.

Penny stopped right in front of Raeia. All Raeia could do was stare back. Penny never looked directly at her with such an intense stare. Was there something she wanted from Raeia? If only she hadn't spoiled the muffin batter, perhaps she could have invited her to tea.

Long, painted nails, studded with tiny gemstones and pearls, pointed at Raeia. Penny's mouth moved, then she left the room.

The ground shifted.

Raeia toppled backward, thrown off balance. Pain shot through her wrists as she tried to break her fall. What was going on? Why was the ground moving and the sky spinning? Raeia tried to stand up only to be knocked off her feet again.

The world as she knew it was lopsided, literally. Raeia clawed at the stone window, but of course, it was no use. She was powerless to turn things upright. The gray wall, her day-dreaming portal, was gone.

Her tower was being ripped away, too. She'd poured her soul into keeping it tidy, and now, books and tables and chairs toppled onto the floor. Would the whole structure crumble to a pile of stone? Would she be buried under its weight?

Raeia dodged a candle, which flew out the window, then grappled for the windowsill and pulled herself upright, still trying to avoid falling objects. The carpet had shifted backward, and her knees dug into the stone floor. Still she hung onto the edge. She might not be able to save her tower, but she could prevent herself from being tossed about.

The gray wall spun away, facing Raeia with a stairwell sparkling with a gold banister and a crystal chandelier overtop. Raeia's breath escaped in a rush. So much beauty lay outside the gray wall, outside her little world, so close yet just barely out of reach. Raeia wished she could run through some portal into this new universe and explore it all, drink every last twinkle and color in it.

She was trapped, though. Her life remained chained to this tower, this world that was so rapidly shifting for the worst, and nothing could set her free...

Men in black uniforms raced up the stairs. The whole room, every visitor in black, froze. The men pointed these hand-held metal things in all directions. Raeia caught sight of Penny at the corner of the room, her arms raised above her head. Around her, the visitors seemed to be doing the same.

Suddenly, the ground was plummeting down, and air rushed around Raeia. The stairwell flashed by in a blur. A crash shattered Raeia's ears, and all went dark.

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Bright light seared Raeia's eyelids. Her eyes fluttered open to find that she was in a white room, in a white bed.

That was strange. She always had a colorful quilt covering her. Where was her quilt?

Raeia blinked several times. Little by little, her environment seemed to materialize around her. Wires, a table, several carts, a couple chairs.

It took several moments for her eyelids to flutter more rapidly. Where was her tower? There was no window, no kitchen, no sofa or murals on the walls, no gray wall to look at. A steady beeping replaced the calming water trickle that she heard each day and the birds that sang around her.

The only window in sight overlooked a gray ground, dotted with brightly colored boxes. One tree waved its branch at her as it swung in a breeze.

Raeia wasn't sure how long she lay there before a man in a blue shirt and pants entered.

"You're awake," he said.

"Where am I?"

"You're at the Brenton County Hospital."

"What's that?"

The man stared at her for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Did you not realize you were in Brenton?"

"No." Raeia's fingers twitched together under the covers, clasping once her hands found each other. "What's... what's a hospital?"

A long pause swept the room into silence, except of course for the beeping. Raeia wondered if she'd said something wrong, but didn't dare break the stillness to ask. At long last, the man inhaled a deep breath.

"I guess what they told us was true," he murmured. "A hospital is where people, uh, recover."

"What am I recovering from?" Though she asked the question, Raeia could guess why she was there. Her skin felt raw and ached like it had been scalded. She tried lifting her arm under the covers, but it hurt too much. The white bedding slid back enough for her to see white bandages wrapped around her skin.

"It seems that you have some pretty deep cuts," the man said as he moved about the room. Raeia couldn't even lift her head to see what he was doing.

"What caused them?"

"Glass." There was a weighted pause. Raeia counted ten beeps before he continued. "It seems that you fell through it."

"Fell through glass? How is that possible?"

"It's still being looked into." The man approached carrying a tray of food. Based on the furrow in his brows, Raeia suspected that he wasn't quite telling her everything. But she ate the bread and fruit provided to her and didn't say another word about it... for now.

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The sun rose and fell outside the open window three times.

