Flames danced behind her eyes. Screams rang through her ears, getting louder by the second. Blood soaked the dirt; Smoke choked the sky. It would never end. She was trapped. Forever…

“Kilah!”

The sharp voice cut through her thoughts. Kilah jerked upright in her chair, heart pounding beneath her ribs. Disoriented, she blinked at the faded wallpaper and the chipped edge of the kitchen table. Where was she? What was happening?

Her heart slowly began to settle as she realized she was in the kitchen. There was no battle. No monsters. Just an angry mother who looked just as dangerous as the sharp blades in the dream.

“I’ve been talking to you for over a minute, and you’re just sitting there, staring off into space. Are you even listening?”

Kilah blinked. “I…I’m sorry. I just—”

“You’re daydreaming again. About what? Unicorns and fairies? You’ve got breakfast in front of you and chores to do, but you’d rather float off to Dreamland?”

Kilah looked down at her bowl. Cold. Untouched. Just like yesterday. And the day before that.

“I keep having this dream,” she muttered. “It won’t go away. Every time I close my eyes, I’m somewhere else. It’s like someone’s calling me, like it’s all real.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a thin, pale line. Something else lingered there, however.

Fear.

“Kilah. It’s a dream. People don’t call you from dreams. Dragons and monsters and... whatever that nonsense is? A fantasy. You’re too old for that.”

“I’m not pretending,” Kilah said quietly.

“You think life’s hard now? Try living in the real world instead of your imaginary one. That’s hard,” her mother snapped. She paused for a second, gazing off into the distance. Her angry expression wavered for a second as she said, “Your father is out working as hard as he can to support this family. Don’t you think it’s hard on him not to see us for a month? The least you could do is help out, being the oldest.”

Kilah didn’t answer. What was the point if she wasn’t going to be heard anyway?

The silence stretched. Her mom’s back stayed turned for what seemed an eternity before she finally said, “It’s time for your chores. The animals need to be fed.”

Sighing, Kilah grabbed her phone and stuffed it in her pocket. She turned away to leave, but her mother stopped her.

“Oh, and I’m afraid I’m too busy to drive you to the airport for camp later. You’ll have to walk, or hitch a ride with someone else.”

Kilah stopped in her tracks, hand still frozen on the doorknob of the front door. “You’re not taking me?”

“That’s what I just said, yes.”

Her heart dropped for a second, but the feeling was quickly replaced with anger. What was so important that her own mother couldn't take half an hour to drive her to the airport? This was the last time she would see her daughter for a month! Didn’t she care at least a little?

But looking back at her mother’s stone-cold face, the answer was clear.

“Fine,” Kilah whispered, swiping a stray tear from her eye before her mother could see. Without hesitation, she yanked the door open and let it slam behind her. However, as she stepped into the cold morning air, the smell of smoke still lingered in her nose.

***

The house still echoed with the tension of the morning. Kilah paused in the hallway, listening for any sound from her mother—no footsteps, no voices, just the faint hum of the refrigerator and a clock ticking somewhere in the kitchen. She tightened her grip on the handle of her battered old suitcase, which she’d quietly packed earlier, and crept toward the back door.

Kilah wiped the sting of tears from her cheeks, her palm coming away damp and cold. The boards beneath her feet creaked as she crept around the side of the house, the faded paint cool and rough beneath her fingertips. When she tugged her battered suitcase from behind the porch steps, a swirl of dust tickled her nose, and she glanced up, heart pounding, half-expecting to see her mother’s silhouette darkening the kitchen window. The afternoon air felt heavy and still as she quietly rolled her luggage down the gravel driveway, dodging potholes and the neighbour’s yapping dog.

She hesitated on the road, heart pounding. The walk to the airport would take at least an hour, but she was determined to make it on her own. With a deep breath, she set off, the suitcase wheels bumping along behind her.

The gravel road was eerily quiet. The only sound heard was her own echoing footsteps on the warm dirt path. Her eyes constantly darted towards every creak of the wind or chirp of a bird. She usually wasn’t this uneasy. But today felt different.

A few minutes into her walk, the gentle rumble of a truck engine made her freeze. A rusty old pickup truck lurched to a stop beside her. She debated whether she should stop or keep walking, but familiarity tugged at her.

The window slowly rolled down, and a familiar gruff voice called out, “Need a ride, missy?”

Kilah studied the man in the truck. He was a short, old man with wispy grey hair and beard. On his head was a baseball cap that made him look like a teenage wannabe.

Sighing in relief, Kilah offered a smile. She’d know that man anywhere. It was Mr. Abner, her English teacher from last school year. He was always tough on his students, but had a kind heart beneath it all.

“Mr. Abner! I’m glad to see you. I could use a ride to the airport, if you’re alright with that?” Kilah yelled up at him, the grumbling of the engine drowning out most of her voice.

“Well, now, I’m going that way myself. Hop in, Ms. Kilah.”

Grinning, Kilah hurried to the passenger side, tugged open the stubborn door, and slid onto the cracked leather seat. The cab smelled faintly of old coffee and gasoline, and the seat’s worn stitching scratched at her legs as she hauled her suitcase in after her. Mr. Abner waited until she was all settled before putting his foot on the gas pedal again.

“So, how come you went out this way?” Kilah asked after a few minutes of silence, except for the dim murmuring of the radio.

