Why would anyone ask me to shut up? Talking is basically a hobby to me.
Yeah, that's how I ended up halfway up Mount Zeala, yapping away while Professor Wilbur, aka Mr. McBorington, kept throwing me death glares like I was interrupting a TED Talk instead of a school field trip.
Apparently, the mountain's sacred. Like, whisper-your-wish-and-the-mountain-makes-it-happen sacred.
I mean, come on. Do these people actually buy this crap? Real-life humans, standing around like extras in a fantasy flick, mumbling their dreams into the wind and expecting results?
Anyway.
This trip is supposed to be one of those magical senior year memories, something people cry about in yearbooks.
But seriously, why visit this place of all places in the universe?!
I hate nature. I didn't even want to come, but I didn't really have a choice.
And now we're here. In the middle of nowhere. Whispering to a mountain, just like the tour guide said. And insisted that it works.
Everyone looks like they're about to summon a god. I roll my eyes so hard I nearly see the inside of my skull.
Anyway, since we're already embracing the ridiculous...
Why not?
"Okay, Mountain," I whisper, mostly to amuse myself, "if you're listening, and I know you're not, why don't you get me a boyfriend. A hot one."
I chuckle, tossing the words into the air like they mean nothing.
"But seriously, mountain, why don't you make me something cool? I dunno… one of those immortal beings. Maybe a werewolf. One of those crazy, unhinged ones from the movies and fantasy novels. Go big or go home, right?"
This time the moment I finish speaking, the air feels still and heavy, like smoke that doesn't rise. Sharp and sudden, brushes my skin like a hand. I'm wearing a hoodie, but still I can feel it brush my skin.
I laugh it off. Probably just weather. Right?
I glance around. No one's paying attention.
~Professor Wilbur claps his hands. "Alright everyone, this is the last site we visit. We're heading back! Come on, let's move!"
Thank God.
"Praise Jesus," I mutter loudly, unable to stop myself from sighing. "Can we finally leave this cult ceremony?" My classmates laugh. I didn't mean to entertain, though.
"Zane Sanderson!" Professor Wilbur snaps like he's been waiting his whole life to scold someone. "Another word and I'm leaving you in this place! And don't think I've forgotten your growing file of detentions!"
"What? I didn't even do anything!" I protest. The laughter doubles.
Jade, who's been stuck in the "friend" category since middle school, grins. "You're totally getting roasted alive this time."
"Once I'm done being roasted... you won't help wanting a taste of me." An exaggerated 'ew' follow before she jogs ahead.
She turns halfway up the trail and calls back, "That's so gross! Anyway, what did you wish for?"
"Oh please, spare me the Disney magic," I say, waving her off and climbing into the Crystal Bay High bus like it's a lifeboat.
The ride back is quiet. I try to sleep, if only to avoid earning myself yet another detention.
But no sleep comes. There's this buzzing in my brain_ low, electric, like a radio just out of tune. And then, just before my eyes close, I think I hear my name whispered. Except no one says it again.
I snap my eyes open. Everyone else is asleep or scrolling. No one's looking at me.
I swallow. Shrug it off.
After hours, we pull into the school parking lot just as the sun starts dipping behind the hills. People are jumping off the bus, running to their parents, laughing, hugging.
I don't bother looking.
My dad's probably out there breaking his back just to make sure I can stay in school and we've got something, anything, to eat.
And my mom? Oh, she's most likely lounging on the chest of her second husband.
You know, the rich one. Because apparently, struggle was never her thing. And marrying a poor man and having a child with him? Total mistake. Not my words... she made that crystal clear herself.
I walk past the crowd, the cars, bag slung over my shoulder, hoodie up.
The walk home is uneventful. Busy streets, as always. Same parked cars. Same crooked mailbox three houses down.
When I open the front door, the smell of burnt garlic hits me. Yay. Dad's home, and cooking.
"Hey, Mr. Sanderson," I call, dropping my bag on the floor with a thud.
"Zane? I didn't know you guys would be back this early." He pokes his head out from the kitchen.
"What? Expecting someone?" I joke. And every time I throw a joke like that at him, he pulls my ears.
"I'll deal with you later. I won't entertain disrespect in this house!" he says stepping back.
I scoff, walking into the kitchen. "Smells... interesting."
He holds up a ladle like it's a trophy. "Pasta. Again. I know. But this time, I added mushrooms!"
We sit and eat.
Then he asks, "So, how was the trip? And no complaints, praise something for once?"
I shrug. "I would if something was cool. Anyway, nothing was interesting about the trip except for the number of detentions I got for doing totally nothing wrong."
He laughs. "That must be the opposite. You got detention for doing everything wrong."
I groan, "Worst part? There's this whole thing about making wishes on the mountain. The tour guide was like, 'It holds sacred power, your wishes will come true, I've experienced that myself' and I'm like… is he for real?!"
He laughs again, probably because I mimicked the tour guide. "So what did you wish for? A hot boyfriend_ the one you always dream of?"
I roll my eyes.
"Didn't waste my time... Just made fun about wanting to be immortal," I say, not really caring.
He laughs even harder, handing me more garlic bread. "Maybe the mountain took you seriously."
"Yeah," I mutter sarcastically. "Maybe."
After we're done, I toss our empty plates in the sink and mumble something about heading to bed.
I drag myself up the stairs, ignoring the groan in my knees and the ache in my shoulders. Weird. I'm not even old.
When I get to my room, I kick off my shoes and immediately crawl under the blankets, letting out a long, slow breath.
Finally.
Sleep.
Except...
The moment I close my eyes, it feels like something yanks me away, like I'm free-falling into a deep, endless void.
I hit the ground hard. Bones rattle. Teeth bite dirt. Behind me-- shadows, chasing, snarling, getting closer. I run before I even think to run.
I don't dare look back.
Trees blur past. My legs burn. My chest heaves.
As the footsteps draw closer, I can't help but look back. My eyes manage to catch glimpses-- so many figures, with heightened ears and glowing eyes, their faces hauntingly clear.
My legs give out, and I collapse to the ground.
Just as they reach me… I scream--
and jolt upright in my bed, drenched in sweat.
The world feels tilted, off, wrong, like gravity shifted sideways. My stomach lurches with it.
I don't feel the same.
My hand shakes when I push the covers off. My eyes flick around, only to realize I can see everything, even with the lights off.
The corners. The floor. My desk. The outline of my shoes. Clear as day.
Even so, I switch on the lights. My fingertips throb with pain, and when I look at them, they're stained with blood.
Deep gashes like claw marks, run across my palm.
My mind spins, struggling to make sense of what's happening.