Shared Silence
Sky felt it the moment he fell asleep.
Not like drifting off.
Like crossing over.
Like a switch being flipped.
One blink—and he was in the forest.
Not a forest from this world. One made of shadows and memory. Trees taller than logic. Leaves that whispered when they moved.
Beside him, Lumen stood—already there.
She didn't look confused.
She just looked at him.
They didn't speak.
They didn't need to.
Their breaths matched. Their feet moved in sync.
The forest shimmered, unreal and too real at once. The branches above shifted like the ribs of a sleeping beast. Ahead, the mirror floated—fractured this time, suspended in the air like shattered ice.
Each shard reflected a different version of the forest.
Lumen stepped forward.
Sky followed.
Still no words.
Just presence. Just understanding.
As they neared, the shards began to flicker.
Images:
A girl screaming in an attic, fists red with blood.
A ring of children chanting around a candlelit circle.
A house with a hundred windows—none looking out.
A wall pulsing like a heartbeat.
Sky whispered, "These… these aren't ours."
Lumen nodded. "Not yet."
They stepped into the center crack.
The world on the other side felt older.
The light was golden, dusty. The air smelled of pine and smoke.
A cabin sat at the heart of this memory. Not ruined. Not cursed.
Whole.
From within: children's laughter. Wooden floorboards. The clatter of spoons on metal bowls.
Sky hesitated. "Is this real?"
Lumen's eyes scanned the treetops. "It was. Once."
He tilted his head toward the door. "This is where it started."
"You've been here?"
Lumen's voice dropped. "No. But it's been… pulling me. Since I was small. Like it wants to finish something I never started."
They walked in together.
The children inside sat at a wide table, carving names into a wooden board.
Sky leaned closer.
One name stood out: Mary.
And beside it—
Nori. Max. Jess. Eli.
Lumen reached out, fingers brushing the board—
CRACK
The room shattered into mirrors.
Children blurred. Candles died. The warm cabin melted into a house of endless glass and whispering reflections.
Sky gasped. He was falling—
But Lumen caught his hand.
"I've got you," he said.
Sky clung to him.
The mirrors screamed—
And shattered.
They both woke—miles apart, but at the same second. Gasping.
Sky sat up, heart racing.
The shard was back on his desk.
And now—it had a crack.
Later that day, they met outside school. Beneath the trees.
No explanation. No recap. Just silence.
Lumen looked tired. But his smile was real.
"You're not just dreaming with me," he said. "You're dreaming through me. We're connected now."
Sky nodded. "Good. Then we figure this out. Together."
Lumen looked down, thumb fidgeting against his sleeve. "You're the first person I've told. And you didn't run."
Sky gave a weak grin. "Not yet."
They both laughed.
Not because it was funny.
But because it meant they weren't alone.
And in the silence that followed, neither of them said what they both felt:
Something is coming.
And it knows their names.