Young Writers Society

James saw someone come out from the back porch. He couldn't tell who it was from the distance. He only knew that he saw movement.

"This is where I grew up," he said. "For a time."

He looked down at his clothes. He was back in his normal clothes, and the modern ones were gone. Maybe he wouldn't get different ones this time. That would feel right, he thought. He didn't think he could imagine anything different.

When he looked back up, there was a figure running towards them, up the hill. It was his little sister, all grown up. The last time he'd seen her, she would've barely gone past his knees. Now she was about his height, and he could see himself in her, but she looked far healthier and happier. Her long brown hair was tied back in a braid and she wore a loose plaid shirt under a baggy pair of overalls. The way she was looking at him made his heart sink into his chest.

She was smiling so wide, with no hint of malice. She was happy to see him.

As she kept running it became clear, the closer she got, that she wasn't going to slow down. James still found himself frozen, but as Larrel ran right for him she laughed.

He braced himself.

When she collided with him she wrapped her arms around him tight and they flew into the grass. James hit the ground first, and let out a grunt as the wind got knocked out of him, and Larrel kept laughing.

"You came back! You came back!" she cheered, getting back to her feet and offering him a hand to help him back up. When he took it she pulled him to his feet and immediately wrapped him in another hug.

James wasn't sure if he was present in that moment. A flood of emotion pushed at the walls in his mind and his heart, and he pushed back.

This wasn't real. This wasn't real. He wasn't going to cry, but as Larrel squeezed the life out of him, he found it very hard not to.

This wasn't a glimpse into the past. This fantasy was like a rewriting of history - where his family got their farm back, undisturbed by the goblin wars. Where his sister welcomed him back with open arms as if she'd never been told he was dead in the first place.

He swallowed the knot in his throat and forced a smile.

Finally, he hugged Larrel back. Once, tightly, just so he could imagine what it might be like if this were real, and then he pulled away and looked to Jay and Adam.

"Larrel. I'd like you to meet my friends," he said. They weren't his friends. They were hardly even acquaintances, but he thought it would be easier to welcome them into the story than to wait for them to do it themselves.

Instantly, he saw their clothes change into those of simple travelers, with sacks on their backs.

Larrel looked to Adam and Jay.

"Oh!" she laughed. James plucked a piece of grass out of her hair without her noticing. "Hello, It's nice to meet you," she said. "What are your names?"

Adam didn't know if he was going to be able to get used to the constant clothes changing, because he looked down and saw he was in a simple, loose fitting shirt. Long brown pants with suspenders. A black cowboy hat. And boots. His father was in a buckskin suit from head to toe.

They both carried sacks. They were heavy, and Adam wondered what was inside.

"I'm Adam, and this is my brother, Jay."

Oh, so we're brothers now? Jay thought. You didn't want to go with that from the beginning? I think that would have been more believable. He looked ridiculous in the buck sin suit, and he could tell Adam thought so too.

"Pleasure to meet you," Jay said, extended his hand.

Adam carefully considered his next words. If they were this far back, the culture was different. Jay probably knew it too, which he supposed was part of the reason he wasn't trying anything, even though the girl was young and pretty. His father was thick, but he wasn't dumb.

Also, if things were going at the rate they had been, sooner or later this would all fall away.

For the first few moments that followed Kira's fantasy falling about and being replaced by a new one, all Kira did was stand as still as she could. She was standing in a study that Zanne might have created - it reminded her of one of the rooms she had seen the last time she had collected a partial's soul. That partial had been wealthy; whoever owned this study must have been, too.

She followed Queenie and the boy over to the photo. James, Jay and Adam were all gone. She tried to ignore the pit in her stomach - and the magic itching at her fingertips - as she glanced at the photo that Queenie had just put down.

It was a happy family photograph.

Maybe, just maybe, Queenie's fantasy was to become wealthy. But the longer she looked at the photo, the more she doubted the first assumption. From the way Queenie's gaze lingered on the photograph, it seemed like it was the thing that had changed - she hadn't seemed startled by the layout of the room.

Kira looked away from the photograph.

Her gaze traveled to Queenie and her brother - who, Kira realized, might not have actually been her brother.

"You're not actually related, are you?" she asked, finally finding her voice.