“Oh,” he heaved a sigh. “Just taking in some of the summer sights.”

“Yeah. It sure is pretty out here.” She looked out the window fondly. “How’s your summer break going? Or are you teaching summer school?”

“Fine, fine,” were his only words.

“Well, that’s…nice.” Kilah moved on to another topic, hoping that would spark a conversation. “I was wondering. Will you be teaching me again in the fall, or will that be a different teacher?”

Mr. Abner didn’t respond, just kept his eyes peeled on the empty dirt road. She waited, silence stretching between them like a wire. Finally, she gave up, turning to stare out the window at the blur of fields and telephone poles.

Since there was nothing else to do, Kilah took out her phone and shoved some earbuds into her ears. As her foot quietly tapped to the beat, she felt a tiny click as her foot landed. Giving Mr. Abner a curious look—which he wasn’t paying any attention to anyway—she subtly bent down and studied the carpet floor. There was a tiny fold in the fabric, from which something seemed to be inside.

Her fingers probed the small crease in the floor’s carpet, brushing against something hard and icy-cold. knew she shouldn’t have been prying, but part of her was desperately curious. Glancing at her teacher again, who didn’t notice a thing, she drew it out slowly, the metal gleaming dully in the sunlight.

It was hard to conceal her gasp as she looked at the object. Mr. Abner glanced over at that, and she quickly jerked it behind her.

“Sorry. I…I just saw an animal, and I thought we were going to hit it.” Kilah said calmly.

“Ah.” He looked back at the road.

Kilah glanced back at the silver dagger beside her, jewels glinting on the hilt. It was a beautiful thing, but obviously meant for more than looks. Its blade was dangerously sharp and had a streamlined shape that would make stabbing an effortless task.

The question was, why in the world would her former English teacher have a dagger concealed in his truck?

Maybe it’s for intruders, her mind tried to reason. Still…doubt lingered at the back of her mind.

“Wait!” Kilah exclaimed, yanking her earbuds out. “You took a wrong turn.”

Her teacher didn’t blink.

So, she tried again. “Mr. Abner, you took a wrong turn. The airport is that way.”

“I didn’t take a wrong turn, Kilah Lee Petrie.” Mr. Abner said, his voice somehow different than before.

More eerie.

Kilah’s breath trembled as she studied her ‘teacher’ closer. His hand…there was a huge scar on it, running from the tip of his index finger to his wrist. Mr. Abner never used to have a scar on his hand.

“Stop the car,” Kilah demanded, gripping the dagger in her left hand. “I said stop it!”

“No, Kilah Lee Petrie. I see your fate. I see your mission. And those who oppose him shall be eliminated, for the safety of our world.” The words sounded wrong. His voice was off, too smooth, the edges stripped away. For just a moment, his entire figure seemed to flicker.

Eliminated?

Panic squeezed her chest. With trembling fingers, she grabbed the steering wheel and yanked it sideways. The truck lurched suddenly to the right, tires shrieking across the asphalt.

They should’ve died.

Instead, the truck skidded wildly, veering toward the ditch. The engine roared, wheels spinning as they hit mud, and the whole vehicle jolted. Then, impossibly, it stopped, half-hanging over the ditch, as if held in place by invisible hands. For a breathless moment, nothing moved.

The imposter turned, eyes blazing red. He didn’t even glance at the drop below. “Problems must be eliminated,” he repeated, his voice flattening until it sounded mechanical.

Kilah’s hand found the door handle, but she hesitated. If she opened it now, she’d drop straight into the ditch. Her other hand clenched the dagger so tightly her knuckles ached.

The imposter leaned closer, moving with chilling slowness, as if savouring her fear. Just before he could reach her, Kilah whipped the dagger out, pointing it at his throat. Her hand shook; sweat slicked her palm.

Would she actually do it? Stab her favourite teacher, even if he wasn’t real? Or would she freeze?

He snarled, lips peeling back to reveal jagged, yellow teeth. Hot, sour breath blasted her face. “Go on then, little hero,” he laughed. His voice was thick with mockery, but his eyes glittered with hunger.

Kilah’s mind screamed at her: I have to do this. Now!

She was supposed to be a leader. Everyone counted on her to do just that. And a leader has to lead. No room for hesitation.

With a shuddering breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and drove the dagger forward. She braced for the blood to coat her hands, the sickening groan. But when she opened her eyes, her hand met only empty air.

The imposter was gone. Nobody, no blood, not even a sound. Just…gone.

Kilah sat there for a second, dagger raised, eyes darting around the truck. Nothing. A few minutes passed, and still nothing. Her heartbeat gradually began to settle, and the tingling in her skin ceased.

It was over.

A wave of nausea hit her. Had she killed someone? Her teacher, or a look-alike, anyway. It hadn’t even been hard.

What did that mean about what she could do if given the chance again?

Biting her lip, she edged toward the driver’s side, careful not to look down at the ditch spanning below. She pushed open the door and inched along the frame, stretching her foot for solid ground. At last, her shoe found it, and she scrambled out.

Just as she did, the truck groaned and slipped, then crashed down into the ditch below. A massive, splintering noise echoed behind her. She stared, stunned, as pieces of metal tumbled out of sight.

Something had held the truck up until she was safe. She didn’t want to think about what.

Clutching the knife, she took off in a sprint towards the airport. She needed to get out of here. Far, far, away.