The Conspiracy Theory of June 17

10.

"Damon?"

He jumps at the sound of his name. "How did you-" he starts, then his eyes widen.

"Jessie?"

"Wait, this isn't the bus stop. Where is this? Wait, where's Drew? And Jada?"

"Um," Damon blinks. "Wha-how-who-"

The two stare at each other with nothing but utter shock and confusion. They don't stay like this for long, though, because Mrs Renee walks in moments later.

Now, Mrs Renee is hardly surprised or shocked - even when those men came in she didn't seem to react all that much. However, she did jump at the sight of Jessie perched on the bed.

"Hi, miss," Jessie says in her most normal voice possible.

Mrs Renee stares at her for a couple of seconds, but it seems like several minutes before she says,

"This is more serious than I thought,", looking at Jessie and then Damon. Without saying another word, she leaves the room.

Damon walks over to Jessie and outstretches his hand, "I think we should follow her."

Jessie tosses off the covers off the bed and hops off. "Well, at least I'm not alone anymore."

"Forever the optimistic, eh, Jessie?" Damon says he pulls her onto her feet.

"What happened?" he finally asks. Jessie sighs, and while they walk downstairs to Mrs Renee, she starts telling him the huge story about everything - Drew's words, the pub, the guy who seemed like he was deaf and who then wouldn't leave, the flushing toilet part, and then the part he was sucked into nothingness, when she thought she was being transported to the bus stop but actually just ended up here. Damon was laughing mostly throughout the story but stopped when he noticed the stern look on Jessie's face, and started exchanging some kind words of concern.

"You should tell Mrs Renee...if we can find her," he says, now at the bottom level, looking around for their obviously occupied English teacher.

They finally find her in the dining room, in a state less than okay. Her curly mop of hair looks significantly more dishevelled as she's leaning against the table, staring down onto it, gripping the edges until her knuckles turn white. Her face is slightly flushed, but you can tell she was somewhat distressed, as if she'd realised something completely dastardly and had no way of stopping it. Or maybe she was just concentrating on something. Either way, it was strange and unusual seeing her like this. Both Damon and Jessie look at each other simultaneously, surprised, then look back at her, not knowing what to say.

Before they do, she releases her hands and pushes herself off the table and exhales, as if she'd been holding her breath all that time. She jumps up off her seat, turns around and grabs the kitchen bench-top, and then moves the curtains off the tiny window above the sink. She stares out.

Damon and Jessie carefully come a bit closer, so not to disturb whatever she's doing. They wonder if she's even noticed their presence until she slowly whispers "I'm afraid I can't teleport us back."

Damon quickly blurts out, "Why not?" while Jessie's first thought is she can teleport too?

She looks at him, and then Jessie, her eyes distant and far away. Then, she speaks once more.

"We're in a different time zone."

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