Thanks! It was my first time writing any kind of story since like the fifth grade and I failed that writing assignment so I’ve been hesitant to write another story

Tea had been my drink of choice since I was a small child. My dad taught me how he always made it and that’s how I did it for years. I always loved the first glass of a freshly brewed sweet iced tea, only three or four ice cubes for a special kind of experience. Cold on top where the ice cubes were and then as I drained the glass, the sweet liquid would progressively get warmer. Colder tea is sweeter with that lovely aftertaste but warmer tea is always much stronger. It makes for a unique experience every time. However, when the pitcher that I always used broke, I had to use a much bigger one which caused the pot that I used to no longer hold enough water for the pitcher, and since I’d only ever measured the sugar by how thick the layer at the bottom of the pitcher was, all of my measurements were off and I had to find a new way of making tea. 

Since I had to do things differently anyways, I figured it’d be cool to try out adding some different things and maybe even finding something to substitute the sugar with and make the tea healthier. First I tried blueberries that I’d been growing for a few years. That turned out to make the tea pulpy and so I decided to try something else. On and on I went, experimenting with different combinations of fruits, spices, or anything that I thought would give it that special flavor, the one that I can seemingly only dream of. I must’ve tried over fifty combinations. So invested I had become that this little project had become a personal mission consuming my every waking thought and now following me to my dreams. One night I dreamed of this concoction with a cup of milk, a pinch of ground cinnamon, and several drops of vanilla extract. When I tasted it in the dream I experienced pure bliss, like all of my worries and fears melted away. So heavenly was that dream that I had to go and make it a reality. 

Brew the tea, pour it in the pitcher, add the milk, then the cinnamon, and finally the vanilla. I lowered a spoon into the pitcher, stirred, and when I was satisfied, I took it out with some of the tea in the spoon for a taste. Anticipation of my dream coming true filled my head, I could hardly wait to taste liquid heaven. I taste it and…

“*BLEGH* that is the most disgusting thing I have ever had the misfortune of drinking” I said as I spit it all out into the sink. The whole pitcher was useless. “Uggghhh” I sighed, “guess I’ll have to pour it all down the drain”. Only, after I poured the pitcher down the drain, the tea came back up. “Huh, maybe the garbage disposal is clogged” I wondered aloud as I reached my hand in to find the obstruction. I was very confused because I couldn’t feel anything besides that disgusting slop that was supposed to be tea. But as I tried to pull my hand out, it wouldn’t move. Actually, I was being pulled in! “What the hell is going on! Why can’t I get away!” The more I struggled, the stronger the pull. Eventually, my arm was so far down in the drain, the only part of it outside of it was my shoulder. “We’ll at least I can’t any further” I thought, “I guess I’ll just have to sit here until someone comes around and they can help me get out of here”. But I was very mistaken as somehow my shoulder and then my torso and head made it through the drain. Suddenly, I was through! I opened my eyes to find myself in a jungle surrounded by people and the sound of a waterfall behind me. 

One of the people stepped out from the crowd and said “welcome, newcomer, let us show you around your new home”. Unsure, I reluctantly took his hand and let him help me up. New home? But I was just at home, how did I end up here? What is this place? Why is he acting like this whole thing is normal? All of these questions and a million more circled through my head. Unable to decide where to start interrogating my tour guide, I instead, opted for silence. 

“Welcome to ‘Tē Dēśaya’, which if I’m not mistaken, in your language means ‘land of tea’” he proudly announced. “My name is Aldrin and I’m the leader of the tribe that you just joined.” If I was confused before, then I was now befuddled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t *join* a tribe, I just got here, wherever ‘here’ is.” “Sure you did, it all depends on how you created the portal and like I said the name of this place means ‘land of tea’. Which as you’ll come to discover is quite literal. Look at the trees, look at the dirt beneath your feet smell the air, and look and taste the water. All of the trees are *Camellia sinensis*, otherwise known tea trees, the  dirt is made up of ground and dried tea leaves, the air smells of tea, and last but definitely not least, the water is tea, each sip tastes different but is exactly right for whatever you desire in that moment. Whether it’s the temperature, sweetness, or strength, it’s always different but still always perfect.” “That sounds very nice and all but did you say portal?” I was beginning to think maybe the garbage disposal had turned on while I was playing “Operation” on the sink and now I was hallucinating from blood loss. “Indeed I did, tell me, did you once have a nearly perfect recipe for brewing tea and then one day something happened that prevented you from making it that way?” Aldrin gave me an amused look as my face turned to astonishment as he kept going, “and did you become obsessed with finding a new way to make tea to get that “perfect pitcher?” I was now thoroughly and completely bewildered. “Wha-, how did y-“ I sputtered. He just laughed and said “that’s how we all got here. It’s a very common story for all of us.” He motioned to the growing group of people behind us, I had forgotten about them until then. “So did you all dream about brewing a tea with mi-“. Aldrin clamped a hand on my mouth with a quickness I didn’t believe was possible. “Do not, under any circumstances, tell anyone, the recipe for what opened your portal. Yes we all had a dream that showed us each a different recipe, that’s the only point in which our stories differ, but if someone were to find out your recipe, they can use that information to do terrible things”. He looked away for second looking, for a moment, less like the leader of a tribe and more like a man who had lost something close to him, or someone.