The car ride home was unusually quiet. Normally, Lily would chatter endlessly about her day—complaining about math or gushing over a new art project—while Sam would grumble about homework or argue with her over something trivial. But today, the car felt heavier, like the cold air outside had seeped in and settled over all of us. Their voices felt distant, muffled beneath the swirling thoughts in my head.

I kept my gaze fixed on the window, watching the world blur past in streaks of white and gray. Snowflakes clung to the glass, melting slowly as they met the warmth of the car’s interior. Trevor’s words echoed in my mind, cruel and sharp, intertwining with the exhaustion from gym class. My body still ached, but the weight of his taunts was heavier than any lingering sickness.

Mrs. Blake glanced at me in the rearview mirror, her brow furrowing slightly. “Everything okay, Emily?” Her voice was gentle, careful, like she was afraid of pushing too hard.

I nodded, but I didn’t trust my voice. “Just tired,” I murmured, hoping it would be enough to end the conversation.

She didn’t press, though I could see the way her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, like she wanted to say more. Instead, she focused on the road, letting the silence settle between us. Her quiet presence was both comforting and suffocating all at once.

When we pulled into the driveway, Lily and Sam didn’t hesitate. The moment the car stopped, they bolted inside, their usual after-school energy undiminished. The sound of the front door slamming behind them was jarring in the otherwise still air.

I moved slower, my legs feeling like lead as I climbed out of the car and trudged toward the house. The cold bit at my face, but I barely felt it. The warmth of the home greeted me as I stepped inside, but it didn’t chase away the numbness curling in my chest.

“Emily, do you want a snack?” Mrs. Blake called from the kitchen, her voice laced with casual concern. “I made—”

“No, thanks,” I interrupted, my voice barely carrying.

She poked her head out from the kitchen doorway, frowning. “Are you sure? You barely ate lunch today.”

“I’m just tired,” I said again, avoiding her eyes as I made my way toward the stairs.

“Bed?” she asked, clearly surprised. “But it’s barely four o’clock. Are you feeling okay?”

I hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, gripping the banister. “I just… I just need to rest.”

Her face softened, but the concern didn’t leave her eyes. “Okay,” she said finally, her voice laced with hesitation. “If you need anything, let me know.”

I nodded, but I didn’t say anything else. I turned away and climbed the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. The moment I reached my room, I closed the door behind me, leaning against it for a long moment before finally exhaling.

I wanted to sleep, but I wasn’t sure if sleep would come. The weight in my chest felt too thick, too solid, pressing down on me like a suffocating fog.

Still, I peeled off my school clothes and changed into an oversized sweatshirt, curling up beneath my blankets as the afternoon light filtered weakly through the curtains.

Maybe if I closed my eyes, the exhaustion would pull me under.

Maybe if I slept, I wouldn’t have to think about the way Trevor’s words still lingered like bruises I couldn’t see.

Maybe tomorrow would be better.

I wasn’t sure. But for now, I just let myself sink into the quiet, hoping that rest would find me soon.

In my room, I crawled under the covers without even bothering to change out of my clothes. The warmth of the blanket should have been comforting, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the cold feeling curling inside my chest. I buried my face into the pillow and let out a shaky breath, trying—failing—to push Trevor’s words out of my mind. No matter how hard I tried, they lingered, circling like vultures, waiting to sink their claws deeper.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that sleep would take me away from it, but it didn’t come. Instead, my thoughts swirled in an endless loop of exhaustion and doubt, tightening around me like a rope I couldn’t untangle.

Downstairs, Mrs. Blake set down the dish towel she’d been holding, her brow furrowed as she glanced toward the stairs. Something about the way I had disappeared so quickly didn’t sit right with her. She was used to me having quiet days, but this—this felt different. It wasn’t just tiredness. It was something heavier, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

She turned back to Lily and Sam, who were digging into their snacks at the kitchen table. Lowering her voice, she said, “Keep it down, okay? I think Emily needs some quiet.”

Lily paused mid-bite, her brows pulling together in concern. “Is she okay?” she asked, her voice softer now.

Mrs. Blake offered a small, reassuring smile, but even she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I’ll check on her later.”

Lily exchanged a glance with Sam, who just shrugged before taking another bite of his sandwich. But the playful energy from earlier had dimmed, replaced by an unspoken worry that none of them wanted to say out loud.

