It started with the sense of not quite right. Everything felt all too real, yet at the same time there was a startling wrongness; things that just shouldnt be. Sometimes these slipped by unnoticed to him, the blips accepted by his subconscious as being normal, while at other times it was as if a big, flashing neon sign was pointing down at these abnormalities, trying to warn him that this wasnt real. In the early days, hed never noticed these until it was too late. On his most difficult days, these were what saved him from spiralling into panic and fear. On his good days, these were enough for him to break free.

Today wasnt a good day.

Sunlight bounced off the roofs of cars as far as the eye could see, the dazzling light causing Kurt to blink and narrow his eyes, squinting against the glare. He needed to find a parking space.

Steering the car down yet another row in the parking lot, he turned his head from side-to-side rapidly, searching for a vacant space. Nothing.

Despite the large volume of cars choking the seemingly never-ending parking lot, the whole area was almost eerily deserted. This didnt trouble him though, he was used to being in places as uninhabited as ghost towns. Not that he knew where he was.

As he drove at a crawl down another row of parked cars, he glanced around him through the windows, trying to gather some clues to take a stab at guessing where he might be. Palm trees were planted in strategic intervals throughout the desolate parking lot, the sky was the clear, bright blue of forget-me-nots - the blue of a warm summers day - and the air coming through the cracked window was warm. There were no signposts, parking meters, or markings on the road - features that Kurt associated with parking lots. When he reached the end of another full row he suddenly realised what was unusual about all of the parked cars: none of them had license plates.

Out the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a space between the endless blocks of color that were the back ends of parked cars - all of the cars were parked facing the same direction in an orderly fashion in the exact center of the spaces. He braked and the car came to a stop, the low rumbling of the engine loud in the complete silence of the surrounding area, and examined the space. It was between two small cars - one bottle green, the other cherry red - and was very tight, too tight for his car to fit into. Unbuckling his seatbelt he opened the car door and clambered out. Taking a step back from his car, he glanced between the car and the space, his eyes darting rapidly between the two, as he wondered.

The thought had barely formed in his mind when his car moved. One moment it was crouched on the road beside him, the next it was squeezed into the tight space he had been examining, somehow shrinking down enough to fit between the green and red cars. This would be considered unusual anywhere else, something to marvel at, but here it was a possibility; anything was.

Turning his back on his vehicle he set off along the row of parked cars. It felt a lot shorter walking it than it had done when he had been driving. His footsteps made no sound on the smooth, dark grey, featureless road; the only sound here was his own steady breathing. No singing birds, no breeze rustling through the palm trees, nothing, just a silence so complete that in another place it would seem suppressive, but was just natural here. He didnt know where he was walking to, just that he had to walk in this direction and that there was no other way for him to go.

A sprawling building rose up out of nowhere in the previously featureless horizon. One moment there was nothing but countless cars to see then, a blink of an eye later, the building was there. Just like the rows of parked cars had suddenly seemed shorter, one second the building was on the horizon, the next it was only several feet in front of him. He paused and tipped his head back to see a façade of dull grey concrete and numerous windows that he instantly recognised - his high school. There was no surprise at seeing it here, no sense of ‘this shouldnt be here; he had expected this.

He approached the glass and wood doors and pushed the right-hand one, it swung open soundlessly and he stepped inside. The schools foyer seemed to form as he looked around: the reception desk to the left of the doors, the wide double doors leading into the hall directly in front of him, the corridors leading to the classrooms off to the left and the right, the noticeboard on the wall just by the right door with several large, colorful, illegible notices and flyers pinned to it. Brushing a rogue strand of hair out of his eyes, Kurt took another step into the entryway and suddenly he wasnt alone. Faceless students and teachers crossed the foyer walking between the corridors and the front doors, some on their own, others in groups, backpacks slung over their shoulders, and books and files in the arms of several of them. None of them made a sound. The sounds of dozens of footsteps, the squeaking of shoes on the plastic floors, the loud buzzing of many voices interspersed with an occasional shout of laughter, sounds normal in any high school, were absent, and still the only sound was Kurts own breathing, except for a faint, almost imperceptible humming.

Like he had known where to go out in the parking lot, he knew where he had to go here. He crossed the foyer, students parting before him like the red sea for Moses.

The layout of his school was exactly as he remembered it and he walked purposefully along corridors and up staircases, his gait smooth and soundless, as if he were gliding. He didnt know what time it was, but nobody appeared to be in any classes as the corridors and stairwells were packed with students and the faculty members. Doors to all the classrooms were firmly shut, the rooms in absolute darkness through the small, square windows set in the doors and Kurt felt no urge to enter any of them - that was not why he was here.

The crowded corridors inexplicably began to empty when he reached the second floor. One moment he was pushing open the heavy fire doors set partway along the second floor corridor and streams of blurred people were moving soundlessly out of his way, the next he was glancing around blankly, wondering where everyone had gone. Confusion slowly began to settle in like the first snowflakes of winter, drifting almost lazily downwards to land on the ground, gradually building up over time.

The featureless corridor suddenly opened out on his left into a large area like an oversized alcove. A wide window let in generous streams of sunlight which striped in beams across the two rows of low wooden benches in the center of the recess. Banks of shiny, grey metal lockers lined the two walls perpendicular to the window, their brushed metal locks gleaming dully in the sunlight. The nearest beam of sunlight wavered a little as he stepped towards one of the benches, as if it were afraid of him, but it held its ground as he stepped into it. His shadow, dark and elongated, stretched across the floor in front of him as the sun hit his back. It lit the ends of his hair, turning them a golden blond color, but it didnt warm his back; there was no heat in the bright light.

