Adam: gasping for air
I lunge upright, drenched in sticky sweat. My heart thunders in my ears—each beat rattling inside my chest like it wants out. I wipe the beads from my nose and push my hair from my eyes. Still breathing hard, I let out a small, shaky chuckle.
Adam, whispering:Again… wow.
Every night this nightmare comes back to pay me a visit. I don't know what it is, but it leaves behind a dread that clings to my ribs. I don't want to be scared—God, I'm so tired of being scared—but I can't stop it.
I turn to the fire, now nothing more than smoldering embers clinging to their last bit of light. The dirt pit is charred black, filled with hot gray ash. I take a few slow breaths, gather the strength to stand. My eyes feel like they're made of stone. I don't want to go back to sleep. Anything but returning to that… thing.
I scan the room. Moonlight slips in through the cracks, pale and cold, outlining the shapes of my family sleeping across the floor. A calmness softens my shoulders just watching them breathe. But it doesn't last—the fire is dying, and I need to rekindle it.
I step outside. The night greets me with a deep, pitch-black silence. A cold breeze cuts across my skin. I yawn and head toward the "community stock"—a shed a few families built to share whatever supplies we could spare. Firewood, tools… scraps of survival.
But as I approach, I notice the door hanging open. Inside, something moves—a shadow shifting in the dark.
My heart skips a beat
Adam:hello…?
The figure freezes as if startled and then—nothing but stillness.Confused, I step inside, inching forward cautiously.But there's no one or nothing but pitch black.
Maybe I'm losing it. Maybe I'm just exhausted. Either way, it doesn't matter. I crouch and gather a few pieces of wood.
That's when something glints in the corner of my eye.
A small flash of light.
I pick it up—a silver ring. Engraved inside: "Love, Robert."
I instinctively try it on, but it's too small—meant for a child, or a woman. But that doesn't matter either. It's just a ring. I shove it into my jacket pocket and head home.
Walking back, though, my gut won't settle. Someone was there. I felt them. But I just keep telling myself it doesn't matter—not tonight.
Inside, the fire is almost gone. Its faint glow pulses weakly, like a dying heartbeat. I set down the wood, grab the matches, and strike one. With a handful of dry weeds, I feed the flame until it catches—then roars to life, climbing up the logs, blackening them as it spreads with insatiable hunger.
Warmth rolls out, loosening my cold-stiffened fingers. I watch the flame dance, shadows swaying behind it on the walls like spirits.
And somewhere inside me, a quiet ugly truth rises:
My life feels over… maybe it never even really began.
I feel like a worm writhing in the dirt—not even a caterpillar dreaming of wings. And then my thoughts drift to the "Nobles"the superpowered, the chosen. People like me, except just better. So much better. Abilities beyond human reach..simply amazing.
How do you not feel small?
How do you not feel worthless?
Sometimes I think I'd be better off… just off.
I lay down near the fire, among the itchy furs. My eyes grow heavy at last. Warm air fills my lungs. My body sinks, loosens, lets go.
And in my final thoughts a prayer, a call to the universe.
That someone anyone save me
I need somebody to save me from this nightmare
To take me to paradise
Please...just please let me have this at least once in my life
THE MORNING
My eyes creak open as fierce sunbeams crash against them. I scrunch my face and turn away. Every muscle in my body aches from yesterday's hunt. Then an aroma finds its way to my nose—the stew.
I sit up slowly, arms trembling under my own weight. Folding the heavy furs aside, I see my mother at the pot, the long wooden spoon rasping against the inside as she stirs. I glance around, but my brother is nowhere in sight.
Adam:Ma, where's Robert?
She looks over her shoulder, a warm smile softening her tired eyes—her usual welcome to the morning.
Esmeralda:Oh, you know how that boy is.
She rolls her eyes.
He went over to the Robinsons. Said he wanted to see if they needed help with anything... but I know he just wants to go see that girl.
I snort. I forget sometimes what a dog my brother is—never could keep his hands to himself. It's gotten him into trouble more often than not.
Adam:Is the stew warm?
Esmeralda:Yes. I've had it on for a bit.
She fills a bowl and hands it to me.
I cradle it, inhaling the rising steam. Chunks of meat drift to the surface, herbs swirling lazily as the aroma hits me full force. My mouth waters at the thought of a bite.
And just as I lift the spoon—
A blood-curdling scream tears through the air outside.
I freeze. The bowl trembles in my hands before I set it down and rush to the door. I push it open a crack—
Adam:What…!?
There it is.
Amidst people scattering like a sea splitting around a rock—
A corpse.
No… a blob of human remains.
The ground is painted crimson, bone shards scattered like broken pottery, chunks of flesh strewn as though something hurled the body from the sky and let it splatter as if was rejected by the gods.
People run in every direction—some diving into huts, others sprinting for the treeline like frightened animals. We were roaches, suddenly exposed. A young boy stumbles backward, pointing upward with a shaking hand.
Goosepimples race down my neck, across my arms, and sinks into a cold pit in my stomach.
Floating high above—sunlight glinting off its dark form was a figure.
Winged like a devil.Just hanging there in the sky, watching.
Adam:MA! WE HAVE TO RUN!!
I spin around. My mother's face is twisted in confusion.
Esmeralda:Why!? What's happening?
A hundred thoughts slam into my mind. For a heartbeat, I consider bolting alone—just running, not looking back, not thinking.
But I can't.
I won't.
Robert flashes in my thoughts—hopefully already far off sneaking around with the Robinsons' daughter, able to run if anything happens.
Adam:Ma, just follow me. There's something out there.
I grab her wrist and pull her outside. I search the sky again, but whatever I saw is gone—nothing but open blue and terrified screams.
I don't want to think about who they belong to.
I just run.
We flee into the forest, branches whipping at our legs as we hop around stone and ditches.
Esmeralda:Where are we going, Adam?
Her voice is tight, trembling.
As we stumble over roots and rocks, I tell her about the plan Robert and I made long ago:
If anything ever went wrong, we'd meet at the hot spring at the base of the northern mountain, deep in the valley.
We keep running. The screams roll down the valley like ghosts chasing us. Gunfire crackles in the distance. Cry after blood-chilling cry fill the air
A nightmare, stretched across the daylight.
I only pray my brother is safe somewhere—and that this horror ends soon...