The morning sun streamed through my curtains, but it did nothing to chase away the heaviness pressing on my chest. I sat at the edge of my bed, staring at the faint glow of the mark on my arm. It had dimmed since the night before, but it was still there—etched into my skin like a secret I wasn't supposed to know.
I should've felt excited. Eighteen was supposed to mean freedom, adulthood, a fresh start. Instead, I felt… hollow. The same emptiness I'd carried for years gnawed at me, heavier than ever. Some days it was just a shadow in the corner of my mind. Other days, like today, it was a storm cloud that refused to move.
I'd always been good at hiding it. Smiling when I had to. Laughing at Abi's jokes. Pretending the weight in my chest wasn't growing heavier by the year. But now, with this mark glowing on my skin and the memory of that dream still clinging to me, I felt like something inside me had cracked open.
My phone buzzed.
Abi: Morning, birthday girl. Did the moon eat you alive or what? You didn't call me back.
I hesitated before replying. I had a nightmare. Weirdest one yet.
Seconds later, my phone lit up with an incoming call.
"Tell me everything," Abi demanded the moment I answered. Her voice was sharp, but beneath it was worry.
I swallowed. "It was… different this time. There was a man. He had these blue lashes, like glowing threads, and eyes that—" I shivered. "They didn't look human. He said I was his. And then… he said they died trying to stop it."
"They?" Abi repeated. "Who's they?"
"I don't know," I admitted, my voice cracking. "That's the thing. He didn't say. Just… they. And it felt like he meant something important. Like I should know."
Abi was quiet for a moment. Then she sighed. "Vee, you've been carrying so much darkness lately. You barely smile anymore. You're drowning in all this, and I hate seeing you like this. So here's what we're gonna do."
I frowned. "What?"
"We're going out tonight. There's a new clubhouse in town—music, lights, people. You need to get out of your head for once. Just one night. No nightmares, no marks, no creepy blue-eyed stalker-dream guys. Just us."
I almost laughed. "Abi, you know I don't do clubs."
"You don't. But you do need this. Trust me. If you keep sitting in that farmhouse with your thoughts, you'll go crazy. Let me drag you into the land of the living for a few hours."
Her words softened something in me. Abi always knew when to push, when to pull, when to remind me that I wasn't completely lost.
"Fine," I muttered. "One night."
"That's my girl," she said, her voice brightening. "I'll pick you up at eight. Wear something that doesn't scream hermit orphan with a death wish."
I rolled my eyes, but a small smile tugged at my lips. For the first time in days, the weight on my chest lifted—just a little.
---
Later that morning, I found my grandparents in the kitchen, sipping tea in the soft light. My grandmother looked up first, her eyes warm but tired. My grandfather folded his newspaper, watching me with that same quiet intensity he always did.
"Morning, sweetheart," Grandma said. "Did you sleep well?"
I hesitated, then stepped closer to the table. "Not really."
I took a breath and slowly rolled up my sleeve, revealing the mark on my forearm. It shimmered faintly in the sunlight—silver-blue, shaped like a crescent wrapped in thorns.
"I woke up with this," I said quietly. "It wasn't there before."
Their reaction was instant.
Grandma's hand trembled, her teacup clinking against the saucer. Grandpa's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he leaned forward. They didn't speak right away, but the air in the room shifted—heavier, colder.
"You shouldn't show that to anyone," Grandpa said, voice low and firm.
I blinked. "Why not?"
Grandma reached out, gently tugging my sleeve back down. "Just… keep it hidden, Vee. For now."
"But what is it?" I asked. "It looks like a birthmark, but it glows. I had a dream last night—there was a man, and he said I was his. He said they died trying to stop it. Who was he talking about?"
They exchanged a glance. Grandpa's lips pressed into a thin line. Grandma looked away.
"I don't know," she said softly. "Dreams can be strange. Sometimes they mean nothing."
I stared at them, frustration rising in my chest. I could feel the truth hovering just out of reach, like a shadow behind a curtain. They knew something. I could see it in their eyes. But they weren't going to tell me.
Not yet.
"Just promise me," Grandpa said, standing slowly. "Don't show that mark to anyone else. Not even Abi."
I nodded, but my mind was spinning.
They were hiding something.
And whatever it was… it had already begun.
---
It wasn't the first time I'd felt this way around them. Ever since I came back from college, there had been moments—quiet ones—where I caught them watching me too closely. Whispering when they thought I couldn't hear. Locking drawers that had always been open before.
I'd brushed it off. Told myself they were just being protective. But now, with the mark glowing on my arm and the dream still burning in my mind, I wasn't so sure.
I walked back upstairs, heart pounding. The farmhouse felt different now—less like home, more like a place full of locked doors and unanswered questions.
I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the mark again.
Who was the man in my dream?
Who were they?
And why did my grandparents look worried when I talk about the guy from my dreams?
And why did I feel like something was watching me—even now?
I didn't have the answers to any of these, but I knew I needed answers.
I'll tell Abi about it when she comes over
---