Queenie glanced at Bobby, who was wearing the answer to Kira's question on his face like that big ugly bruise he'd gotten the other week. She gave a small roll of her eyes and turned back to Kira, "No, we're not," she said, "I just look after him sometimes. Saying we were related was easier than explaining the whole fucked up situation."

Bobby's gaze was flitting about the room, curiosity mixing with paranoia on his face.

Why can't that kid keep any of his emotions to himself?

James could see Larrel was withholding a smile at Jay's tacky outfit. James didn't know if Jay willfully chose these outfits or if the mechanisms of this dream-world thrust it upon him. Either way, it was unfortunate.

Larrel shook Jay's hand once, firmly, and pulled away. "You guys must be from the north. You're probably hungry after all your traveling. I can go ask mom what we've got lying around," she said, grabbing James's hand as she began to lead them down the hill.

James looked back at Adam and Jay, nodding at them to follow.

Larrel kept up the pace as she headed back to the house. He could tell she was excited to have him here and to have him back, but it felt wrong that the reasons for him being gone in the first place weren't being addressed. Though, he couldn't help but admit that it was nice to pretend, for a moment, that none of it had happened.

His heart was starting to race as they walked up to the porch. His mother stepped out with a smile, and just like Larrel, she'd aged. Her auburn hair had grown to her shoulders and was now spotted with white. She'd lost a little weight but still looked healthy. She wore her mother's necklace that she should've sold years ago when they were desperate for money. It was a sad little detail.

Larrel let go of James's hand as his mother came forward to hug him, kissing him on the cheek and pulling away with his face between her hands. She looked intently up into his face with a smile, but her smile started to fade and he saw pity in her eyes.

"James, what happened? Is something wrong?"

James slowly pulled his mothers' hands away from his face, but she reached back up to brush a little scar on his temple.

"I'm fine, mom," he said. For a moment, he'd forgotten he wasn't actually talking to his mom. This wasn't real.

His mother looked at him and sighed, shaking her head. "Okay. Let's get you and your friends some food."

She looked over at Adam and Jay.

"You boys like fresh fruit?"

Kira gave a little nod.

She could understand that. She didn't even know how she would have described her relationship with Rex - he was like an older brother figure, a friend, and a father figure all rolled into one.

(If Kira had been a little more aware of normal family roles, or had actually had a grandfather before, she might have added that Rex occupied that role a little, too.)

She caught the boy's gaze wandering around the room, a nervous and curious expression on his face. She doubted she was the reason for it, but she still tried to give him a warm smile.

Bobby scanned the room. Was this the study? If it was, he had to get out. He had to get out now.

He glanced up to see Kira giving him a smile. He didn't really find it comforting, not here. Not in a room like this. He had to leave.

"I love fresh fruit," Adam said to the girl.

Meanwhile, Jay shifted. He was uncomfortable in the clothes, and hoped he would get an opportunity to change them soon.

Who knew how long this vision would last.

James's mother smiled and nodded. "Alright, how 'bout you boys wait out here while I go grab some of the peaches we picked from the peach tree this morning." She turned to the doorway and paused, turning back.

"Oh, I'm Jane by the way. But you can call me Mrs. Hawke."

With one last small smile, she went back inside, leaving James out on the porch with the two men who he still called strangers. Larrel was with them for a moment before she ran in and came out carrying a stack of three chairs with a big grin on her face. When she set them down James helped line the chairs up on the porch so everyone could sit. James did notice though, that she'd only gotten three. The rocking chair on the porch was probably supposed to serve as the fourth because that would make sense. He just had a lot of memories attached to it that he didn't want to think about.

He didn't sit down.

His mother came out with a bowl of fresh peaches and set it on a small table that brought over between two of the chair for convenience. James wasn't sure how long his family's hospitality would last before things went sour.

That was when the door opened again, and someone else stepped out onto the porch.

It looked like his father Allen, but if his father had lived beyond his 30's. And yet, he still had the same beard, the same long hair, and the same calm, kind expression. The moment James and him locked eyes James froze.

He stared. His father's face lit up with a smile and James had to remind himself this wasn't real. It couldn't be real. His father was dead.

James closed his eyes, turned around, and began to walk out into the fields without a word.

