I wake up panting, at a loss for breath.

Another dream, though this time it felt different. More urgent. I lie on my bed, just staring at the ceiling. It felt so real, was my only thought as I took my hand to the spot I had been stabbed. I inspect my hands, but they show no sign of the troubles from the cave. As I go over the rest of my body, it shows no signs of ever having been in that situation. I'll just lie for a while more, I thought as my eyes slowly dropped shut.

"Livvie!", I heard shortly after. "Livvie dear, wake up, almost time for school,'' Gran yells from the stairs. I can hear her feet shuffling back to the kitchen, where the noise of the kitchen reaches my ears. I get up, my bed creaking in protest. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I look back on my bed in longing. I heave a sigh and move to the bathroom. I go to take a shower, my muscles relaxing under the weight of the water. Stepping out, I change into comfortable clothes. Just a simple white shirt undershirt with a grey hoodie with the words "Soccer Champ" embedded across. A pair of light wash jeans as well, paired off with a black retro watch. I blow dry my hair as much as I can in 2 minutes, and then add a light grey bandana to my head. I don't bother with makeup— we don't get along.

After finishing, I step back and inspect myself from the mirror. Looking back at me is Olivia O'Henry. My dirty blond hair is already curling around the tips, drying at its own pace. Watch, by the end of the day, when my whole head is dry, I'm gonna have a nest up there. Perks of humidity.

My eyes trail up to my skin, slightly blemished. Stupid acne, I think as I inspect it, stupid humidity. Rite of passage, that's what they call acne. My honey brown eyes darken at the sight of a new pimple on my nose. Daily struggles. Now the question is, should I pop it and risk further ruining my skin, or try and get through the day like this?

"Livvie! Are you awake? Do I need to come up?" I hear before I can take action.

"I'm awake Gran", I shout back, "I'm coming". I run to my room, grab my tattered old red backpack, and race down the stairs.

Upon entering, my senses are overloaded. The noise from earlier has only increased, leaving a slight ringing in my ears. Pots, pans, and everything else sprayed across the table and floor. We live in a pretty decent house, and with just the 2 of us, we have plenty of room. But, looking across this mess, the kitchen has never felt so small. And the smell! God, the smell! "What happened here, Gran! What is this mess! And where, for goodness sakes, is that smell coming from?" I screech, plugging my nose.

Gran looks up from her place next to the oven, a sheepish look on her face as if being caught doing something she shouldn't.

"Just a recipe gone wrong, nothing to worry about", Gran replies, wiping her hands on her apron, "I hope you don't mind grabbing an apple for breakfast hun" she says as she gives me a once over, making sure my outfit is fit to be seen in public. She gives me a nod before turning back to the mess.

Great, now that my outfit is grandma-approved, I can rest easy.

I make my way through the mess, searching for the apples. Once the apple is secured, I lean against the counter and watch as Gran attempts to clean it.

My Gran is a sweet old woman. Always smiling, always happy. Never once did she let me feel bad for my lack of parents. She was my mum, dad, and Gran in one. We both share the same eyes— my mum's eyes she tells me— though hers look more knowing and understanding. Her light brown hair is resting in a neat bun on her head, secured by a bonnet. I smile to myself, Grans old-fashioned. If she had her way, I'd be wearing bonnets and gowns and carrying an umbrella to school.

Gran looks over at me staring at her. She raises her eyebrows in question but leaves me to my apple. I let my eyes wander through the mess. How did a messed-up recipe cause this? Whatever the reason, I start to pick up bits and pieces. Don't really know what caused this, but I do know it's too much for old gran to do alone. "Liv, hun, you don't have to. I can do it myself".

"You shouldn't have to, Granny" I replied, resolving to fully clean this place before leaving.

I pick up the cookbook and see that pages of it were torn out and scattered across the floor. I go about, picking up the other loose pages. After gathering them all, I leave them atop the book on the counter.

Before walking away, I caught a glimpse of one of the papers.

Taking it out, I look at the writing. Its not letters I've ever seen before. But it's not the fact that I don't know this that surprises me, I don't know a lot of things but don't let that bother me.

No, it's the fact that this is the writing from my dream, the one from the mouth of the cave.

Even odder, it's in Grams handwriting, I'm sure of it.

"Did you finish your homework last night hun?" I look to Gran, with her back turned to me picking something off the floor. Quickly, I tuck the paper into the pocket of my hood and turn to her, putting on a smile, saying, "Chem and Bio are done. Just need a couple more things for my report, but that's not due till next week. I finished my Latin work last night. And math is stupid. '' I move to continue cleaning, my mind still on the paper. Is it a real language? How does Gran know about it?

"Stupid? Math? " Gran says, breaking my thoughts. Putting her hands on her hips and giving me the most motherly look possible she says, "If you're struggling with math, I can always get Mr. Hawse to tutor you. You know he'd love to help". Rolling my eyes, I turn aways and grin to myself. Mr. Hawse is our neighbor. He's an old man, older than Gran even, whose wife died about 10 years ago. He and Gran have been together for a while, so she's always trying to find ways to get the two of us to 'bond'.

"You know,'' Gran starts, "Mr. Hawse-"

"Is a retired teacher, I know"

"Well, if you knew, you should have told me earlier. If you're struggling, he can help you".

"Gran, I just said that math is stupid, not that I struggle or didn't do my homework," I say exasperated. "Besides, I'm sure Mr. Hawse would rather spend time with you than me". Gran ducks her head, attempting to hide her head, but nonetheless, I see the blush creeping up her cheeks. I feel a satisfied smile tugging at my lips.

"Still Livvie, you could spend time with him, especially since he's alone most of the time". That, I cannot deny. Although Mr. Hawse has a family- 3 kids and a couple grandkids- they can't be here all the time. I've never seen his family, but I know they visit and that he goes to them sometimes. Even that, though, cannot fill in all the time he has.

"Okay Gran, I'll see him on my way home from school,'' I say, picking up the last pot from the floor. "Thank you, dear,'' Gran says, kissing my cheek, "I appreciate you".

That's our thing, saying we appreciate one another. Gran always says that she knows that I love her, and how I should know she loves me. But she said we don't always know how much we need one another.

"I appreciate you more Gran".