"Tassie?"

"Tassie?"

Even as I heard that little voice, my body still fought to remain unconscious. I heard the pitter-patter of feet on wooden floorboards before a small weight caused a dip upon my mattress. That weight bounced from left to right as it traveled along my bed, hovering above me before plopping down roughly onto my stomach.

The air left my body, my eyes popping open just as my little brother yelled, "Tassie, wake up!"

Then instinct took over. My fingers crawled over his chubby stomach, his miniature legs and arms kicking out in defeat. "I told you not to wake me up, didn't I? Didn't I warn you about what would happen, little boy?"

Maxie's giggles filled the room, the sunlight causing his sandy curls to look like a halo above his chubby face. When I finally set him up once more, his flushed features formed into a pout rather than a smile.

"Morning, Buddy. Where's Mama?" I asked.

He hugged his ratty bear to his chest, his stomach peeking out from under his treasured Spiderman pajamas, which were a size too small. "She's in the titchen and Daddy is already gone."

I pushed his curls back, laughing as he shooed away my hand. "Where did Dad go?"

His little shoulders lifted and fell. "Don't know. Can you read me a tory?"

It was then that I noticed how bright it was in my room. I could even hear conversations beyond my window. "I should help Mo--"

His little face scrunched up in confusion. "But Mama say ask you?"

Meaning she had too much on her mind to entertain him. "Twins still sleeping?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I was real twiet when I pass they room."

"Okay, go get a book."

As Maxie scampered away, I rose from my bed. Ignoring the artic touch from the wood, I gingerly walked closer to the window, not sure of what I was expecting to see.

The end of the world?

A war?

The aftermath of an apocalypse?

Instead, I got an eyeful of Mr. Lopez's ass as he bent to tend to his tomatoes. Rolling my eyes, I shifted to take in grumpy old Mrs. Watson allowing her monster of a dog to relieve itself on her front lawn.

Finally, less waste for everyone else to step on.

And then my sight zeroed in on Mr. Lawson's house three doors down. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but his arms were waving wildly, and his stance seemed defensive. It wasn't until he slammed his front door that I saw Dad storming from his lawn. I ducked down, my pajama pants gathering around my feet as I strained to get a closer look at Dad's face.

Why was he so upset with one of the only store owners we had left?

"Wait, where are the guards?" I whispered. Doing a quick scan of this section of the neighborhood, I found not one uniformed soldier walking the streets. Even the makeshift tower at the end of the road was empty.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I froze, my chest violently rising and falling, my legs weakening until my butt hit the floor.

Would there be no more rationed food dropped off at our door?

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

No more jugs of water and purification tablets?

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I closed my eyes, repeating those simple instructions until my heartbeat calmed; yet, that inner dread never left. My eyes opened, the room came back into focus while my mind, once again, traveled back to last night's conversation...

Derrick and I rose from our positions at our parents' door, hurrying silently back down the hall. With each step, the light became dimmer making it so that I couldn't see Derrick's expression until he lit the candle on his bedside table. He slumped onto his messy bed, arms resting on his knees with his eyes on the floor.

My brother looked-- well he looked kind of defeated.

I took a seat next to him, ignoring this room's familiar stench of sweat and old food. "I didn't actually expect that when I suggested this."

"What exactly were you expecting then?" he replied.

My eyes fell to my hands, fingers picking at a loose thread on my glove. "That Dad would stop saying everything is okay."

"Cassie, no one is blind here. Everyone knows things aren't what they used to be." He turned to me, brown eyes staring deeply into mine. "But you do know that Dad would do anything to protect us, right? I would do anything to protect us."

"Of course, Derrick." I paused, wondering how best to word my next question. Then, softly, I asked, "Did Wes's dad really say that about the guards? Are we really on our own?"

Instantly, a bitter grin graced Derrick's face as he shook his head. Then like clockwork, my brother's hand rose to dismiss my worry, and that eerie feeling of talking to a younger version of Dad returned. "Cassie, must we go over this again? You're worrying about nothing. You heard Dad. Do you see Greg leaving?"

I just looked at him. There was a small piece of me that wished I could be that naïve, to blindly believe, and yet--

"But Natasha and Travis left. What if they knew that this neighborhood--"

"Look, Cassie, I know you're scared. And that's partially my fault. I never should have allowed you to listen in with me."

Allowed? What happened to 'this was your idea'?

But I took a breath, my mind repeating Wes's advice. "Derrick, I'm just saying the world isn't getting better. And that it might be safer to--"

"To what? End up out there searching for something with no plan? To wind up in a worse situation than what we started in? God you keep bringing up Travis as if panicking and running away is something to look up to. No, trust me— Actually no, trust Dad. It's smart to stay in a safe place."

Thanks, Wes. This was like talking to a brick wall, so I changed tactics.

I had never asked Derrick this before, but now I couldn't stop myself. "Do you think I have an overactive imagination too?"

My brother's eyes fell to my gloved hands. "I think it's like what the therapist said. They were simply night terrors."

During the day? While I was awake?

