Young Writers Society

She raised her head up when she heard Hablex clear her throat.

A small, hesitant smile danced across Wren's lips when she saw the message. Part of her knew the belief came from Hablex being from another world, but she still whispered a quiet word of gratitude. She was just happy that someone present didn't think she was a liar.

Her gaze dropped down to the ground again.

And it was good that it dropped when it did - her eyes went from their usual amber to a stormy gray, though Wren was entirely unaware of it.

Amy was thinking of Jadon again, how she wanted to wring his neck countless times, how he wished he could just one, be quiet for a class period, and two, sit still, but he was a good kid. He loved Star Wars and superhero comics, and he always seemed to be wearing a shirt with a different logo on it. If he actually applied himself, there was no limit to what he could do. She knew he didn't listen to his parents. So maybe he would listen to her.

"There's a kid I teach, back in Seattle," Amy said. "He's sweet but he's...um, a lot. He'd love to be here right now. He wants to be a Jedi when he grows up."

That was the reason she wanted to be a teacher. To be a good influence in these kids lives. This was her first year with a class of her own and whether or not she was succeeding, she had no idea.

Her grip on her glasses and the cloth tightened - not out of anger, but out of mortification and the wish that she could say more. She knew Amy was trying to be nice by mentioning one of her students, but all it did was cement what she already knew.

Amy still thought that she was talking to a regular girl. She thought Wren was delusional - that she'd relate to a boy who wanted to be a Jedi. Wren hadn't even been interested in superheroes before all of this happened. She had studied them extensively after the day she realized she had a power that couldn't be explained by the seventh grade science that she knew.

Jedis were fictional.

Superheroes weren't.

She grew still.

She could be right. A villain could be involved in this. It would be dangerous if the villain was watching, but it didn't feel like they were. This felt like something people were randomly brought into. Besides all being girls and women, there wasn't any other similarity in their group.

And if she was right, she had to convince Amy and Alaska that superheroes were real. Maybe she didn't need to reveal who The Actor really was, but the least she could do was show them her power.

She slipped her glasses back on and took a deep, shaky breath.

Then she stopped at the front of the group, turning around so she was looking at them all. She could feel her hands shaking when she balled them up into fists at her side; even digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands failed to help.

"I...I need to show you something," she said. "And I don't know how much you'll want to believe it. But I-I wasn't lying earlier - I know that the comics aren't real. Batman, Superman, Iron Man...They're all fictional. But what happens in the comics is real. And I...I can prove it. Because I...I..."

She took another deep breath.

"I have a superpower," she said. "I-I know you won't believe me until I show it to you, but I can shapeshift. I-I could do it since I was in seventh grade."

Hablex blinked. A superpower? Maybe this world was more similar to her own than she previously thought. She didn’t think that Wren was a person to mislead others, so she had to accept the girl’s words.

She herself had never witnessed one of the magickers before, but Malker had, and he talked himself hoarse about the sights he had seen. And so, what did it mean here, that Wren would speak of such an interesting power?

All Hablex could think was that the cause of her meeting the other girls was someone with magick. But the more childish part of her wanted to see Wren perform magic.

“Can we see?” She asked in a low voice.

''Alright, let's see your powers.'' Alaska murmured reluctantly, self-consciously smoothing her clothes. ''Can you copy me?'' she asked just a trace of vanity in her voice.

Amy watched as Wren explain that she could prove superpowers were real.

"Sure," Amy said. "Let's see it." She saw Wren's face was tight in a way it hadn't been before she'd mentioned Jadon. She was worried she'd overstepped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Earlier."

They had to be close to town by now. At least, she hoped.

"I can do that," she quietly said to Alaska. Then she turned - butterflies in her stomach - and gave Amy a small, hesitant smile. "And it's okay. I-I know how hard it is to believe if you're not used to it."

She took another deep breath and closed her eyes.

Wren was never sure how to describe her power. She never felt cold, or hot, or even mildly different in regards to the temperature. She never felt confused or incredibly focused. Her power just was. She knew that the change looked gentle and gradual to an outsider. But, to her, she just went from looking one way to another.

When she opened her eyes again, she was a little shorter than before. Her hair was a different shade and texture, and her outfit was identical to Alaska's. For a moment, it felt strange not wearing her glasses, but Wren quickly adjusted to the feeling. It wasn't like she wore them most of the time while shapeshifting, anyways.

"How did I do?" she asked, in a quiet, shy voice that was identical to Alaska's but also wasn't - Wren wasn't trying to imitate how she acted. She was just herself with a different appearance.

Alaska narrowed her eyes and examined Wren, then nodded.
''You did well enough.'' she assured her, though privately Alaska thought that not even Wren could match her natural beauty.

