Josh dreams of dragons.
He thinks it's just a welcome escape from everyday life. Until one morning, he wakes up with scales, wings, and a tail.
Josh faces a harsh new reality: he has become something that shouldn't exist outside the pages of his fan...
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"No. Not Wes. Nopleaseno."
Nothing remained of the house I had left only days earlier. In its place lay a twisted and charred skeleton of a building. Black ash clung like an omnipresent shadow to the few upright beams jutting out at odd angles from the heaps of wreckage. The whole scene was gray and lifeless in the pale light.
As I took in the sight, it was all I could do to keep from crash landing. My muscles stiffened, and I tumbled down in a crazy spiral. I slammed into the grass with a muffled cry, rolling over before I came to a stop. Pain stabbed through my wings and back, but I quickly shook off the impact and sprinted over to the ruined house.
"PleasepleasepleasenoNO!"
I jumped over what remained of an exterior wall and scoured the site, leaping over islands of splintered furniture.
"Ohgodnoplease. Not Wes. He's just a kid this isn't FAIR!"
Clouds of damp ash stirred up into a choking mist. My soot-covered scales blended in with the deathly scene. Coughing, I gave up and made my way out. Before I stepped back onto the grass, my paw slipped on something flat. Looking down at the object, I blew away the coating of ash to find one of Jackie's canvases. I saw the white bear that had caught my eye when she had showed me her studio. By some miracle it hadn't burned, and now the mysterious creature regarded me serenely from the painted forest.
I looked away."Maybe... Maybe they made it out. Yes. They wouldn't have been trapped. Jackie would get him out."
My chest heaved, and my gaze flew in all directions as I returned to the grass. At that moment, I registered the yellow tape fluttering gently on stakes around the edge of the property. Police tape.
I turned to see that the shed where I had stayed still stood unchanged. I threw the door open and looked for the bags I had left inside. They were all gone—nothing to be seen besides the stacks of wood along the walls.
Except, there was something. I saw it from the corner of my eye. A piece of paper lying on top of a log pile, folded, with my name on it. Josh. I picked it up slowly and unfolded it.
The note was scribbled in pen on a torn sheet of paper. A quick glance at the signature told me who it was from, although I'd hardly seen her handwriting be this messy. I imagined my mother biting her lip as she wrote with a trembling hand.
Josh,
If you're reading this, please try not to panic. We just need to talk to you again. Every day we'll come by in the afternoon to check if you're here. We just need to know you're ok. Please.
Love,
Mom
P.S. Police took your stuff. That's how we knew where you were. We'll explain.
I read it three times through. The date was scrawled at the top of the note, but it didn't help me. I hadn't thought about the date in a while, and my brain couldn't work well enough to calculate how long ago they had left it. I set the paper back down, staring blankly at it for a moment. There was nothing else to do, only hope they would be back later in the day.
