It was a summer's day when I discovered the factory on the hill, the one all the adults pretended not to know about.

They’d say things like “it’s dangerous” or “there’s nothing to see up there” as if the building itself might overhear their words.

But to me, that only made it seem more inviting.

What can I say, I’ve created a reputation for exploring places I shouldn’t, finding comfort in the corners of the world. Whilst other kids climbed trees and played tag, I’d simply wander and turn abandoned sheds into kingdoms and collapsed fences into caves. The areas that had been forgotten and long since overgrown with weeds and layers of dust were where I felt most at home.

The factory called to me, drawing me in like a siren's song. 

Rust streaked the metal panels, the glass now covered with grime, and for the last few weeks I didn’t have the courage to take the next few steps inside.

But today was different.

My first few steps bounced off the walls, the echo mocking my fear as I took in a breath of stale air. Sunlight spilled through cracks in the ceiling highlighting the particles drifting lazily through the air like tiny creatures. Pipes webbed the ceiling, a distinct dripping tapping away in the distance as I continued my quest deeper into the factory. Broken doors lined the walls, some lying defeated, the hinges bent like they had once withstood an explosion, others remained strong with layers of dust so thick, it lingered in the air making it difficult to take a full breath.

One door seemed different, perhaps it was the sheen, or the way it stood in the centre daring me to try the handle. It almost seemed to be glowing. I passed over it blaming my overactive imagination, but found myself once again locked on to the door handle. My palm reached forward, my eyebrows puckered, glaring as much as any ten year old could at the cold metal I was faced with. You will open, I silently willed the door. 

A moment later the door swung with a low groan as I found myself on a metal grated mezzanine that creaked as I took another step into the room. The grating encircled a large metal vat, wider than my bedroom, deeper as well by the looks of the stairs going down the sides descending into nothingness. But it wasn’t the size of the vat that had me stumped, it was what was inside. I hesitantly slid my feet forward until I could get a better look inside.

Scrunching my nose, as if looking towards the sun, I gasped as I inspected the vat. It was full of a liquid so vividly blue that it almost hurt to look at.

It wasn’t the blue of the sea, nor of ink, or paint. It was a strange blue. Alive somehow. Yet it didn’t ripple, bubble or even reflect. It was as if the liquid was holding its breath, hiding a secret that it could barely contain.

I continued to examine the strange elixir, leaning further and further over the thin barrier, reaching my arms out until I could just touch the sides of the vat. Brushing my fingers along the metal, I was surprised by the cold temperature sending tingles down my arms. Before I had time to gasp, the barrier snapped in a sudden rush and I watched the pieces scatter with me, falling below. I quickly became submerged in the thick blue liquid chilling me to the core.

I realised much too late that I was sinking, I held my breath not wanting to breathe in the thickening blue that surrounded me. I had never been a strong swimmer and I fought with every muscle of my body to get to the surface. I clawed up the insides of the vat, slipping again and again each time I managed to get a hand on the top edge. I could hear the thumps from my feet kicking to get a foothold deafening me until I finally managed to grip the top and pull myself up. 

I took a lungful of air, it burned as I swallowed it down.

Pulling myself over the ridge I crawled my way out of the room and sat panting on the solid concrete floor of the factory. Wringing out my jacket, I watched the blue liquid ooze onto the floor. It must be some form of dye I thought, as I smushed the liquid under my trainers. Like a shot, the liquid began moving, making a bee line straight towards me, I hopped to the left, and the liquid changed course, I leaped to the other side of the puddle, and again, the liquid followed suit. Panic set in, the liquid really was alive. I continued my flailing motions and watched the liquid chase me around the hallway until enough was enough. I ran. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me down the hills towards my house, vowing that this was more than enough adventuring for one day.

That evening, my mum scrubbed me till my skin was pink, muttering under her breath that I had gone too far this time. I wasn’t listening though. I just kept thinking about that strange elixir, how did it move like that? 

The next morning, I awoke to my mum screaming from my doorway, a glass of orange juice smashing on my bedroom floor.

Immediately, I turned towards my mirror, and was met by an impossibly blue version of me. My once ordinary brown hair was now the same electric blue as the liquid of the vat. I pulled strands in front of my eyes to check the mirror wasn’t lying, wrapping it around my fingers and pulling it this way and that. Yep, it was blue alright, but not just any blue, this was the same blue as the vat. 

Over the next week we discovered no amount of scrubbing, dye or bleach could shift the colour. Each idea seemed to make my hair brighter as if it was fighting back with a vengeance. My forgetful shade of brown was appearing to be a thing of the past. The colour would have to stay, but so did all the questions. 

But I learned to live with both.

The incident at the factory faded into a strange childhood story, the people also stopped asking questions once they realised there were no answers that would satisfy their curiosity. I was just ‘the girl with blue hair’ - nothing special. I’ve grown into my hair, grown into my new name, Blue. And sadly enough, I’ve grown into the rhythm of small town life. It has never quite fit, yet it refuses to budge none the less.

Wake up, work, home, sleep.

Nothing ever changes.

I find myself longing for the adventures I went on as a child, maybe there's a pink vat with my name on it out there. What? I think I’d suit pink? But for now I settled for the stories I read, the fantasy realms where dragons reigned and travelling via space ship was a perfectly acceptable form of transport. Pulling into my parking spot, I turn the music down in my tiny beat up car. I usually listen at full volume so I can’t hear the racket it makes as it trundles down the dim roads, hoping and praying the ‘check engine’ light doesn’t appear on my dashboard. A space ship would certainly be more reliable than this. 

