Yesterday's Gone: Season One

the path. It would be terrible to get lost...here.
    If she didn’t keep walking she would never get to the end of the road. And that’s where the answers were; her dream logic told her.
    Without warning, the scenery changed, instantly shifting from rich, warm colors to a sea of grays. From Oz back to Kansas.
    Flat landscape gave way to a tapestry of small gray hills at the front, larger ones in back, growing in size until they crashed into charcoal smeared mountains that stretched high and into churning gray clouds overhead.
    Paola was walking for hours, or perhaps seconds, when she realized what the mountains were made of. At first they seemed like nothing more than ash-colored wedges of dull pulp, but as they grew in size, they sharpened in detail.  
    Piles and heaps and rivers of refuse were there; herculean hallways of nothing but garbage: cracked plastic, shredded paper, twisted metal.  
    The piles, along with the rising landscape getting closer to the clouds above, sent Paola into a cold claustrophobia. Paola saw a figure in the distance standing on the right side of the road, its shoulders slouched and its back to Paola. It looked like it was holding something close to its body as it swayed from side to side.
    She inched toward the figure, and brushed against a gnarled root coming out of the ground. Only it wasn’t a root, but rather, more garbage. As she touched it, her mind flashed back to when she was six years old.  

    They’d been looking everywhere for her kitten, Doodles. But the cat had gotten out when Paola had accidentally left the front door open. Someone was at the front door. Their neighbor, Mr. Jerry. He said he’d found the kitten in the road. It had been hit by a car. He held it in his hands, its rear legs crushed. Paola cried both as a child, and now as she relived the memory.

    That’s when she realized that each piece of the garbage was, in fact, made from her memories. She wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she was suddenly certain that the memories were painful and could swallow her whole, if given the chance. As if the memories were stripped of nutrients and only the bad stuff was left.  
    The stuff that made you cry or feel lonely; hide or want to die.
    Paola gasped when she realized the person on the side of the road was her father. He was pushing a broom and clearing the road from any stray or dangerous memories. He turned to Paola. “Not quite safe to pass yet,” he shook his head. “Been going as fast as I can, but they just keep piling up.”
    “What happened?”
    “Something upset the apple cart. Plowed right through, fast as it could. Looks like it took everything with it.” Paola’s dad pointed off the trail toward a black bricked spire rising from the ground and pointing toward the sky. “See that, that’s where he is.”
    “Who?”
    “You know who,” he said. “Same one who sent you inside here.”
    “Why is he inside me? I can feel him in me.”
    “He’s not whole. Most of him already left, but a part of him broke off. Like a snake.”
    “Do I have to go inside?” Paola asked, looking up at the black castle, and the dark memories surrounding her suddenly seemed less scary by comparison.  
    “No, sure don’t,” he shook his head. You could wake right now if you want to. Everyone will see you and you’ll see them. But you won’t know who they are, no matter how hard you try. You won’t even know who you are , not ever again. Because all this,” he waved his hand at the mountain of memories. “Every bit of it’s gonna be gone.”
    “What’s inside the castle?” Paola asked.
    “I don’t know anything you don’t,” he said, “but I can tell you what you’d probably guess anyway if you think it will help.”  
    Paola smiled. The man who was only sort of a memory of her father had said that exactly like her real daddy would have.  
    “Okay,” she said. “Then tell me that.”
    “That castle is the middle of you. It’s your soul. Inside, there’s something to fight or face, or team up with or tell off. I don’t think you can know until you get there, but you can expect it to get rough. Just make it through, and never forget what’s on the other side of the spire.”
    “What’s on the other side?”
    “Me, your mom, the rest of your life, of course. But you can’t have it without this.” He snapped his fingers and the warm colors of Oz flashed across the sky before going dim a second later.
    “Are you still alive?” she