Echoes in the Daylight
594 Words
The morning sun spilled through Amara’s blinds, but it did little to calm her racing thoughts. She had barely slept, haunted by the whispers of shadows and Eli’s warning: “The more you reach, the more they will retaliate.”
Her apartment felt smaller now, walls closing in, the air thick with anticipation.
She looked around. Nothing moved. Yet every object seemed charged—lamp, mug, even the stray pen on her desk—like they were waiting for her intention.
Taking a deep breath, Amara focused. Small movements. Gentle control.
The pen lifted an inch. Hovered. Then wobbled slightly before dropping back to the desk.
“Yes,” she whispered, a mixture of triumph and fear coursing through her veins.
The thrill was short-lived. A shadow flickered across her peripheral vision. Not a dream. Not sleep. Real, solid enough to chill her blood.
Her heart skipped. The whispers followed, curling around her thoughts: You are ours. You cannot hide.
Amara spun, breath shallow. The apartment seemed empty. And yet… she could feel them, lingering, testing her limits.
Her phone buzzed. Tunde.
“Amara… you need to see this.”
“See what?” she typed back.
A photo arrived. His hands shook as he held his camera phone. In the image, the corner of his room seemed… warped. The shadows. Small, curling, flickering like smoke—but real. And they were moving toward him.
Her stomach dropped.
“Tunde! Stay calm! Don’t move anything. Focus on your breathing. I… I can try to stop them!”
“Stop them? What? Amara, what’s happening?!”
“Shadows,” she typed quickly. “From… the dreams. They’re crossing over. I… I’m learning to control them, I think I can help you!”
He hesitated. Then, with a shaky nod, he sent another photo. The shadows had recoiled slightly, as if sensing her will—even from miles away.
Her chest tightened. She was connected. Not just to the dream world—but to reality, and to Tunde.
She closed her eyes, reaching deep. Will. Intention. Focus.
The shadows in Tunde’s room froze. Then, slowly, they dissipated, curling upward like smoke in a draft.
His voice buzzed through the phone. “Amara… you just… you just did that. You controlled them?”
She swallowed. “I think so… but I have to get stronger. If they can reach him, they can reach anyone.”
Eli appeared beside her—he always did in the dream world, but she felt his presence even here. Calm. Steady. Anchoring.
“You’re pushing limits too quickly,” he said. “But you’re learning fast. That’s… encouraging.”
Amara opened her eyes. “I can’t wait. If I don’t push, Tunde… everyone could be in danger.”
Eli’s gaze softened, just slightly. “Then you push. But remember: every time you do, the shadows adapt. They are patient, and they are relentless. You will face consequences for every action.”
Her jaw tightened. “I don’t care. I’ll face them.”
The apartment was quiet again. Too quiet.
Her phone buzzed once more. Another message from Tunde:
“You’re scaring me… but I trust you. Just… promise me you’ll be careful.”
Amara stared at the screen. A chill ran down her spine.
“I will,” she whispered… more to herself than to him.
And she knew, without a doubt, that the next time she slept, the shadows would be waiting. Not just in the dream. But everywhere.
The line between worlds had blurred. And there was no turning back.
- Writer
