quiet, simple evening with their daughters is all that Allison and Rob were expecting for that evening. "How was your day today?" They'd ask, expecting both of the teenagers to mumble something to the effect of "same old same old" followed by, "what's for dinner?"
Instead, they received a call from their younger twin daughter, speaking to them in a hushed, yet somewhat frantic tone, telling them to call the police because some boy she ran into wouldn't leave her alone and was insistent on coming into their home.
Allison had immediately gone into panic mode, wanting to rush to where Rose was and tell the kid off herself. But her husband—always level headed, sometimes to a fault—assured her that it would be better to let the police deal with him, and not cause a big scene in public. Allison agreed, but continued pacing anxiously around their apartment.
She had always had these dreams (nightmares really) ever since her daughters were born, ones where Rose was gone, snatched from her arms, and her family spent years trying to find her again. The dreams had horrified her the first few years, but eventually she became numb to them, the initial shock having worn off. Rob had suggested the dreams began merely as a result of anxiety in being a new mother, but Allison always had trouble fully accepting that explanation. They felt so real, so familiar, and it was always Rose and never Emma (not that she wanted them to be about Emma, but it was strange how she was never featured).
Thoughts of those dreams were currently lingering in the back of her mind. But she pushed them away.
That was why, after Rose returned home and the police had dragged the short, spiky-haired boy away, she wrapped her daughter up in a tight hug. "Are you okay, honey?"
Rose nodded. "I'm fine, mama," she said. "Just a little shaken, I guess."
"Who was that kid, anyway? Do you know him?" Rob asked.
"He said he was a classmate of mine back in New York. He looked familiar, I feel like I might've spoken to him once or twice but I really don't remember. He was going on about dragons and something about a parallel reality and…I don't know. A bunch of crazy stuff." Allison almost thought she heard a bit of sadness (or hesitation maybe?) in Rose's voice.
"Bet he had a crush on you and was just dying to see you again," came Emma's teasing voice from around the corner in the kitchen.
Ignoring her sister's teasing, Rose said, "He knew about my birthmark, too."
"Well that's no surprise. Kids at school always think it's a tattoo and try to question you about it. He probably heard about it from someone," Emma said.
Allison gulped. She hated when people questioned her daughter's strange birthmark. It made her deeply unsettled in a way she couldn't explain.
Once the family had settled down, Rose had pulled out her cellphone, noticing a text Allison had sent her nearly an hour ago, asking her to pick up a few things from the store. Rose insisted that she could go now and get them, but Allison resisted.
"Let me go, honey. You've had quite the eventful evening, why don't you relax?"
"I'm still reeling from everything that happened. I'd like to take a walk and clear my head."
Typical Rose. She always wanted to deal with things on her own.
After Rose left, Allison decided to get started on dinner, letting her mind wander as she got lost in her cooking. Emma's voice broke her out of her thoughts with, "Hey, mom, look at this."
She appeared around the corner, holding an unfamiliar red jacket and a small piece of paper. "That kid left this here." She handed the paper to her mother. It was a photograph. Allison examined it, her brow furrowing in confusion.
It was Rose, standing in a mauve-colored dress that she was certain her daughter didn't own, next to the kid—Jake, was it?—who had just been dragged out of her home by police. Both of them were smiling, and Rose had her hand linked around his arm. She looked happy. They both did.
"I thought she said she didn't know him," Allison mumbled. "Do you know him?"
"Mm, I kind of remember him from school. I think he was into skateboarding. But I definitely don't remember Rose going to a dance with him."
"She wouldn't…lie about knowing him, would she?" Allison didn't think so, even as the words came out of her mouth. She trusted her daughters completely.
As if on cue, Rose burst through the front door, her face pale. She didn't have the groceries she had gone out to get. "Are you okay?"
Rose wasn't sure how to answer, how to tell her mom that she had just been ambushed again, this time by an older guy around the same age as her dad, and then a…dragon? A small, pink dragon who had blasted a fireball at her. The two kids around her age threw her this freaky looking staff, and she grabbed it and deflected the fireball with ease.
But she couldn't say all that, could she? She could hardly believe it herself.
"I…what's that?" Rose had just noticed the photo in her mother's hand, and caught a glimpse of the corner of it, thinking it was familiar.
"It's a picture of you and that kid," Allison said, handing her the picture. "Are you sure you don't know him?"
Rose let out a sharp gasp, one that somehow sounded both terrified and relieved at the same time. Her hand began to tremble as she clutched the picture, and tears welled up in her eyes. Allison had a hard time reading her daughter's expression. It seemed as though she had realized something, something heavy.
"Jake…?!" She choked out.
The next few minutes were a blur as Rose frantically ran to her bedroom, yelling something about needing to go right now. Allison was panicking.
She emerged, wearing some jeans and a leather jacket with black gloves and boots. Her hair had been hastily thrown up into a braid. "I have to go help him," she said.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what?" Rob said. "Go help him with what? What's going on?"
"You can't be serious," Emma said.
Allison remained still.
"He was right," Rose said, her voice shaking and it sounded as though she could burst into tears at any moment. "He was right, and he needs my help! I have to go!"
"Rose," Allison grabbed her daughter's wrist as she tried to make her way out the door. "Tell us what's going on, right now."
"I don't have time! I have to go now! I'll explain when I get home!"
"Rose!"
The whole family, including Allison herself, were shocked to hear her raise her voice and speak in such a stern way. She had always tried to talk calmly and rationally with her daughters whenever a problem arose, and would simply leave the room to cool off if she felt herself getting too riled up.
"Honey, your mother and I are just concerned," Rob said gently after a long pause. "First you call us to have this boy arrested, and now you're about to run out the door to go find him?"
"I know it sounds crazy," Rose said. "I didn't remember him until I saw the picture. But he was telling the truth. Dragons—they're real! And they're in trouble. I have to help."
"Rose—," Allison choked.
"—Mom, dad, please," she pleaded. "Do you both trust me?"
Rose was always the more independent one between her two daughters. Always fending for herself, she would rarely let Allison take care of her if she was ever sick or hurt, insisting that she was fine. Even as a toddler, she had managed to clamber her way out of her crib when she would wake up, or climb onto a high surface with ease—almost with supernatural agility—to get something she wanted, which would send her mother into a frenzy. But that was just Rose, her headstrong, loving, one-of-a-kind daughter. Her independence usually made her parents proud, but now it filled them with nothing but worry.
"I…—of course we trust you," Rob said.
"Okay," Rose said with a soft smile. "Then please trust that I know what I'm doing, and I promise to explain everything when I get back."
Allison crossed her arms and swallowed back tears. "You'll be safe?" She whispered.
"Yes."
"You'll come back to us, right?"
"Of course, mama."
Rose leaped forward then, enveloping both of them in a big hug. "Thank you. I love you."
With that, Rose had bounded out the front door, leaving her family in an awkward, almost dreadful silence. Allison never finished cooking dinner, nor did her husband or daughter inquire about it. The three simply sat anxiously on the couch as the next hour or so went by agonizingly slow.
When she had finally—finally—returned, the family was in a frenzy of hugs and tears as Rose explained to them everything. About her previous life, the previous reality they had all been living in where she wasn't with them. The story was unbelievable, yes, but somehow Allison knew in her gut that Rose wasn't lying. She and Rob had agreed to allow Jake over to their house the next day to help explain, to prove it to them like he had tried to do earlier that night. If everything Rose had said was true, then this kid was the reason she was even with them in the first place, and for that they felt like they owed him everything.
But for tonight, they simply held their daughter close and never wanted to let go.
