“Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And, the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right hand. It is probably the most poetic thing I know about physics: you are all stardust.” –Lawrence M. Krauss

Spiralling. The world was spiralling around me in a blanket of white. White and green. The trees outside the window all looked the same; tall pines covered in a thick blanket of snow to keep them warm. I stared blankly out the window and watched as the colours blended together in a paintbrush’s .

The bare landscape around us echoed the sound of silence. No words were exchanged between the driver and I; it seemed unfair to shatter the symphony of silence that enveloped us.

We had been driving for hours; before midnight we started our journey and had been silently crawling across the country. We had passed the sea when the sun can up. It had been amazing to watch the thousands of colours of the sunrise drip down the easel of the sky and in to the water where they mixed and shimmered.

Now we were in the middle of a snow filled forest. The scarce moonlight gave off an eerie glow that reflected on the trees and made them shimmer. I turned my focus away from the trees and instead to my reflection on the window of the car. My eyes were tired, not because I had been driving for a full day without a minute of sleep, but because they had lost the light and love they once possessed and now reflected the self hate and worthlessness I felt.

I was tired.

My gaze flickered back to the expanse of green that lay in front of me. The expanse of green and white. A crescent of silver hung above the woods like a puppeteer smiling down ominously on it’s puppet; the world below. It dipped under the clouds like a ship in the sea behind a wave before appearing again.

We continued driving down the smooth path for what seemed like an eternity and no time at all. I blinked, startled when I saw small fairy lights in the distance peaking through the trees, dotting the horizon like stars in the night.

We continued down the cobble trail in silence until we got to a large black gate that rose ten meters high into the night. I raised an eyebrow at the stone eagle perched ominously on the pillar towards the left of the gate. A lamp stood undeterred by the blizzard that pirouetted around it, and cast an orange shadow over the bird’s proud face.

Eying the way that the wind twirled the blizzard around the bird like it was wrapping it up in a warm blanket with mild curiosity; I decided it was a security camera. I took a look at my surroundings; a long dark-red brick wall that softly curved about before disappearing appeared on either side of the car, reminding me that there was no escape from this place. This place I would call my home for a year.  

Clumsy movement in the corner of my vision made me face forward again. A bundle of blankets came hobbling towards the gate.

“Good evening, sir!” A muffled voice shouted from somewhere beneath the advancing heap. “Name?”

“I’m here with Mr. Kim. Kim Kibum.” The chauffer replied in a cool tone.

The heap regarded the information. Seconds later it seemed to find it relevant and a more welcoming voice rang out.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Kim! You’re earlier than we expected!” his excited voice ran through the cold night. A puff of warm air found its way out through the blankets.

The man seemed to realize that there was still a large gate between us, “Oh, yes, come in, come in!” 

 The blanket-monster waddled towards a dimly lit room on the right of the gate. Now exposed to the light, I could see the blanket-monster had a face that was only partially visible underneath the blankets that hooded him.

After a few seconds of mumbling profanities at the layers that surrounded him and intense struggling later, an arm popped out of the cocoon. A sausage-like finger pressed a button with a grace that only a blind duck with no limbs possessed.

The gate hesitated for a few seconds as if unsure what to do before it gave a low moan followed by a crunching sound, and slowly started creaking open.  

A small smirk was threatening to grow on my face – it was really starting to look like he had driven straight into a horror movie.

When the gates were fully open, the blanket monster called from his box, “Just follow the road – stick to the middle path and you’ll make it to the Big House. They’ll explain everything there!”

With a final bow of his head the driver started moving the car forward. Around the traffic circle and down the middle path.

Feeling impatient as we weaved through the trees, I stared out of the window searching for any signs of a 'Big House', but there was nothing except green. With a resigned sigh I sank further into the plush seat and closed my burning eyes that had not had a break for two days. Two days of no sleep was really taking it’s toll on my body.

‘Follow the middle path.’

The instructions had seemed simple until we came to an intersection without any middle path.

The driver brought the car to a halt. He leaned back with his eyebrows knotted, deep in thought. Seemingly having come to a conclusion, he turned around to face me.

“Sir-”

“Go left.” I told him in a bored tone and mild curiosity clouding my eyes.

“Are you sure, Sir? We can just turn around and ask for-”

“Go left.” I told him in the same tone with a challenging eyebrow raised and a mischievous glint in my eyes.

