a wrinkle in time: we do not know what things look like. We know what things are like.

KEIRA BROOKS SAT ON THE FLOOR of her brother's room, surrounded by twenty or so books that had lost their ability to distract her. No matter how many stories she read, the comfort of reading was fading, just like everything else around her. Outside, Veridonia was so quiet that she almost missed the sounds and the screams. Nebulysis—the official name for the Disease—had taken a lot from them, but it wasn't the Disease that kept Keira awake at night. It was the feeling that her brother was slipping away, and that she could do nothing to stop it.

Miles, her brother, was acting stranger and stranger, and Keira could feel the distance growing between them. They used to be inseparable, and now, he spent hours and hours painting. Lost in his own little world.

Keira was lost in her own world, until Miles strode in, grabbed the book she was reading and threw it onto the desk beside him.

"I was reading that, Miles!" she screeched.

She loved her brother, she really did, but recently, his aggression towards her was scaring her. She understood that the Death hurt them all, but their parents said they had to be more 'united' and Miles was definitely not following that rule.

"There are more important things than reading stupid fiction, Kee." Miles' voice was strangely robotic, and even the way he said her nickname brought a sour taste to her mouth. She pushed her bright-red glasses up her nose and hissed. Her brother was getting on her nerves lately. Ever since the Death when hundreds of children died on the streets, Miles was acting more and more unusual.

Miles was an artist by nature, and a market seller by profession. She understood that his grades weren't going to get him into a science or engineering program, but unlike her parents, he wasn't particularly fond of his paint splashing. He called it abstract art, but to Keira it was a whole bunch of nonsense.

It became even worse over the past ten days, and as much as Keira tried not to, her mind inevitably went back to the moment of the Death, when everything changed for the worse. Her family were so lucky that they were indoors when it happened. Her mom and dad had held her tight as they watched small bodies bleed out onto the concrete outside. Her last minute decision to ditch school turned out to be a blessing. Miles had been with his friends, supposedly doing some group project. When he came home safe and sound, her mom and dad were so relieved that they nearly strangled him with hugs.

But that was before everything started to change.

Miles had been perfectly fine that day, and now, he was acting as though Keira barely existed, and spewed out philosophical statements about his paintings.

Keira watched as her brother paused, the brush hovering above the canvas. He turned to look at her, his stare steely.

"Kee, everything is falling apart. That's why I paint."

His voice was still unnaturally robotic, and Keira couldn't make sense of his words at all. Was she supposed to? Miles was usually so articulate, but now everything coming out of his mouth felt like a small part of a bigger idea she couldn't understand.

He turned back to his canvas and began painting in long, sweeping strokes. Keira watched as a dark, morbid scene took shape—Black and white swirls showing broken buildings and skeletal trees. This was also strange. Miles loved using colors, and mixing them to get new ones. He once told her that color brought his paintings to life. This painting was alive, too. But it was just...not Miles. The painted sky was just a void of blackness, and scattered throughout were ghostly white figures, their faces contorted in silent screams.

Keira hated that image, how realistic it felt even in all its exaggerated glory. "Miles, what the hell is that?" she asked, as if belittling it would make it less frightening.

Her brother didn't lift the paintbrush off the canvas, and instead continued splashing white and shades of cream across the painting. "It's our world, Kee. Don't you see it?"

"Uh, right. Of course. I see some skeletons, or ghosts, or whatever. Veridonia is actually full of color though. Where's the color, Miles? Aren't you going to use the... fifty different shades of green that you normally use?"

Keira loved a good joke about how annoying his obsession with color was, and Miles usually laughed at it too, but he didn't react this time. He just continued mixing white with another darker shade of...what was almost white. At least, that was familiar Miles behavior.

But it still felt... wrong. Even if Keira was only ten, she could see the changes in him. His normal dark tan skin was now paler, his chocolate brown eyes reddened. It felt like he was losing his color, just like his paintings.

A pendant that gleamed a vicious gold around his neck caught her attention, and she found herself leaning closed to get a better look. It seemed to be a picture of a woman sitting on a flower. She was holding a large instrument of some sort that looked like a guitar, and wore a lot of necklaces.