The house grew quieter as the evening settled in. The usual hum of conversation was softer, the clatter of dishes in the sink more distant. Mrs. Blake moved through the kitchen with a deliberate slowness, her thoughts still lingering on me.

After finishing up, she wiped her hands on a towel and made her way upstairs. She paused outside my door, hesitating. A part of her wanted to knock, to ask if I was okay, to sit beside me like she had so many times before. But she also knew me well enough to understand that sometimes I needed space before I could talk.

So instead, she sighed softly and turned back toward the stairs, making her way back to the living room. The worry hadn’t left her—it clung to her like a shadow, weighing on her shoulders.

Tomorrow, she thought, settling onto the couch with her book, though she barely read a word. Tomorrow, I’ll check in. Tomorrow, we’ll talk.

Because whatever it was, she knew it wouldn’t stay bottled up for long.

The room was dark, and I was alone. The walls around me felt too close, pressing inward, and the air was thick with smoke. I could hear my mother’s voice—sharp and cruel, echoing from somewhere I couldn’t see.

“Emily, you useless little girl!” she screamed, her words cutting like knives. “Can’t even do one thing right. You’ll never amount to anything!”

I tried to move, to run, but my feet were rooted to the floor. The smoke grew thicker, curling around me, choking me. My mother’s figure appeared in the haze, her face twisted with anger, her eyes wild. She stepped closer, her hand raised, and I flinched, bracing for the impact that never came.

Suddenly, the scene shifted. The smoke cleared, and I was standing in the school hallway. Trevor was there, his smirk cruel as always. Tasha and Lexi flanked him, their laughter cold and mocking.

“Look at you,” Trevor sneered, stepping closer. “Still trying to figure out who you are? Newsflash: nobody cares.”

Tasha chimed in, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe you should just disappear, Emily. Save everyone the trouble.”

Lexi laughed, her voice shrill. “Yeah, you’re just a burden anyway. No one even wants you here.”

Their words felt like punches, each one landing harder than the last. I tried to speak, to defend myself, but no sound came out. My throat was dry, the words caught somewhere deep inside me.

The laughter grew louder, echoing in my ears as the hallway began to twist and warp. Flames erupted from the walls, licking at the edges of the lockers. The heat was unbearable, and the smoke returned, thicker this time.

I turned, desperate to escape, but the hallway stretched endlessly before me. The flames crept closer, their roar drowning out everything else. Then I saw her—my mother—standing at the far end of the hallway, engulfed in the fire. Her face was twisted in pain and fury, her eyes locking onto mine.

“This is your fault!” she screamed, her voice rising above the roar of the flames. “You left me to burn!”

Tears streamed down my face as I shook my head, trying to deny her words. “I didn’t! I couldn’t have—”

The fire surged forward, consuming everything in its path. I turned to run, but Trevor, Tasha, and Lexi blocked my way, their laughter growing louder and louder, their faces distorted by the heat and smoke.

“You can’t run from us,” Trevor said, his voice low and menacing. “We’re always here.”

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest as the flames crept closer, their searing heat licking at my skin. Trevor’s twisted smirk grew wider, his eyes dark and unrelenting. “Why bother trying?” he taunted, stepping closer. “You’re always going to fail.”

Tasha’s laughter echoed like shards of glass, sharp and piercing. “You think you’re so special? You’re nothing, Emily. Nothing.”

Lexi leaned in, her face grotesque and warped by the heat, her voice dripping with malice. “No one cares about you. Not your mother, not anyone. You’re all alone.”

I tried to move, to push past them, but my legs felt like lead. My throat burned from the smoke, and the overwhelming heat made it impossible to think. I was trapped.

Suddenly, the hallway melted away, the walls dripping like wax until I was standing in the middle of my old house. The air was thick with smoke, the furniture blackened and charred, flames consuming the edges of the room. My mother’s voice rang out, loud and furious.

“You did this!” she screamed, appearing in the doorway. Her face was gaunt, her eyes wild, and her figure flickered like a ghost. “You left me! You abandoned me!”

“No!” I shouted, my voice cracking as I stumbled back. “I didn’t—I couldn’t save you!”

The floor beneath me groaned, the wood cracking and splintering as the fire ate away at it. My mother’s figure grew closer, her hands reaching out toward me, her eyes filled with a mix of rage and sorrow.

