The low fire of a candle was crackling beside me, changing shapes and positions every second.
This was the same candle that had gone out too early when I was sprawled in bed, reading my
favorite book. I don’t remember re-lighting it, but I must have if it’s crackling now. I stared at
the off-white wax dripping down the sides of the candle, like little seeds escaping the fire.
Slowly, the fire breathed its last breath. The wick of the candle collapsed, and the light
went out. I felt a light cold air run past me as my eyelids fell. Suddenly, a bright light flickered
through the darkness, causing my eyes to flutter open.
I awakened to a deep red flame emerging from the candle.
How could the candle re-light if it had just flickered out seconds before ? I felt my body
go warm with worry and confusion, my head spinning. I felt hot.
Far too hot.
My vision blurred as the small fire kindled on the candle expanded rapidly, slowly
consuming the candle itself. The awakening flames spread across the room, like a starving beast.
The emerging fire crackled loudly, surrounding me, I could smell the smoke through my
lungs. I could feel the piercing flames burn my skin until it felt like it was all gone, only my
rough white bones remaining.
Through the red and orange, I saw a faint white light shining in the distance. It glowed in
hues of blue and white, as if calling to me. I used the rest of my strength to crawl towards it,
making my way to what would be the front porch. I felt the fire slowly dying, only the original
light flame remaining, floating in the empty space.
The white light was now bright enough I could feel it reflecting off my eyes. I held out
my hands to hold it.
Only to find the light gone. The shimmering ball of radiance now faded into mist.

Suddenly, a blast of icy air filled the room, and everything went cold. I immediately checked my
body for burns or scars, but miraculously, I was unscathed.
I looked around, searching for any signs of a fire, but everything was in perfect condition. The
wick of the candle was wilted and the wax stone cold. Confused and conflicted, I sighed a heavy
breath, placing my hand on my chest as the heavy silence engulfed me.

“Wake up sleepyhead!”
My eyes fluttered open and sunlight shone down on me like a halo. My older sister was
standing at my bedroom door, her perfect smile greeting me.
I yawned tiredly, stretching my arms out as my back let out a satisfying pop. My sister let
out a light chuckle, and closed the door.
“Come down quickly, breakfast’s getting cold.” she said from the other side, the sound of
her voice fading with her footsteps.
I sighed, not wanting to move from the embrace of my blanket. I forced myself up,
knowing that my sister would probably come storming if I didn’t.
“Hi sis,” I stumbled towards the kitchen, still drugged with sleepiness.
“Finally!” she exclaimed, “I was about to check if you’d fallen asleep again!” She was
dressed in a tight black skirt and a black and red blazer. Silky black Mary Janes hugged her feet,
and her dark red bag hung on her shoulder. For the 11 years I’d known her, my older sister had
worn this outfit –I was convinced she’d never worn anything else.
“Peter!” She called for my older brother, and he came running from his room. My brother
looked just as polished, in a business suit and freshly waxed shoes.

Standing side to side, they looked like the perfect family. Perfect. Perfection was a
lifestyle. Perfectly smooth clothes, perfectly made bed, perfectly beautiful decor.
“Morning, Syria,” he said, and I swear I saw him grimace slightly.“Are we ready to go?”
My sister responded with a nod, and opened the door with one smooth movement.
“Remember to stay in the house!” My brother said and he stepped out the door,
“Bye Sage!”
I heard the jingle of keys as the door slammed shut, followed by the click of the door
locking.
Remember to stay in the house.
Those were the words I heard from my siblings everyday before they left for work.
I recalled a vivid memory from a few years ago, after they left. I pushed open the door,
and stepped into the wonderful green fields resting outside our house. Only a few steps in, I
remember seeing deep red and orange, before the world went dark.
I shivered, recalling waking up in my room, the smell of ash lingering in the air. My
siblings were by my side, both worriedly examining me. The next day–and everyday after that,
the front door was locked.

θৎ

I watched my siblings walk across the healthy green field until they disappeared into the
distance. I sighed as my hand reached for my diary out of the lowest drawer of the cabinet. I
quickly skimmed the entry before it, until my eyes noticed the odd handwriting. Swirly Gs,
cursive Fs, and far too close letter spacing.

I flipped the entry before that. It was my handwriting, the wide spacing, big letters, in the
navy pen I always used. Hesitantly, I flipped back to the page with the unfamiliar handwriting.
There were a million questions in my head. Questions I didn’t know the answer to.
Questions waiting to be solved. Who wrote the entry? Why was it in my diary? My gaze fell on
the entry, and it read ;

I felt nauseous, and my face felt hot. How had she lived her whole life like this? I
remember the white light watching over me. This is the day she figures out the truth;;my
siblings aren’t who I thought them to be.

There was a line of odd grotesque symbols, and the rest of the page was burned off. With
quivering hands, I flipped to the next page–and I swear when I first opened it it was blank. Now,
a singular word was stretched across the page.
RUN.
My breath stopped entirely.
My eyes flickered to the doorknob for a second too long. I remembered the last time I had
defied my siblings and stepped outside. The bursting deep red, orange and yellow came back to
me all too clearly.
I knew what I was supposed to do–listen to my siblings and stay inside.
I stared out the window into the vast fields of lush green, and my eyes flickered back to
the letter. Run. It told me.
But– I argued.

Run.
My hand grasped the doorknob, and I tried opening the door– but it was locked.
Run.
I grabbed the diary, and tried opening the door again,
Click. The door swung open rapidly, as if the lock had disappeared.
The overwhelming scent of fresh morning air filled my lungs, yet I could sense
something off about it, almost like…
Smoke.
Shades of gray flashed in front of my eyes, carrying an oddly familiar scent in the air.
Suddenly, I realized where I had seen that smoke before.
The dream of the fire.
Until then, I had forgotten about the fire of last night–I had just convinced myself it was
a dream. But when rushes of heat flew into my head the same way it did last night, I knew it
wasn’t just a dream. What if it was–
A vision.
For a second, I thought the raging wildfire would return once more–I was almost certain
the moment I felt heat return to my face.
Suddenly, a cold rush of air flew past me, the same way it did before. I looked up to find
the bright white light shining in front of me, as if it had never left. Although, I noticed the light
was spinning in consecutive circles–almost as if it was directly calling for me, chanting my
name.
Sage, Sage, Sage.

My feet started moving on their own, and I found the bright light approaching me–or
rather, I was approaching it. The bright light bounced around, as if showing gratitude for my
steps. When I finally stopped in front of it, the light moved forward.
I ran after it, and something in its mysterious but warm glow told me that it was
connected to the strange diary entry. My footsteps trailed after the light, like the three wise men
following the star to Bethelhem.
After passing through thickets and wood, all of which I had never realized existed, the
light finally stopped in front of a giant mountain.
It was towering over me commanding dominance with an overlooking shadow. It had a
presence of someone who didn’t think but knew they were important. Strangely enough,
something was different about this mountain in specific–like if it toppled down, the world would
follow.