"James?" he heard his father and mother say in near-unison.

"Son?" his father said again.

His father's voice still sounded the same. He'd thought he'd forgotten it. It'd been over ten years since he'd heard it.

James started walking faster. He wanted this to be over.

He could hear someone running after him, but he didn't turn around. A hand touched his shoulder and he pulled away. His eyes were stinging but he blinked back the tears.

"Leave me alone," he spoke harshly. His father didn't listen. His father grabbed his shoulder this time but without relenting his grip. James found himself turned around and suddenly in the arms of his father.

He was looking back at the house, watching his mother and sister look on with concern painted on their faces.

His father hugged him tightly, and James hated it. He didn't hug back.

"I thought you'd never come home," Allen whispered. It sounded like his dad was on the verge of tears. "I thought you were dead."

James's throat tightened up but he swallowed.

"You're not real," James said. "And this stupid dream is just going to make me lose you again. I already know it."

Allen pulled away.

"James, what are you talking about? You're home. I thought I'd never see you again."

He didn't think he could do this; holding it all together. But in spite of whoever had put this all together, he had to.

"Yeah, well, me too," James replied bitterly. "This is worse. Seeing you again."

That was not the right thing to say. His father looked hurt. Really hurt.

"James, you don't mean that."

James stared at his father. In just a few seconds, it was like all of his emotions were tucked away neatly into little folders and locked away in a safe, inaccessible. The knot in his throat loosened, and his eyes were drying. Allen still looked heartbroken, but all James could think about was how to leave.

"You still have the mirror in the bedroom, right?" he asked.

Allen blinked, his eyes misty. "What?"

James didn't ask again, and instead marched past his father and back to the house. Allen didn't follow as quickly this time, but that was fine. Larrel and Jane were looking at him with enough unsaid questions. He didn't need more.

But, instead of answering any of them, he looked to Adam and Jay.

"Follow me." He opened the door and let it hang open behind him.

Kira knew it was Queenie's fantasy, but she couldn't help but feel more concerned by the boy's reaction to it. She glanced over in Queenie's direction to check on her before moving a little closer to the boy. She didn't want to get too close; she could remember a time where she was that shy around other people. Intruding in her personal space back then had been a major no. Even now, she rarely let other people do it.

"What's wrong?" she softly asked him. "You look nervous."

Bobby opened his mouth to reply, already shaking his head, when the door opened.

Queenie's fingers closed around a pen on the desk as she leaned casually back against it, effortless hiding the fact that she was wound up tighter than a spring.

The face that poked through looked like Briar, maybe. If Briar had a twin who knew what smiling was, this might be them. Though no one who knew what joy was would still wear that plain white button-up and those black slacks every single day without fail.

"Dad says it's time for dinner," said Briar's voice out of Briar's mouth, but there was no connection between those words, that phrasing, and the person Queenie had grown up dreading.

Queenie faked a smile, playing along. "I'll be right down."

"I'll tell the staff to set an extra place," Briar said, about to leave.

"Two extra places," Queenie said. Kira was not going to get to float by all ghostlike in this bizzaro world where Briar smiled not just for a camera, but also in person for no apparent specific reason. With a gesture, Queenie changed Kira's outfit to something a bit more period-appropriate though, unlike Bobby's, Kira's clothes fit the lavish surroundings quite perfectly.

Briar blinked in surprise at the second person in the room. Finally miss something for once in your life? How's it feel, bitch?

"Two places," Briar corrected, then vanished.

Adam followed James' lead and Jay followed close behind him, into the house. The Old West had a quiet to it that Adam could rarely find in the city. He felt like he was a fly on a wall in something that he shouldn't see, and he didn't want to be here anymore.

Before they entered, Jay took a look back at the field. It was quiet. Peaceful. He was nervous about what was going to happen next.

James marched to the bedroom. The house was still the same - each hallway, each room. Even the decorations hadn't changed, which felt wrong. If his family had aged, things would've changed.

It wasn't a large house. He went down the hall and to the left, entering a simple bedroom with a queen bed that belonged to his parents. In the corner of the room was a standing mirror with a jacket hanging over it, obscuring most of it.

He walked over and threw the jacket onto the bed.

He wasn't going to wait for this dream to turn wrong.

