Unfortunately, the only time Mum was able to book an X ray was very late in the afternoon, almost before the X ray place closed. The next day, the middle joint of her middle finger had swollen to twice its normal size.
"Look at that!" she complained.
I looked. "Wow, Mum!" I exclaimed. "If someone annoys you, it'll be double the insult!"
I walked off before she figured out what I'd meant. When I was halfway up the stairs, I heard her make a noise in her throat and mutter "Ellie…"
I doubted she would've been able to raise that finger enough at anyone, anyway.



After Mum and Dad had embarked on the fairly long journey to Eridessa, I informed Adam that I was going to go over to Amelia's place for the rest of the afternoon, and that we'd arrive at the community hall that evening together. He nodded, then asked, "Is there anything important you're planning on doing tonight?"
I shrugged. "No, why?"
He shook his head. "Just wondering," he replied.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why?" I repeated.
"If you don't start heading to Amelia's soon, I'll put your books out of order," he threatened.
I scoffed. "I'll put them back again soon enough. Why?"
"You'll see," he said.
"You'd better tell me, you know," I warned, hoping I sounded somewhat threatening.
He smiled challengingly. "Or else...?"
"Because you can't just say stuff like that and not tell me what you mean."
"Actually, I think I just did."
I glared at him. "You're planning something."
"Am I?" he said innocently.
"Just tell me!"
"That would ruin the plan," he said. "Anyway, as much as I've enjoyed this little conversation, El, I really need to get back to this work I'm doing, here."
He turned away from me, grabbed the headphones that were lying on his desk, and clamped them over his ears, ignoring me. I strode over defiantly and yanked them viciously off his head.
"Hey," he exclaimed, flinching and automatically reaching for the headphones I was holding.
"What are you planning," I asked furiously.
"I'm not going to tell you," he replied, slowly.
We glared at each for a moment. Well, I was glaring, Adam just looked at me in a 'Give-me-back-those-headphones-please' sort of way. But, in the end, despite the arguing, I knew he wasn't going to tell me. I threw the headphones back onto his desk, disgusted, and walked out.
Brothers!



I made my way to Amelia's house. It didn't take long, since she only lives down the hill and around the corner from me. I climbed the steps to her front veranda and rang the doorbell.
She answered it soon enough, throwing the door open and inviting me in. "Welcome to the madhouse," she said.
Visits to the Meyer household are never dull. In all my years of being Amelia's friend, I think I can safely say that something out of the ordinary would always happen on any given day.
I headed towards the stairs, and turned my head to look into the enormous library where Amelia's dad, Arthur, spent nearly all of his time. Books lined the walls, a few were scattered on coffeetables, and comfy chairs were strategically arranged around a large fireplace. Arthur was, as usual, sitting on one of these chairs, immersed in a book.



I squinted. "Is he reading the Bible?" I asked Amelia.
She peered through the glass doors herself for a moment, then said, "Probably. It wouldn't surprise me. He was flicking through it yesterday, too."
Arthur Meyer had long ago decided that all of life was nothing but an illusion, with everything that happened controlled by some master being, and we humans had no real control. Nothing was real unless we believed it was. Consequently, he had made it his quest to discover the truth behind the illusion. I wasn't quite sure what the long black coat, long black hair, bushy moustache and dark sunglasses had to do with this. Perhaps he was trying to shield himself from illusionary predators.
"Where's your Mum?" I asked, as we started up the stairs to the second floor of the three-storey house.
Amelia shrugged. "Not sure," she replied. "Probably in her study, consulting with someone about the meanings behind their nightmares, or telling them how to make a love potion or something."
I was greeted by the usual sight of two shut doors once we reached the second floor. This floor was where the bedrooms were located for Amelia, Mystery and Artemis. It was also the location of the main bathroom. The third floor was reserved for Dream and Arthur only. I'd never been up there, and wasn't sure what I'd find if I did eventually go exploring there one day.
Amelia strolled through the only open door, leading to her own sunny-hued bedroom. It was a stark contrast to the dark, textured colour schemes of the rest of the house – something I knew was intentional on Amelia's part.



She stretched out on her bed, while I sat on her lounge. Amelia sighed. "I've finally got photos for every family in this place."
I nodded. "Cool."
"The Desslers were the biggest problem," she continued with a slight groan. "All this witness protection rubbish…it nearly drove me insane. All I wanted was a photograph."
"But you got one, right?" I asked.
She nodded. "Not without a lot of encouragement, pleading, and persuasion," she said. "But yeah. Got there in the end."
We nodded at each other, as though in deep mutual agreement about something. Amelia picked at a loose thread on the bottom of her T shirt.
I suddenly remembered something else to talk about. "Hey, I haven't told you what happened to my Mum's hand yet, did I?"
"I heard Edward made a visit to your house last night," Amelia said. "What happened?"
Before I could begin, a bizarre rumbling sound seemed to vibrate through the floor, followed by some more scratchy, distorted electronic noises.
Amelia rolled her eyes and looked cross. "Hang on a minute," she muttered, striding across the room, opening her door, and walking quickly over to knock loudly on the door to Artemis's bedroom.
"ARTEMIS!" she yelled over the din. It stopped, and the door opened a fraction.
Artemis looked dully up at his sister. "Yes?"