He hesitated and looked as if he wanted to argue, but seemed to think better of it and with a resigned, “Yes, Sir”, turned the car swiftly to the left.

We silently continued down the path for a few minutes with no turns, no sudden cliffs, and no 'Big House'. The chauffer looked like he was at his wits end when his eyes flickered to mine in the rearview mirror.

“Sir, please may I suggest that we turn around.” he said in a voice that was meant to be stong and professional, but wavered near the end, turning it into a scared puppy's begging.

I raised an eyebrow – a habit I need to grow out of.

I returned my gaze to the foliage. True, it was my denser than it had been before. I looked up and was disappointed to see that I couldn’t see the sky anymore.

“No, keep going. If we keep going in one direction we’ll find our destination eventually.”

“Sir, really, I don’t think this is a good idea.” He said, not even trying to hide his fear anymore.

One more look at the thick trees around us and an annoyed glance at the driver later, I decided there was no point in going back.

“Have you ever heard that if you’re stuck in a maze and you stick to right wall and keep trailing your hand along that wall eventually you will find the exit?” I asked him with a pointed look. “Think of this as a maze. A really big maze.” I looked out of the window thoughtfully, “Only with big scary trees that seem to want to swallow this car and send us down a never ending black hole in space that will eventually lead to another dimension - if we survive that long that is – where we will find a crystal copy of this world where we will have to go through this same forest again and repeat the cycle forever, instead of hedges. You know, it's a pity we turned left earlier... we may never make it out.”

Without replying he turned back to the front and sent the car lurching forward, speed limit forgotten.

Five minutes later the foliage started clearing up again and a non-existent weight seemed to lift off the driver’s shoulders and he let out a sigh of relief.

We continued up a hill and when we got to the top, there, at the bottom of the slope, was, as the man at the gate had said, a big house. A very big house.

My driver pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car first in record speed. I stepped out elegantly and my gaze found its way to the blanket being offered on the shaking man’s arm a few meters away. I scoffed quietly and shook my head.

Looking up again at the Big House I slowly began to realize why it was so affectionately named. A seven story building stretched overhead with dimly lit glass rooms covering every floor. The glass walls gave me a slight view of the top floors of the building – they looked empty, but it was hard to tell as the floors were all wooden. Mahogany.

The large door that separated us from the glassy haven swung open violently and a man waving his arms violently appeared.

“Up here, Sir! Hurry up before you freeze to death!”

I looked up in amusement. I glanced towards the shivering chauffer in front of me.

“Shall we?” I said in a sarcastic tone almost as biting as the wind.

Without waiting for conformation, I strutted forward through the blizzard with a deadly elegance I was often envied for and a hooded smirk on my face.

I walked up the stone steps as is I had all the time in the world taking in my surroundings.

The crisp air was starting to burn my nose and sting my eyes. The car park seemed to surround the building and roads led out of the park every 10 meters into the forest from whence we’d come.

I was at the top of the stairs when the man who awaited me spotted me. I watched in humor as his mouth fell open when he noticed my attire. My t-shirt that was doing noting to protect me from the cold, flapped in the violent wind around us.

“Oh dear God! You must be freezing! Come now, let’s get you inside.” He made a movement to grab me which I swiftly avoided.

My eyes hardened.

“I think you should be worrying more about him.” I jerked my head in the direction of the chauffer who was helplessly stumbling through the waist-deep snow.

The man’s face contorted in one of pity and concern and he pulled a face. He rushed down the stairs and into the snow where the driver had just fallen and now lay with his face down in the snow and the rest of body sprawled out awkwardly. He grabbed one of his arms to haul him up.

While the two continued their struggle through the white cushion, I rolled my eyes and stalked inside the warm looking building.

I mentally corrected my earlier statement; all of the walls were made of glass except the one on the far end and the one towards the right of the me which were made out of a glowing mahogany. There were dark maroon couches spread throughout the room and fireplaces trapped inside tall glass columns that reached the roof. The room smelled nothing like smoke which surprised me, instead it smelled like baking, like someone had just made a batch of muffins. I felt the tension in my shoulders drain away.

“Mr. Kim,” an icy voice called down from my left, “I take it you had no trouble finding your way here?”

I turned to see a man descending a spiral staircase made, as most of the building appeared to be, entirely out of glass, wearing a forced smile.

'Dressed impeccably at 1 O'clock in the morning'  I observed taking in his appearance. A white button-up hung loosely above where it was tucked into a pair of black pants.

I smirked back