The Young Writer

There it was -- the Portal Door. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near the South Wing but there was something…

The glow that shone from every crevice, it seemed to tug at my heart, begging me to come closer… and I obeyed, like a moth to a flame.

As I drew nearer, Grampa’s words of warning echoed through my head: “Don’t go through the portal, Alice. It leads only to bad luck and nightmares.”

Every part of my conscience was screaming at me to turn back, to heed Grampa’...

Like a whisper of smoke, I rise off the bed, and look down. Wait… I can see…me! I see myself lying, sleeping peacefully, on my bed, my chestnut colored hair falling around my shoulders.

How can this be possible, I wonder as I watch my chest rise and fall. How can I be here and there, at the same time?

I don’t have time to ponder this, though, because the air current pulls me out my open window, into the cool May evening.

Acting instinctively, I spread my arms like an eagle’s wings ...