Three days. Raeia had been trapped in the hospital for three days. She longed to be back in her tower, which no longer seemed like such a terrible cage to be locked away in. But every time she asked if she could leave, the nurses — that was what they were called in this world — said that her skin still needed to heal.

And so she waited in that room all by herself, watching as colorful boxes moved through the gray ground outside the window.

The door opened, and Henry, the main nurse who looked after her, stepped in. Two women in black uniform followed, the kind of uniform that she remembered in the stairwell back in Penny's manor.

"How are you feeling, Raeia?" Henry asked.

"Better today."

"That's good." Henry's feet shifted, and he glanced over his shoulder. "This is Officer Karr and Officer Hazelsmith. They would like to talk to you for a little bit."

"A-alright."

Henry shut the door behind him with a soft click. Anxiety prickled at Raeia's wounds.

The officer with short brown hair smiled at Raeia. It helped ease the worry knotting up her stomach. "Hi, Raeia. I'm Officer Karr. Officer Hazelsmith and I just want to discuss a few things with you."

Officer Hazelsmith, who had blonde hair coiled in a bun, held up a hand, smiling as well.

"There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to cut to the chase" Officer Karr began. "It appears that you are from a painting."

Raeia's eyes froze wide open. "E-excuse me?"

"Perhaps we should start from the beginning," Officer Hazelsmith said. "You see, we've been tracking an infamous art thief for over a decade. A few months ago, we got a tip that led us to investigate a woman named Jennifer Leaven. It turns out the tip was correct. Jennifer Leaven has been stealing some of the rarest, most valuable pieces of art from renowned museums all over the world."

Raeia swallowed. Her mouth felt dry, though she couldn't quite place why. This seemed like a terrible deed, to steal beloved paintings and other art. The fact that the officers were discussing this with her indicated that she was somehow wrapped up in the mess, despite Raeia not wanting any part of it.

"While some paintings Jennifer sold to maintain her mansion and extensive staff, her favorite ones were displayed in her home." Officer Hazelsmith inhaled a deep breath. "We believe that you were inside one of these paintings."

Silence overtook the room.

"In... a painting?" Raeia's jaw felt stiff as it cranked out the question.

"I know it sounds crazy," Officer Karr said. "But when Jennifer's servants dropped Miguel Sanorami's famous painting 'Woman in a Tower,' you fell through the glass protecting the frame."

Raeia's hands began to shake. She couldn't process this. What does it mean for one to be inside a painting? That would be like the murals in her tower coming to life and dancing around her room.

"We've been over this with the other officers, and this is the only conclusion we've come to."

Then again, Raeia had spent years staring at walls and visitors. Was that why she felt so trapped? Why she was always peering into other worlds, just as people were viewing hers? The gray wall made more sense now, as did the beige wall and every other blank canvas she'd stared at for centuries.

Oh, goodness! She was centuries old!

"Uh, Raeia? Raeia, are you alright?"

"I-I don't know," Raeia stammered out. Her eyes finally met the officers' kind gazes.

"We were asking if you would testify," Officer Karr said.

"About what?"

"About... Jennifer."

Jennifer.

Concern flashed through Raeia, then panic.

"Does Jennifer have copper hair?"

The officers exchanged confused glances.

"I guess her hair is kind of that color," Officer Hazelwood said slowly.

Penny. Oh, her dear Penny was really a thief. Raeia wasn't sure what to do with herself. All these years, Raeia viewed her along with the rest of the visitors as her friends. But really, it was as if Penny — Jennifer — had kidnapped her.

For a moment, Raeia felt helpless, as helpless as when her tower was teetering. It seemed like everything was once again spinning out of control, and she could do nothing to stabilize reality into something recognizable. Her life, her dreams of stepping into Penny's world, the world of a thief, were destroyed.

"You would be the perfect witness against Jennifer," Officer Hazelwood continued. "You saw her first hand every day. Your testimony would be an eyewitness account proving that she really did steal these famous works of art."

Raeia considered them for a moment. Slowly, an overwhelming current swept through her bones. It wasn't panic, fear, or helplessness. It was determination.

Her world slowed its spinning. It no longer seemed out of control. For the first time, she could finally grasp the reigns of her life and make a difference instead of watching life pass by.

"Alright," Raeia said. "I will help."