A loud, clear voice suddenly rang through the alcove and echoed down the corridor. The voice was unfamiliar, male, and was issuing from what Kurt assumed was a PA system, though he couldnt remember if his school even had one of those and he couldnt see any speakers. The voice spoke mechanically with no emotion in its tone, announcing the imminent arrival of a tornado and advising everyone to take cover as quickly as possible.

Kurt spun around as the voice stopped and silence fell again. The sunlight was disappearing before his eyes like the sunset was running on fast-forward. The shafts of sunlight glided away from him and when the final one disappeared he ran forwards to the window.

The previously brilliant blue sky was now hidden by swirling, dark grey clouds that hung ominously over the school and as far as the eye could see. The clouds glowered down at him as he watched swirls of purplish-black being whipped into view by the strong wind that had started blowing. Lowering his eyes from the sky he saw the palm trees bending over almost in half with the force of the gale, fronds being ripped from them and flung through the air. The faint humming Kurt had heard earlier grew louder.

Turning away from the window he strode briskly past the lockers and out into the deserted corridor. He marched along it in the direction he had come from earlier until he reached the stairwell where he paused. A tall window spanned the entire height of the stairwell and through it Kurt could see the approaching tornado. The giant, funnel-shaped cloud was made up of a boiling, swirling mass of angry greys, purples, and blacks. Debris was being flung around in it like vegetables in a food blender. The thick clouds surrounding the tornado glowed every now and then with flashes of lightning. Where the tornado touched the ground the earth was being churned up, the concrete of the road torn up and demolished, and the trees were ripped up by the roots.

He stood frozen with awe for a moment, entranced by the sheer force and power of the storm and by the strange beauty of it: the roiling colours, the forking lightning, and the churning clouds. He stared until the storm came close enough for him to make out individual branches of the trees and chunks of concrete being flung mercilessly around by the funnel of cloud, and then he began to run.

He took the stairs three at a time, his feet thundering against the concrete and his hand grabbing at the banister whenever he misjudged a step and his foot slid off the edge, almost sending him sprawling. He didnt know where he was running to, but he knew he had to go somewhere else; he couldnt stay by a window or on a staircase.

Jumping the last four steps he landed in a cat-like crouch and sprinted off down the corridor, shoving at the fire door he encountered. The humming had become a dull roar and his breath escaped him in gasping pants. There was still no one else in sight.

Classroom doors stood wide open at random, revealing orderly rows of wooden desks and chairs facing a teachers desk at the front of the room instead of the darkness they had previously contained. Through the windows in every room he glanced in, searching fruitlessly for another person, he could see the ever-advancing storm. Impossibly large and dark, it tore towards the school, roaring and growling like some giant beast.

He was racing flat out along the corridor leading to the entrance foyer when he caught a glimpse of overturned desks out the corner of his eye. Skidding to a halt, he backtracked until he was standing in the doorway of a large classroom - one of the English rooms - his English room to be exact. Desks had been overturned, chairs thrown down onto their sides, and loose sheets of paper blew across the carpeted floor in the gusts of wind coming through the partially opened window. Kurt took a cautious step into the room, his eyes frantically searching for the person responsible. Wind blew hair back from his face as the tornado got closer and paper flew through the air, most of it now being ripped out through the rattling window.

Another step and he still couldnt find the source of the destruction. Loud crashing, banging, shattering, and roaring filled the air - the storm was starting to tear apart everything outside the school, like the untamed beast that it was. There was no more time to run; the school would be hit in the next few seconds.

He dived for the teachers desk, the only piece of furniture in the room that hadnt been toppled, and crouched under it, his hands gripping two of the sturdy legs so hard his knuckles turned white. The horrific sounds of the tornado beast sinking its claws into the school began a split-second after he took shelter under the desk. His heart pounded almost painfully in his chest, his hands shook, and the instinct to run coursed through him, but he gritted his teeth and held his ground; there wasnt any chance of outrunning the storm.

When the window shattered, he squeezed his eyes shut, pleading for the storm to somehow miss him. He didnt know who or what he was pleading with - unknown forces? The tornado itself? - but the fear drove him to it. These were the ones he really hated, the ones that induced real fear: hands trembling, heart racing painfully, muscles tensing, stomach churning, and shaky breath sawing out of him.

The sound reached an almost deafening decibel and it was impossible to identify individual noises of destruction; it had just become an ear-splitting, nonsensical roar.

The desk moved a little, scraping along the thin carpet, and Kurt gripped at it tighter, the edges of the legs digging painfully into the palms of his hands. It moved again, jerking backwards suddenly, the front of the desk smacking into his side and knocking him over. His eyes flew open as he hit the ground. He scrambled onto his hands and knees and crawled towards the wall of the classroom as the desk continued to scrape heavily along the floor. It smashed against the wall with a crash that was lost in the continual growl of the storm. Debris was smashing into the desks and the walls. It was close; there was no way he was going to make it out of this.

In what he was sure would be the final seconds, he glanced across the classroom through the small gap between the front of a smashed desk and the floor, his gaze skittering and panicky. He didnt know what made him do it - his bodys last desperate attempt to find an escape route, maybe - the last thing he wanted to see was the tornado tearing and growling its way over to him, a satisfied rumble emitting from it as it eyed up its new prey, but there was some pull that made him turn his head and look across the partially destroyed room. His gaze locked on a pair of wide, hazel-coloured eyes.

And then it was over.