“You deserve this!” she shrieked. “You deserve to burn like I did!”

The floor gave way, and I plunged downward, falling into a chasm of smoke and fire.

I landed hard, the ground beneath me solid and cold. When I opened my eyes, I was back in the gym, surrounded by the jeering faces of Trevor, Tasha, and Lexi. The gym was dark, illuminated only by the flickering glow of flames that clung to the walls, twisting and writhing like living things.

“You’re pathetic,” Trevor sneered, his voice echoing unnaturally. “You can’t even stand up for yourself.”

Tasha stepped forward, holding one of the books I’d borrowed from the library. It was charred and smoldering, the edges curling with heat. “Is this supposed to help you?” she mocked, tossing it to the ground. “It’s worthless, just like you.”

Lexi crouched beside the burning book, her grin wide and cruel. “This is all you are, Emily. Ashes. Nothing but ashes.”

The flames closed in, the heat unbearable, and I clutched my head, trying to block out their words. “Stop it!” I screamed. “JUST STOP!”

From the shadows, my mother’s voice returned, softer now but no less haunting. “You can’t outrun what you are,” she said, her figure materializing in front of me. She wasn’t angry anymore; she looked almost sorrowful, her face pale and tired. “You’ll never be free of me.”

Tears streamed down my face as I shook my head. “You’re wrong,” I whispered, though my voice trembled. “You’re gone. You can’t hurt me anymore.”

Her figure began to fade, dissolving into smoke, but her voice lingered, soft and insidious. “I’ll always be with you, Emily. Always.”

The flames roared higher, swallowing everything in their path. I tried to move, to scream, but the heat was overwhelming, the world around me collapsing into fire and ash.

A scream ripped from my throat, startling me awake. My heart pounded so fiercely it felt like it would break free from my chest. The room around me was dark and still, but my nightmare clung to me like a suffocating fog. The faint glow of the streetlight outside cast jagged shadows on the walls, but it wasn’t enough to shake the images still burning in my mind.

My door flew open, and Mrs. Blake rushed in, her face pale with worry. “Emily? What’s wrong?”

Lily and Sam weren’t far behind, their wide eyes peeking from the hallway. “Is she okay?” Lily whispered, her voice trembling.

I was still shaking, my breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. “It was a dream,” I managed to croak, my voice breaking. “A nightmare.”

Mrs. Blake crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed, pulling me into a gentle embrace. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she said softly, her voice steady and soothing. “It was just a dream. You’re safe now.”

I clung to her, my tears soaking into her sweater. “It felt so real,” I whispered, my voice muffled. “I couldn’t get away... from the fire, from them... from her.”

Mrs. Blake’s hand stroked my hair, her presence grounding me in the moment. “You’re here with us,” she murmured. “The fire is gone. She’s gone. You’re safe now, Emily.”

After a while, my breathing started to steady, though the tightness in my chest remained. Mrs. Blake looked over her shoulder at Lily and Sam, still hovering in the doorway.

“Go back to bed,” she said gently. “Emily’s okay. She just needs some rest.”

Lily hesitated, her eyes darting between me and Mrs. Blake. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Mrs. Blake assured her. “I’ll stay with her for now.”

Reluctantly, the two shuffled back to their rooms, their footsteps fading down the hall. Mrs. Blake turned her attention back to me, her hands still resting on my shoulders.

“Emily,” she began, her tone calm but serious. “I think we need to talk about this. This isn’t the first time you’ve had a nightmare like this, is it?”

I shook my head, my gaze fixed on the blanket twisted in my lap. “No. But this one was... worse.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “I think it might help if you talked to someone. A professional. Maybe a children’s psychologist.”

I blinked up at her, surprised. “A psychologist? You think I need therapy?”

“I think it could help,” she said gently. “You’ve been through a lot, Emily. More than most kids your age. Talking to someone who knows how to help might make things feel a little less heavy.”

I hesitated, the idea of opening up to a stranger making my stomach twist. But the thought of living with these nightmares, of feeling like this forever, was worse. “Okay,” I said quietly. “I’ll try.”

Mrs. Blake gave me a small smile, her hand brushing a stray tear from my cheek. “That’s all I’m asking. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered, leaning into her steady presence.