Young Writers Society

Finnley waited outside Mia’s house early that day. He was worried after the phone call from the night before. Mia bounced out of the house, nearly as spunky as always. Finnley stared her down, though. He wasn't going to let her get away with brushing off serious issues.

“Hey,” he said, catching her by the shoulder. “Are you okay after last night? I know the nightmare was really bad…”

“I'm fine,” Mia insisted, squeezing Finnley’s hand. “It's just a dream, right?”

“Right.” He didn't tell her about the strange force; it would only worry her more.

“Well then,” Mia said with a smile. “Race you to the school!”

“What! More running?” But Mia was already pounding down the sidewalk. It was good to see her running, it meant that something was right. Finnley trailed behind slowly, and when he rounded the corner, he saw that she hadn't waited up for him. She was still running towards the school. He sighed. It's probably doing her good.

Finnley wasn't entirely sure if he believed Mia, but he didn't get a chance to question her that day. Monica popped into school as she promised, and discussions between the three of them were kept to a meaningless chatter. Not meaningless, Finnley corrected himself, just irrelevant to the important matters at hand. Still, Finnley was determined to do something. He wasn't about to give up any time soon.

After school, he walked decisively to Mr. Vaughn’s ready to spill everything about the force, about letting go of the spell. But when he got to the shop, it was the young man, Henry, at the desk.

“Where's Mr. Vaughn?” Finnley asked, though it may have sounded more like a demand.

“Sorry I'm not the one you were looking for,” Henry replied with a light smile. Finnley didn't return the smile, and Henry sighed. “Mr. Vaughn’s sister asked him to do something for her. They're working together on something, apparently rather urgent. He left me here to manage the store, told me you might come in. I think he left some practice for you…”

Despite his curiosity about magic, Finnley wasn't interested in workbook lessons right now. Irritated, he asked, “Is there any way you can get a message to him? It's important.”

“I can try,” the older boy said, his smile finally fading away. “What is it? Maybe I can help.”

Finnley opened his book to the page with the sleeping spell. “I laid this spell several days ago, on the pillow of my friend. She's been having nightmares,” he explained. He went on to describe the mysterious force that he had felt twice now, and what had happened.

Henry leaned forward in concern. “That's not good.” Stating the obvious, Finnley thought, but he wouldn't say it out loud. “The force itself… it’s not exactly uncommon. It means something is trying to break through the spell.”

Finnley frowned. “You mean the nightmare itself? The bad dreams have a presence?”

“Not exactly.” Henry rubbed a hand across his chin, staring up at the ceiling in thought. “It's like this: if you put a spell against rain on a jacket, then rain would roll off. That's the normal way a spell works. The rain itself is not trying to break through the spell. No, your strange force means there's something sentient trying to tamper with the spell, to cut it off.”

Finnley felt as if the room was sliding out from under his feet and sat down heavily across from Henry. The chair cushion let out a small puff of air in protest. “I don't understand. Why would someone want to break that spell? Why target Mia?”

Henry shook his head. “I don't know. Those are questions for Mr. Vaughn—you're right to have come looking for him. I'll do what I can to reach him, and at the latest he’ll be back next week.”

“I can stand the wait, but I'm not sure she can.” Finnley tried to push down the fear that was threatening to break through his calm appearance. He only wanted to help Mia. “I'm worried about her. She's so terrified of this recurring nightmare… I'm not sure she’s going to sleep.”

Henry looked just as helpless as Finnley felt. “I don't know, Finnley. Magic would be my solution, but in a situation where that won't work… keep a close eye on her. Make sure she doesn't push herself too hard, that she knows her own limits. Help to calm her fear.”

“Thanks.” Finnley was surprised to find that his thanks was genuine. The advice hadn't been much, but the visit had comforted him nevertheless. Henry was watching out for him, and somehow that thought made him feel better, despite the man’s lack of experience compared to Mr. Vaughn.

“Good luck,” Henry said, and Finnley could read the sincerity in his eyes. “Let me know if anything changes, okay? I'll be here.”

Finnley shouldered his backpack and left the shop, the bell above the door ringing dully. If it weren't for Henry’s advice about watching Mia closely, he wouldn't have noticed the changes over the next few days.

He was fairly sure he spotted dark circles under her eyes, and that they were deepening. Her usually sharp and attentive brown eyes seemed to glaze over in classes Finnley knew she adored. And most of all, Mia no longer ran like her life depended on it in gym. Her enthusiasm for the sports they played guttered like a flame, then died.

When Finnley tried to approach her about it, she shrugged him off. He even asked Monica if she couldn't just check in on Mia that night and see if she was sleeping.

“You're asking me to be a spy,” Monica had replied indignantly, folding her arms over a ruffled yellow scarf. “You're asking me to spy on my closest friend because I'm a ghost.”

“Well… yeah,” Finnley had replied. That was essentially what it was, but both of them knew that he was right to be so concerned about Mia.

Monica had sniffed and walked off, but came back the next day with a report: Monica had peeked in on Mia several times during the night, and Mia had not been sleeping once. She had sat on the floor, bedside lamp on and a pitcher of water close at hand. Neither Finnley nor Monica could make any sense of it.

Still, Mr. Vaughn was away. There was nothing that they could do besides give Mia their full support. They thought they were keeping things together until a note showed up in Finnley’s locker at school, and Mia didn't show up at all.