If I were to dream of what I thought a magical world looked as a kid, this place would be the version of heaven that I see in my head. This world exhales into color. I felt like I was looking at a heavily edited picture done in a photo editor, the saturation felt like it was going to drip off. Is this place familiar? I glance down where Houdini is acting like this is the best night of his life, but we are in a new world being possibly chased by something. I see that every hop he takes there's a ripple effect off his feet onto the ground, like the ground is bio-luminescent, and our steps are making waves.

  A narrow dirt path winds forward, worn smooth like countless feet have walked it. Lanterns glow from no lamps, hovering lightly above the ground like fireflies. Flowers crowded the base of ancient trees, impossibly bright, as if painted while the painter was crying. Houdini’s whiskers twitched as he brushed against my ankle. “It’s beautiful," I whisper. "well, you know what they say Houds? A soft landing means you were expected."

  Wonderland answered with a subtle shift in the shadows—as if beauty wasn't its only opening trick. "What is happening right now? Maybe I hit my head, I'm going to be so mad if I wake up and there's blood on this coat." Looking from Houdini to myself to make sure my coat didn't have something on it, I realized that I was wearing different clothes. I looked like I had stepped out of an RPG game, and it felt like something magical had given it to me. I don't remember putting this on… but it feels like it knows me. Not that I was playing an intruder, but this was being welcomed home with my character specific setting.

  I start panicking, where is Dad's coat?! I look behind me to see if maybe it fell; there's no longer a path behind us anymore anyway- the field is gone and it's just a thick, unpassable forest. Fear tightens around my chest and throat; frantically look all around and it seems like the trees are leaning forward. Are their colors literally bleeding? No, bending? It’s like the world is turning inwards on itself- shrinking onto us. Wait, where’s my handbag, then notice it has turned into a full knapsack that is on me like a backpack. I freeze for a second and then start ripping it off of me. Houdini, sensing my panic and urgency, turned around and came up to my leg and stood on my foot with his front paws. I start desperately grabbing at the flap and then drawstring to open the bag. Sitting folded neatly on top is my dad's coat, in one of the big plastic bags. I grabbed the bag and clutch it to my chest; a small whimper escaped with a few tears.

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  "I thought I had lost you for a second there, don't do that," I breathe shakily for a few moments. I feel Houdini nose bump my shin and start digging on my leg to get my attention. I bend over and start petting him between the ears. "it's okay Houds, sorry to scare you but that really scared me." I stare longingly at the jacket for what feels like hours. It's really in my hands, it's safe. I smile softly and gingerly put it back into my bag. It feels suddenly like the air itself is lighter, not as tightly clung as it was just a moment ago. I stand straight and Houdini finally turns and is making small hops in front of me, not going out as far as he was.

  It seems like he decided we don't need to rush, we can take our time now. Does he know this place? Wait that's crazy, I shake my head back and forth; something that had become a nervous tic in recent years. It was like a denial of something or a thought I wanted out of my head and literally shaking it out. He didn’t seem afraid, even though he is a prey animal. Why is he so confident here? I could see the light ahead getting brighter, but the sky stayed the same as if there was no light pollution from a small town or city. They kind of look like my home; maybe we’re still in Ireland after all. Looking down, I realize there are still waves forming from us. Well in a dream anything is possible I guess, why not bright galaxies and light echoing footprints- that's totally NORMAL!? This just has to be a dream.

  Houdini pauses then stands on his hind legs again, sniffing fervently. I smile, “So what are you sniffering down there babe?” He stays still, almost frozen in what looks like indecision. Houdini got down and sat; I swear I could see the wheels spinning in his head. I look in the direction he seems set on and sniff about the air; oddly enough it smells familiar. Houdini jumped up almost in a binkie, like he was now excited about whatever was going on. He then started heading not towards the homes that lead to the city but towards a lone house sitting to the side. It’s as if it was almost forgotten but felt too noisy to be abandoned, that’s weird... is that a rainbow? At night?

  As we get closer to the house, it seems like a different building altogether now. A gorgeous Victorian mansion appears, dark and edgy- straight out of a dark romance novel. The vines crawl up the walls, threatening to swallow the mansion whole, yet the flowers blooming along them make it look enchanted instead of abandoned. Is that a butterfly? What the heck is wrong with its wings?

  Then the world tilts, shadows stretching toward me like they recognize us. A faint metallic ticking starts up somewhere behind her, steady and wrong — like time itself is clearing its throat.

  Houdini stops abruptly and I slowly come to a sudden realization.

  Someone is watching us.