She'd.... actually done it. Amy stared at Wren with her mouth wide open. There had to be an explanation. Maybe this was some kind of weird fever dream.

"Um, how did you do that?" Instead of waiting for answer, she shook her head. "Never mind. A magician never reveals her secrets, right?" She'd have to ask her to turn into someone else. Maybe... Kurt Cobain. No, that would be way too weird. Maybe this girl was some sort of genius magician all this time and Amy had discounted her from the beginning.

"I was supposed to canvas for Bill Clinton over the weekend," she said. "Even if we do make it back, I guess this whole trip is an excuse to get out of it? I'm doing it more for my my friend than anything. I'm sorry if you all like Bill Clinton. I do too, I just don't really want to knock on people's doors."

Hablex glanced through the trees to where the group had realized a town must be. If no one else wanted to scout out ahead, she would gladly do so, but she also didn't want to have to speak in order to do it.

And so she stayed quiet after Wren's transformation, for though it did startle her, she figured that was what Malker was able to witness in their homeland as well. Hablex blew on her hands, placing her whiteboard carefully between her hip and an elbow.

Giving another shy smile, Wren let her body return to normal - glad to have proven what she had been adamant. She was still nervous about showing her power, but she was almost entirely sure none of the people present were even from her reality. It was alright to reveal her power, as long as she didn't reveal who she was.

She walked a little bit more down the path, only to stop when Amy's words registered. She was canvassing for Bill Clinton? He had served two terms, hadn't he? So why would she-

Her attention shifted to the building through the trees.

It was a cute log cabin. It was just the right size - not too big and not too small. Smoke curled out of its chimney, rising up above the snow-covered tree tops. The lights were on inside, but Wren had the feeling that no one was there.

She glanced down.

There weren't any footprints leading up to the steps. It gave her a bad feeling, but she tried to push it away. If there was no one here, there was nothing to be afraid of - a villain wouldn't be lurking in the shadows.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way up the steps and to the front door.

She knocked on the door. There wasn't any answer. But when she went to turn the doorknob, the door was unlocked - there was nothing stopping her from stepping inside.

So she did.

And immediately found herself looking at a cabin that was just as cozy and picturesque on the inside as it was on the outside. When she looked more closely, there was a wooden table with four chairs. Each chair had a mug of hot chocolate in front of it, as well as a plate of cookies. The mugs and cookies were all different.

Wren hesitated before approaching the table.

She knew which spot was hers. The cookies were her family's special ones: sugar cookies with an indent in the shape of a little bird. They had come up with them after she was born, and she had loved them since she was a kid. And the mug was hers, too - it was one that looked like a skull. It was almost identical to the one she had back home, but this one just felt different.

Wilson was busy digging through one of the drawers at the bottom of the island in the middle of the kitchen when she heard the front door open. Since the kitchen was open to the living room and front entrance, all she had to do was poke her head out from behind the island's granite top to see who'd arrived.

Was it Santa?

As she saw who opened the door, it was clear that it was not Santa. It was the girls from earlier. She was wondering when she'd see them again.

Wilson herself had gotten a little distracted when the other girls all met up. She kind of missed the whole... meeting up and introducing oneself to each other thing. She'd wandered around through the snow by herself until she saw the cabin from behind and broke into it from the back window. (Not that she needed to break in, but it was kind of fun pretending she had to. She liked the humanity of it.)

From the looks of it, the cabin seemed to be catered to the people plopped into this little winder wonderland world, because she'd found a fluffy giraffe onesie in just her size that she was currently wearing with pride. As she stood up from the kitchen she flipped the hood up in an attempt to look more disarming. The little antlers and ears on the stuffed giraffe hood flopped with the movement.

"Oh hello, ladies! Welcome. I made cookies! And hot chocolate!" she gestured with both arms to the area beside the living room, where there were cookies and drinks that she did not, in fact, make at all, but it wasn't like they would know that. She found them when she got there, but they sure looked homemade, and that was all that mattered.

Wren stiffened when she heard the voice. The house was supposed to be empty. She couldn't explain why she was so certain of that, but she just knew that something was off here. She glanced back at the table. Maybe it was because no one could have known how to make those cookies besides her family - when she took a hesitant bite out of them, they tasted exactly like the ones her mom and dad made.

A second later, she got her confirmation.

All it took was a blink. When Wren opened her eyes again, the table had grown just a little longer, and four chairs had become five. There was even another a plate and mug on the table. Wren's gaze returned to the woman in the giraffe onesie.

"...You didn't make them," Wren softly said, glancing between the table and her.