In Between Worlds

Chapter 2................... Meeting Her

Waking up the next day felt wrong.

The ceiling above me was mine. The familiar c***k in the plaster, shaped like a lightning bolt. The poster of Cristiano Ronaldo peeling at the corners. My blue blanket with the faded dinosaurs.

But none of it felt real.

I just couldn’t fathom it. Couldn’t stop thinking whether that was real or just a dream. Or worse — perhaps it was all in my imagination. A nightmare my 10-year-old brain cooked up because I ate too much birthday cake.

But to think I woke up on my bed felt more surprising than anything.

Because I could remember it. Vividly.

I could remember the cold bite of grass under my bare feet. The slick, burned bark of the trees. The smell of damp earth and old blood. The weight of those crimson eyes pressing into my soul.

It felt so real.

I _knew_ I was in the woods before the world became blur. I _knew_ the king-shadow raised its hand with too many fingers. I _knew_ I collapsed while something ancient watched me fall.

So how was I here?

My chest felt tight. I yanked my pajama top up and checked.

There it was.

A mark. Right over my heart. A spiral of black veins, thin as threads, pulsing faintly under my skin. It didn’t hurt. But when I pressed my finger to it, a wave of cold shot through my ribs and my breath hitched.

I dropped my shirt fast, like the mark would burn me if I looked too long.

And then something else crossed my mind, shoving the terror aside for a second.

Today we were resuming back in school.

First day of Primary 5. New class. New teacher. The thought should have made me excited. Instead, my stomach twisted into knots.

Just when I was thinking about that, my mum called me.

“Alex! If you don’t come out now, you’ll be late!”

Her voice was normal. Warm. Safe. The kind of voice that made monsters seem stupid.

I stumbled out of bed. My legs were shaky, like I’d actually run for miles in the woods.

We prayed in the living room. Mum, Dad, and me holding hands. Dad’s voice was loud and sure as he thanked God for a new term, for protection, for wisdom.

Protection.

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. _Please. Whatever took me last night — don’t let it come back._

After prayers, Mum prepared me for school. Cornflakes and milk. My uniform ironed sharp. She combed my hair and kissed my forehead.

“You’re ten now, my big man,” she said, smiling. “Make me proud today.”

If only she knew. I didn’t feel like a big man. I felt like prey that somehow escaped the trap.

On getting to school, the moment I dropped from the car, I saw something.

No.

I _felt_ something.

It hit me in the chest, right where that spiral mark was. A sudden heat, then cold, then something I had no name for. It was different. It was unlike anything I’d ever known.

And I’m still a kid, for goodness sake. Ten years old. I should be thinking about football and new notebooks and whether Emmanuel from Primary 4 still owed me a rubber.

But I wasn’t.

Because I saw _her_.

She was coming down from her parents’ car. A black Lexus. The door opened and she stepped out like she was walking out of a dream.

She wasn’t doing anything special. Just holding her pink backpack, adjusting the strap. Her school uniform was the same as mine — blue and white. Her hair was in two neat twists with white ribbons.

But the moment my eyes landed on her, the world went quiet.

The shouting of other kids faded. The car horns dulled. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

I felt something I never felt before.

It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t the terror from last night.

This was... warm. Scary in a different way. Like falling, but not wanting to stop.

I just knew. I _knew_ I wanted to be around her. Wanted to hear her voice. Wanted to know if she liked rice or yam. Wanted to sit next to her and see if she smelled like baby powder or cocoa butter.

It was madness. I was ten. What did I know about anything?

But my feet were already moving. Almost immediately, I went ahead before my brain could stop me.

“Hi,” I said. My voice cracked. Stupid. “What... what class are you?”

She looked at me. Her eyes were big and brown and full of morning light. She didn’t laugh at my cracking voice. She just smiled. Small. Shy.

“Primary 5B,” she said.

My heart did a stupid flip. “Me too!”

It came out too loud. Too eager. A boy passing by snickered. My ears went hot.

I cleared my throat. “I’m Alex. What’s your name?”

She tucked a twist behind her ear. “I go by the name Jessica.”

Jessica.

Such a sweet voice. Such a beautiful name.

The name sat in my mouth like honey. I wanted to say it again. Jessica. Jessica. Jessica.

I thought to myself, _I’m in trouble._

I couldn’t stop thinking and looking at Jessica in the class that day.

Mrs. Adeyemi was writing on the board. Math. Fractions. My best subject. But the numbers swam.

Because all I could see was Jessica, three rows ahead, her head bent over her notebook. The way she chewed on her pencil when she was thinking. The way her hand moved when she wrote — neat, careful letters.

I didn’t hear a single thing Mrs. Adeyemi said.

During break, I wanted to talk to her. But my friends called me for ball. I went, but I kept looking over at where she sat with two other girls, sharing her lunch.

She laughed at something, and the sound hit me right in that spiral mark. It pulsed. Once. Warm.

I kicked the ball too hard and it flew over the fence. Emmanuel called me an i***t. I didn’t care.

And then finally it was closing time and my parents came to pick me up.

I looked for Jessica in the crowd of uniforms. Just one glance. She was getting into that black Lexus. She didn’t see me.

The ride home was quiet. Dad asked how school was. I said, “Fine.” Mum asked if I made new friends. I said, “Yes.”

I was lying. I hadn’t made a friend. I’d found... something else.

Upon getting home, I dropped my bag and ran to my room. I took my tablet before I even changed out of my uniform.

My fingers were shaking as I typed into Google: _why do you feel funny when you see a girl_

I was too young to understand. Ten. What did I know?

But what the research brought was a word.

Love.

And then something related. Infatuation.

Article after article. _Signs you’re in love._ _What is love at first sight._ _Can kids fall in love?_

My cheeks burned reading it.

_Increased heart rate. Can’t stop thinking about them. Want to be near them. Feel happy when they smile._

Check. Check. Check. Check.

I found out that I might just be infatuated about her. And that it was something called love at first sight.

I guess I was too young to understand. The articles said that. _You’re just a kid. It’s probably a crush. It will pass._

But it didn’t _feel_ small. It felt huge. Like the woods last night. Like the king-shadow’s eyes.

It felt like something that would change me.

I closed the tablet. My face was hot. Was this normal? Did other boys in Primary 5 feel like their chest would explode because a girl had white ribbons in her hair?

And then, after my research, the air in my room changed.

The temperature dropped.

That was when I remembered what happened the other night.

All of it rushed back. The birds. The wolves. The banshees. The knock. The woods. The circle of shadows.

The king.

The crimson eyes.

The hand with too many fingers.

The blurriness.

The mark.

That changed my countenance completely.

The warmth I’d felt thinking about Jessica turned to ice. The spiral on my chest gave one slow, deep pulse. Like a heartbeat that wasn’t mine.

I scrambled to the mirror. Yanked up my shirt.

The mark was darker now. The black veins had spread, just a little. From a coin size to the size of my palm.

And it was cold. So cold it burned.

I was just hoping. Praying. Begging.

That the same wouldn’t occur tonight.

Because I didn’t know which was scarier anymore.

The monster with crimson eyes that claimed me in the woods...

Or this new feeling for Jessica that made my human heart feel like it didn’t belong to me either.

Outside my window, a bird sang.

Not a cheerful morning chorus.

Something older. Something wrong.

And for the first time, I understood the notes.

They weren’t announcing a funeral.

They were announcing a beginning.