Love, After Dark

Chapter 16

After the credits rolled, none of us moved. The room stayed dim, the glow from the projector washing over the walls while the screen sat black and quiet. Eventually Sia broke the silence by asking, “Another one?” Mom laughed softly from her seat. “Maybe just one more. I’m exhausted.” We ended up watching old classics. The kind of movies we used to quote when we were kids, the ones that felt like home no matter how many times you’d seen them. We laughed at scenes we already knew by heart, groaned at the cheesy parts, and argued over which ones “still held up.”

After the second movie, Mom stretched and stood, rubbing her lower back. “I’m officially done,” she said. “Eight hours in the car, touring a mansion, and emotional whiplash- I’m calling it.” She kissed the tops of our heads and reminded us not to stay up too late, which we immediately ignored once she disappeared upstairs. We queued up another movie. And then another.

Halfway through the fifth one, I noticed Sia had gone quiet. I glanced over and smiled despite myself. She was sprawled sideways in her seat, mouth slightly open, completely out. I pulled one of the blankets up over her shoulders and turned my attention back to the screen. I don’t remember the end of that movie. Or the beginning of the next. Sleep crept in without asking permission.

The woods smelled like pine and smoke. I was small again- young enough that my feet barely touched the ground when I sat on the log. The fire crackled warmly in front of us, sparks drifting upward into the dark sky. Dad was turning marshmallows with exaggerated seriousness, Mom laughing softly beside him. Sia sat cross-legged near me, already sticky with sugar. Millburn. Home. Something rustled beyond the firelight. I turned my head just in time to see it. A massive black wolf stepped into view, its fur swallowing the light, its eyes glowing- too bright, too aware. The air shifted, heavy and wrong. “Dad?” I tried to say, but my voice caught. The wolf lunged. The fire exploded into sparks. My parents vanished. Sia screamed.

I screamed— “Siri! Siri! Wake up!” Hands shook my shoulders hard. I jolted upright, gasping, sweat slick on my skin, heart hammering so violently it hurt. My eyes flew around wildly. Darkness, shadows, the massive black screen looming in front of me. The theater room. I dragged in one shaky breath after another. Sia knelt in front of me, eyes wide. “You were having a nightmare. You were yelling.” I pressed my hands to my face and nodded, trying to slow my breathing. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m okay. Thank you.”

She stood and walked over to the fridge, grabbing two bottles of water. She tossed one to me, and I drank like I’d crossed a desert. Sia leaned against the counter, watching me too closely. “What?” I asked quietly. She opened her mouth. Closed it. “What,” I repeated. She frowned, hesitating. “It’s probably nothing. I’m just tired.” I waited. She sighed. “For a second, when you woke up… it looked like your eyes were… glowing.” My stomach tightened. “Glowing?”

She shook her head quickly. “That sounds stupid. I was half asleep, you were screaming. I must’ve imagined it.” She didn’t wait for me to respond. “Come on,” she said, already heading for the stairs. “Let’s go to bed.” I stood slowly, unease crawling up my spine. I followed her out of the theater room, the echo of my dream still clinging to me like smoke. As we turned off the lights and headed upstairs, I told myself the same thing she had. It was just a bad dream. Still, sleep didn’t come easily. And when it finally did, I dreamed of glowing eyes watching me from the dark.