"Can you keep it down?" Amelia asked. "We're trying to have a conversation, and you should know by now that you need lessons before you can play guitar properly."
"Are you trying to stifle my artistic expression?" Artemis asked.
"I'm trying to convince you that you can't actually play that thing."
There was a brief pause, and I could hear some kind of hardcore screamo music playing in the background. Artemis looked dejected. "Nobody understands me," he whispered pathetically.
"Don't start that again," Amelia sighed. "We understand you well enough to know that you can't play guitar—"
"But you don't understand me, really," Artemis repeated. He let out a little sigh. "I feel so…"
"Disaffected?" Amelia suggested. Artemis nodded, and Amelia snorted. "Well, write about it in your journal and stop playing guitar, OK?"
Artemis didn't reply. Instead, he just shut the door.
Amelia rolled her eyes at me again. "Hopeless."
We went back into her room and resumed our conversation. "Will he be alright?" I asked.
"He's fine," Amelia said, flapping her hand at me. "Stupid tryhard, that's all. Anyway, you were telling me about your Mum's hand?"
I briefly described what had happened. Amelia was a great listener – she really participated in whatever conversations she was having with people. Instead of nodding and making agreeable noises on autopilot, she actively gasped, laughed, or frowned in all the right places. It was an admirable trait that I was yet to find in anyone else.
We hung out for a while, watching TV and checking Amelia's MySpace. MySpace was one of the main methods of communication between the youth of Solitaria. It was the ideal form of non-verbal communication between people who were awake at different times (such as the Guildensterns) or who never left their room except to go to the hall meetings (such as Mystery and Artemis). The only one of us without a MySpace was Hannah, but we weren't sure exactly how much she could really understand, as no one had any idea what shape her addled brain was in.
After a while, Amelia looked at her clock and frowned. "Mum should've called us for dinner by now…I'd better check."
Once again, we left Amelia's room. This time, there was some kind of noise coming from behind Mystery's door: a high, long wail set against familiar guitars and strings.
"Ahhhhhh, ahh-ahh-I'm, looooo-sing my mind…"
Amelia banged on the door. "Mystery, give it a rest, yeah?"
"…staaaaand, there and staaaaare, as my woooooorld divi-iiiiiiiides—"



Amelia threw the door open, and the music crescendoed before falling away dramatically. Mystery pivoted on the spot, stared directly at her sister, and crooned "Yooooooou! Belooooooooong! To meeeeeee…"
"Dinnertime," Amelia said.
"…my snoooow, white, quee-eeeeen…"
Amelia shut the door again without comment. She then proceeded to knock on Artemis's door, but there was no response. She gave up and started walking downstairs in disgust.
A little concerned by the lack of noise coming from inside the room of her brother, I opened the door to check on him. He was sitting in his chair, sobbing, and I noticed angry red marks on his wrists.
"Artemis!" I exclaimed, rushing over. I stopped in my tracks, then yelled, "Amelia!"
"What?"
"Your brother's hurt!" I cried. A second later, I heard footsteps hurriedly thumping up the stairs again, and Amelia came into the room.
"What's happened?" she asked me, genuinely concerned. She then looked at her brother and let out the biggest sigh I'd ever heard her give.
"Oh, for God's sake, Artemis. Grow up." She turned to me, and led me out of the room. "Come on…"
"But what about his wrists?" I exclaimed. "He's hurt!"
"He's done this many times before," Amelia explained patiently. "He tries to do the whole emo thing, you know…" She mimed cutting her wrists, and I cringed. "But he's so pathetic and lacking courage that he ends up just getting a few raw red marks. He then pretends he actually cut himself whilst getting those marks. It's definitely nothing serious. Come on."
A little bemused, I followed Amelia downstairs, where she started looking for her mother. It didn't take long to find her: she was outside, meditating under a tree.



Amelia stood in the doorway. "Mum!" she yelled.
Dream opened her eyes very slowly and raised her eyebrows at her daughter.
"Are you planning on starting the dinner?" Amelia asked.
Dream's eyebrows lowered. Then she went on with her meditation, leaving Amelia to cook.
She sighed again. "Ellie, what am I going to do with my family?" she wanted to know.
I couldn't reply.