She giggled—Miles was wearing a necklace with a woman wearing a necklace. But, something else intrigued her. She'd seen the picture on it somewhere before. Her tiny fingers spread out to touch the necklace, and she leant even further. Her brother was tall, so reaching him was difficult. Just a little more...

Her body betrayed her, and Keira was never one bit athletic.. She toppled to the floor with a thud, knocking her head against the leg of the soda.

"Owie," she whined, reaching for her glasses which had flown across the floor with the impact and she saw the sharp edge of the life-size lamp gleam at her. She'd have easily broken her neck if she had fallen an inch further.

She looked up at her brother. He had no reaction. In fact , he was painting like he hadn't heard a thing.

that the lack of attention truly unsettled Keira.. Without warning , she started wailing. Tears streamed down her face as she stayed on the floor, clutching her foot. She could've gotten up, but she didn't want to.

It wasn't a pretty sight at all, and Keira knew that. But Miles needed to learn that ignoring her wasn't going to get him anywhere. She didn't even realize that she was in pain until she noticed the small cut on her pinkie. The sight of it made her sob even harder, and the sound was probably enough to wake the dead.

It took two whole minutes for her mom and dad to come rushing, and her mom knelt down beside her, her eyes wide as she lifted Keira off the floor and seated her on the sofa.

"It's okay, sweetie, it's alright," her mother cooed, as Keira wailed louder. "What happened?"

Keira pointed at her pinkie and managed to stammer through her tears, "I-I fell, and it hurts!"

Her dad inspected her finger with a practiced calm. He was a doctor, after all, and he would always know what to do. He looked at her mother shortly after. "It's just a small cut. I'll get the first aid kit."

As her dad left the room, her mom gently wiped away Keira's tears. "You'll be okay, Kee. Let's get you cleaned up."

Keira sniffled, and pointed at Miles. "Why is Miles acting weird?"

Her mom blinked, and turned her gaze to Miles who was aggressively splashing paint onto the canvas now, and layered the painting with yet another cream color.

"Miles?" their mom called. "Miles? You could've helped your sister instead of just painting, you know."

Miles didn't answer, and Keira watched as her mom's face scrunched up. She gently stroked Keira's hair, but her eyes remained fixed on Miles.

"Miles!" her mom called again, louder this time. "Did you hear me?"

Miles finally paused, his brush hovering in mid-air. Slowly, he turned to face them, his eyes staring at the pink wallpaper. "Mother."

"Your sister fell and hurt herself," their mom said. "You should've helped her."

Miles blinked, twice, no, three times. He glanced at Keira, and then back at his painting. "I'm sorry, Kee," he mumbled, but he didn't sound like he was sorry at all.

He turned back to his canvas. It was almost like he was in a mindless trance, and everything about it scared Keira.

Keira's dad returned with the first aid kit and knelt beside her, carefully bandaging her pinkie. "There you go, all better now," he said, with a reassuring smile.

Keira nodded, sniffling a little, but her eyes remained fixed on her brother. "Mom, Miles is acting weird. He's wearing some necklace." she said, and bit her tongue. What if Miles was mad at her, for ratting on him? But, her desire to see him getting in trouble for ignoring her was stronger.

Her mother sighed, "The Death has been difficult for everyone, Kee. What necklace are you—"

Keira pointed at Miles' neck.

Her parents looked at each other, almost like they knew something that Keira didn't, and approached Miles. Keira blinked as she watched her mom hold the necklace around her brother's neck, and Miles didn't even flinch..

Her mom then did the unthinkable. Her fingers circled the pendant and, she removed it off of him.

Miles turned around excruciatingly slowly, and his eyes, once dull and lifeless, suddenly flared with red rage. "Mother, that's mine," he said. If he screamed at them, it would have been more appropriate, and less frightening, but this tone...it was bone chilling.

Keira shrunk further back into the sofa.

She watched as her brother lunged at their mother, startling all of them. Tears filled Keira's eyes, and she clutched Dad's hand tighter and tighter until her bandaged finger hurt.

"Miles, stop!" their dad shouted, letting go of Keira's hand and stepping between his son and their mother.