"Jay. You haven't gone yet," he said, looking in the mirror for a moment. He only saw himself. No visions, no memories. "See if it acts like the mirrors in the room," he said. "I'm done here."

Before James could turn the mirror over to Jay, Larrel pushed herself into the room.

"James! What did you say to him? What are you doing?"

James looked over at her and his eyebrows pinched together.

"I'm leaving," he said, and the look she gave him made him feel so small.

For just a moment, he saw her as the six-year-old back in the barn, watching him hop up on their family's only horse with a few things thrown together in a sack. Underprepared, and scared. Running away. He never expected her to forgive him for that, and he'd never forgiven himself.

"...Again," Larrel said quietly.

James wished he was a braver man. Then he might've been able to look Larrel in the eyes and tell her yes. He was. But did it matter? Did it matter if she wasn't real? That seemed a cruel question to ask.

He flipped the mirror so it was facing Jay. He couldn't find the strength to say the words he wanted to.

I'm sorry.

Jay took a deep breath. He barely had time to consider the consequences of looking into the mirror before he saw a brilliant night sky. Illuminated by the night were the faint outlines of canyons and desert. He saw two sleeping bags. A woman with long, wavy blonde hair and wide blue eyes. She knelt over a boy with dark hair and appeared to be reading a book.

No no no no no no no. Not here.

Still, Jay knew he had no choice but to touch the glass. He sighed, and weakly did so.
The next thing they knew, they were in the desert. Jay smelt the aftermath of a campfire and heard cicadas in the background.

They were on a dirt path, and appeared to be some kind of campsite. Jay's mother Anna was who they had seen. And the boy he was with was him. He had to be eight years old here.

He gestured for Adam and James to stay back. His heart was pounding. He knew if he walked right up to Anna, he'd scare her. So he had to think of a story.

He watched his mother from behind a tree.

"A heart is not judged by how much you love, but how much you are loved by others," Anna read. Then, she closed the book. "That's all for tonight," she said. "We can finish tomorrow."

"One more chapter," little Jay pleaded.

"Mommy's tired," Anna replied, "and we have a big day tomorrow." Then she kissed his forehead. "How much do I love you?"

Jay continued to watch from behind the tree. He knew where this was going. It was their routine, and it felt wrong for anyone to see this.

"Is it this much?" Anna said, placing her arms out, and her hands a few inches from each other.

Little Jay shook his head.

"Is it this much?" She asked, separating her hands a little more.

Little Jay still shook his head.

This continued until her arms were wide to wrap him in a hug. She kissed his forehead again. "Sleep tight, sweetheart," he said. "I'll be right back."

It's not real. It's not real. It's not real, adult Jay thought to himself. He swallowed as he heard his mother approaching.

She stopped when she saw him. "Oh, you scared me," Anna said.

For a moment, Jay forgot how to speak the English language. "Excuse me, m'am," he said. "We're out of firewood and we were wondering if we could borrow some." Once he did, his clothes changed. Dark brown pants. A fleece button-down. A flat cap. He carried a lantern.

"I think they have more at the general store up the road," Anna replied. "But they won't be open until the morning."

Just then, Anna noticed James and Adam, and their clothes changed too. "Are you with them?"

Jay looked back at nodded. "These are my brothers, Adam and James."

"I'm just going to the bathroom," she said. "Wait here. And let's keep our voices down, my son's sleeping."

Anna hesitated as she walked off. He's not sleeping, Jay thought. He could tell Anna distrusted them, but he had to make her. He had to.

The fact that none of it was real, and that it would end soon, didn't cross his mind. He couldn't allow it to.

James closed his eyes, and when he opened them, they were in a desert. It didn't take long to figure out that the woman with the child had to be Jay and his mother. It almost seemed fitting, that the scene was similar to Adam's - both of them wished for their childhoods to be different. He assumed that meant they'd come to be at peace with their present or found some happiness in it.

He wondered what that would feel like, but he didn't wonder for that long.

Soon enough, his clothes were changed into something that resembled Jay's, and he was introduced to Jay's mother. He could care less about being associated with Adam and Jay as family, but he didn't feel like he looked it. Then again, that didn't really matter.

James looked at Jay when the woman walked off. He was going to follow his lead.