Slamming the boot shut, I began trudging my way up the stairs to my flat, arms overflowing with grocery bags as I fumble to get my keys out my pocket. They fall to the floor. Of course they do. Sighing loudly I attempt to pick them up whilst performing what could only be described as a cirque du solei balancing act with the multitude of bags I’m holding, until I successfully let myself inside. 

Kicking the door shut and dropping my bags to the ground, I take in the stack of unopened letters, sitting judgingly on my coffee table being held up on one side by coasters to ‘fix the wobble.’ My phone starts buzzing in my bag at yet another message I’ll probably forget to reply to. Filling the kettle with water I begin to wait for it to boil. It doesn’t. I try the switch again. Still nothing. “Of course,” I mutter under my breath like my mum used to, “Why would anything work today?” I slump to the floor needing just five minutes to decompress from the day I’ve had. The cold kitchen tiles almost seem welcoming as I work up the courage to go and shower. The only thing that could save the day is getting lost in another world, and that’s what drives me to get my shit together. Picking my sorry bones off the floor, I shed my clothes like a snake shedding its skin, before letting the water wash away the poor excuse for a day I’ve just survived. 

The warm light from the lamp on my bedside table softens my gaze as I reach towards the book I was reading. Flicking open the pages, I read a sentence. I read the same sentence again, a third time. My mind won’t stay still. 

The heaviness presses deeper, catching in my chest and making a home somewhere behind my ribs as my breaths become a little more difficult. The books aren’t working. The words running away from me. A knot between my shoulders throbbing as the tightness aches inside. I’m not angry, not sad, I’m just… tired. Tired of all of this. Tired of feeling like something was supposed to happen. Tired of being here.

I sit up letting the book fall to my stomach, my head in my hands. “I don’t wanna be here anymore” I whisper into the empty room. I feel the tears drip on to my chest before I realise I’m crying, and I slump back down into my pillow and let the night swallow me whole.

I awake with an overwhelming sense of danger. I lie still as I carefully listen to a lock clicking open, followed by the unmistakable creak of footsteps moving towards my room. Shit, shit, shit. What the fuck do I do? I grab the closest things to me, an unwashed coffee stained mug and the book I was reading. Abruptly getting out of bed I search for literally ANYTHING else. All of a sudden the door flies open with an unworldly force I’ve never seen. Startled, I throw my book towards the doorway as if that will solve anything. The darkness from the hallway shifts as my eyes begin to focus on the shadows, a large cloaked figure comes into view now blocking the full width of my cramped doorway. I see a glint as the figure raises something shiny from their hip. A dagger. 

Immediately the air around me whooshes past my ears, whipping my electric blue hair behind me as if caught in a wind tunnel. I turn my head seeing a shimmering line rip through the room in front of me. As it gets bigger the book flies open, pages whipping back and forth, and the lights start to flicker like broken Christmas lights. I raise my hand blocking my face to try and get a better view. The rip is bigger, a full circle now swirling round continuing to take up more and more of my space until it’s roughly my height. It glows the same vivid blue I remember from the factory, shimmering, swirling, alive. 

My heart thuds loud, I am once again that same child reaching towards the vat, each step I take is hesitant as I look around the room for reassurance that I am indeed still here. Another step, I feel drawn towards the anomaly, in my soul I know what this is, I just need to wait for my brain to catch up.

It’s a portal. 

A real portal. 

My breath catches in my throat as the portal pulses in front of me, raising my hand I feel the vibrations beyond, life breathes, another world breathes, tugging at me to just take one more step. And for the very first time since I was a kid, I feel a click inside my chest. A tiny piece slotting itself within, a perfect fit. 

It says; this is for you.

“Don’t do it” the cloaked figure growls from the doorway, as they raise their hand in a stop gesture. 

I glance around the room, looking at the overflowing laundry basket, an old pair of trainers that the soles are pulling away from, the plant in the corner I continuously forget to water. The dark figure still holds the dagger, blocking my only other exit. This isn’t just an escape, this is my way out. 

I turn back as I feel the adrenaline pump through my body, my palms begin to sweat as I calculate my next move. Am I about to do this? I look again at the dark figure taking a careful step towards me.

Without a second thought I lift my hand, making contact with the surface of the portal, except it’s not a surface. My finger tips glide through like tracing lines on the top of a still lake, a cold tingle beginning to spread up my arm.

“Don’t do this. You don’t know what you’re doing!!!” the figure yells now as their steps quicken towards me.

The portal wraps around me as I step through, blocking the cloaked figure as they attempt to lunge after me. I’m sucked protectively into the welcoming embrace of the portal, feeling like I’m being submerged in cold water. Like being submerged in the vat…

Immediately panic sets in, I hate being under water. But as quickly as it sets in, it leaves as I feel myself stepping on to solid ground. I take a lungful of air, the familiar feeling of burning as I swallow each gulp down. What the fuck was that? Did I actually just portal to another world? Who was that? Questions prickle under my skin as I take more and more burning breaths, until the right question pops up. 

Where am I?

Raising my head, I notice the sky above is a shade I’ve never seen before, the air hums with unfamiliar life, a musical sound in the distance drifts across the landscape. Slowly, I straighten. I did it. I used a portal. I’m in another world. And most importantly, I escaped.

A new world stretches out before me, as an incredulous smile spreads across my face. 

“Okay then” I say softly.

“Now what?”