He grabbed Miles by the shoulders, trying to pull him back. Their mother didn't react to the attack, her attention focused on the gleaming pendant of the woman. Miles seemed to stall for a moment as their mother examined the pendant. She gasped, bringing everyone's attention to her.

"Miles...Miles...We're not allowed to have this," she said quietly. "This is a...deity of some sort.. If they find this in our house, the Verids will arrest us."

"Give it back, Mother!" Miles fought his father's hold with a strength that was unlike him. Their dad exchanged a worried look with their mother, and she clutched the necklace tight in her fist. Her mother was suddenly acting strange too now, and here was another person the Disease had taken from her.

"I don't remember her name," she continued, "but my mother used to say her grandmother prayed to this goddess. I don't know how Miles got it, but the whole family is in danger if they find out."

They? Keira scratched her head. The Verids? She knew they were big men with scary shields, and her parents always said it was dangerous to be near them.

The room seemed to grow even colder as Miles went back to painting as if he hadn't just attacked and screamed at his mother. Keira couldn't tear her eyes away from the canvas. Mile's art had always seemed crazy to her. It was why she hated it. But today, it was worse than ever.

Suddenly, a loud, jarring ring echoed outside. It sounded like a bell of some short, harsh and grating. It snapped everyone out of the trance. Miles froze, his brush still in mid-air. Her parents watched in confusion as he set the brush down wordlessly and marched out of the room, his movements stiff and mechanical, like a robot following a command.

Keira followed him with her eyes. "Miles, where are you going?" she called after him, but he didn't respond.

Her parents rushed to him and tried to stop him from leaving., Their arms pulled at Miles' body, but it didn't work. Her brother who had always been thin and weak, was now able to escape both his parents.

"Miles, do not go outside."

Keira heard her dad's voice echo throughout the house. The ringing had subsided, replaced by a shrill hum. She had never heard such panic in her dad's voice.

She trotted to where her parents had stopped in the doorway, watching Miles leaving the house even though he wasn't supposed to. She clutched her mother's leg as she tried to prevent Miles from leaving, and a second later, her mom brushed her hand off her leg and went outside with her dad.

Keira was stuck inside.

She remembered what the news people said. Her mom and dad would not be killed by the Death outside. But Miles would be. Keira would be. She pressed her face to the window, her nose squashed on the glass, trying to get a better view of what was happening outside. Her glasses weren't making it any easier.

Miles joined a group of people striding by their house who seemed to be moving and talking like him. It was hard to hear anything from inside, but their shouting made it quite easy for her to understand them. They were chanting, and she could hear it even through the thick walls and glass.

"When our new world was born, the old world was lost. Our world was born, and then, it was lost."

The chants were painful to hear, the march painful to watch. Everyone's eyes were bulging red, and Miles... He was seventeen. He was not allowed outside. The Council said there would be severe consequences for anyone who...

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Keira covered her ears with her small hands. "Mommy? Mom... Dad?"

The noise was enough to bring her to tears, and Keira let them flow as the teenagers who looked like Miles, but didn't, were dragged away by the Verids. Their movements slowed, and came to an end only when the Verids pressed something on their backs, where the collarbone ended. To Keira, it looked like some sort of button. And after that...

Louder bangs. Keira climbed the windowsill to see the same red splotches she'd seen on TV a few days ago. The same red blood surrounded the children, but this time, it was her parents bathing in it. Both her mom and dad were lying motionless in a pool of blood like those children on the TV from a few days ago, and Keira screamed her small lungs out as she watched everyone leave. No one bothered to help them.

"Mommy! Daddy!"

She didn't set foot outside, knowing that she'd be taken away too, like her brother. But, she still screamed. She screamed as hard as she could, and waited for her mom to come back inside and hug her. She needed Dad to fix her bandage again. She needed Miles to annoy her with his paintings.

A few hours later, some people came and took the bodies away, as if they hadn't been alive just hours earlier. A few hours later, Keira grew hungry. It took a few days for all the food in the house to run out while she waited for someone to come for her.

It took another week for someone to fetch her, and the lady said it was a miracle she was even alive. They gave her a small mask, put her in the back of an insulated van, and took her away from her home forever.

The necklace with the woman on the pendant remained safe and sound as a bookmark in her favorite novel.