I smiled faintly before I quietly returned to my room, for it seemed hearing the truth had confirmed what I always knew. The men in my family were oblivious to the truth, and while Mama's echo of my fears was a surprise, her surrender was not...

"Found it!" Maxie shouted as he made a beeline for my bed, his voice pulling me from my worries and back into the present. "Now you wead."

Caving, I folded my long form around his short one on my bed, ignoring the funny thought of how bossy the men in my family were. Caressing his curls, I blocked out my fear and my dread, choosing instead to focus on providing comfort to the one person too little to understand the mess humanity had made of the world around us.

"Where the Wild Things Are, again?" I asked as I turned over the creased book cover. Our tablets no longer worked, and out of all the paperbacks Mom and dad had managed to gather, this one was still his favorite.

"His name's Max too."

I grinned, of course. If only everything was that simple.

And so, we got lost. And for a moment, retelling the tale of a child embarking on a journey only to eventually find his way home felt good, it felt normal. I found myself actually giggling while decoding Maxie's constant interruptions.

Once I closed the last page for the second time, Maxie's chubby face peered up at me with a semi-toothless grin. "Tassie, am I bave enough to beat ta wil tings?"

I returned his smile. "Of course, but Max didn't beat them. He became friends with them, king even." I rose, knowing what would happen before my little brother's legendary begging even began.

"One more time, Tassie. One mo--" he pleaded, small fingers reaching quickly to grip mine. My eyes fell to our palms, my smile instantly dropping from my lips as that panicked feeling returned with a vengeance.

Breathe Cassie, breathe.

Only repeating that mantra wasn't working this time. Blinking, I couldn't seem to clear my view of the black gloves still laying on my bedside table.

No, not again...

The world began to blacken at its edges. And the last thing I consciously remembered was Maxie's worried face before my body collapsed back atop my mattress--

The walls of my room disappeared, large towering trees taking its place. The sun vanished and with it came darkness with swirls of gray. I glanced to my right, then quickly to my left. Why were so many people screaming? Were monsters hurting them? Would big creatures come from inside the forest?

There it went again.

Those screams... screams like those in Derrick's scary movies. Turning around, all I found was fear. Fear was everywhere. I could see it in Mama and Daddy's faces, in Derrick's voice, in Cassie's movements. And I wanted to yell for them to wait, that I didn't want to play this game anymore, but no one was listening.

Panting, I followed their path until--

"Stop!"

There leaning over me, was Mama, and in her grasp was me and Maxie's hands forcibly pulled apart. Quickly, she dropped to her knees, caressing my little brother's cheek. "Mommy needs you to go clean your room."

But Maxie's big brown eyes remained on me. Biting his lip, he asked, "Is Tassie okay?"

Yet, I couldn't move. I couldn't even speak.

"Cassie is fine," Mama lied. "Now be a big boy and do as I say."

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I never actually saw Maxie leave the room. I was more focused on trying to smother this anguish, sorrow dripping from my chin like water from a faucet. My curls shook within my trembling fingers, the sight of the ceiling blurring, and yet all I could see-- all I could see was--

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

"Cassie, look at me!" Mama said, her grip forcing me to sit up. "Look at me!"

Struggling to focus, I couldn't help but compare her expression to the one I saw in my vision. "He-- Mama, he--"

She shook her head in denial, yet her eyes were so wild, so crazed. "You were having an episode. Cassie, it isn't real."

But I felt it. I felt Maxie's fear--

Didn't I? Was this what crazy felt like?

"But Mom­­--" I tried again, my words failing before she could even silence me. But I didn't want to live with this alone. I needed her to know if only to unburden myself.

"It was just a nightmare. We all have them," she insisted.

Yet, I couldn't understand this. My hands looked so normal.

Why did they look so normal?

I felt so normal. How could normal be crazy?

She froze. Her body became so still that I worried if my insanity was contagious. Then I followed her train of sight to my bedside table. My gloves. My stupid gloves.

"Mama--"

With shaking hands, she picked them up before gently handing them to me, her eyes calm as they avoided mine. "You know that not wearing these triggers your terrors."

Look at me, Mama. I tried to see beyond her blank expression, beyond her flushed brown skin, beyond her stilled movements. Please, I need to know that you don't see a monster.

But she wouldn't acknowledge me. It was like in her mind, my panic didn't register. Dazed, I slipped the gloves back on, watching as she silently picked up her laundry basket.

"Twins are up. I need you to help them get ready," she instructed woodenly as she moved towards the door.

Wiping my cheeks clean, I allowed my head to fall into my hands, wishing I could put my shit back together as quickly as she put together her composure. It wasn't until I heard the creak of the door that I realized that she remained at the entrance.

With a voice no louder than a whisper, she asked, "Did you see it? Was it like Aunt Grace?"

Looking up at her, I shook my head. "No, I just saw his bear on the ground."

Finally, she turned back to me. And there beneath the calm, I saw it, hope. "Good. That's good then."

But was it?

Then wordlessly, she left my room. Mama left me alone still too shaken to follow because while I didn't see death in my vision, I did see the devastation on our faces.