Emma's POV

The air was thick, and suffocating, smoke billowed in twisting plumes, obscuring the bright afternoon sun. Emma stumbled through the chaos, her breaths shallow and ragged as acrid fumes filled her lungs.

Her heartbeat thundered in her chest, a frantic drumbeat that matched the disharmonious sounds of screams and sirens echoing in the distance.

"Help!"

A voice cried out, distant yet piercing, cutting through the chaos. 

Emma turned, her hands trembling, the voice seemed familiar, tugging at the edges of her memory, but the swirling haze made it impossible to see.

The ground beneath her feet was uneven, littered with shards of glass, chunks of debris, and the scorched remains of what once were lives.

"Emma!"

The voice called her name again and this time, it was sharper and more desperate.

She squinted, her eyes burning from the smoke, through the haze, she could make out a figure, a man, his silhouette outlined by flickering flames, it was Jaxon.

"Jaxon."

She screamed, her voice raw with panic, she tried to move toward him, but her legs felt like lead, the closer she got, the farther away he seemed.

"You have to run Emma." Jaxon's voice was muffled, distorted by the roar of the fire that surged between them, "It's too late."

"No, I can't leave you." She cried, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face.

The ground shook violently beneath her, and a deafening explosion shattered the air. Emma was thrown backward, her body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

Pain radiated through her limbs as she struggled to sit up, when she looked up, the world had changed.

Jaxon was gone.

In his place was a massive inferno, flames licking hungrily at the sky. Shadows danced in the firelight, it was terrifying and terrible as if mocking her helplessness.

"Jaxon.” She screamed again, her voice breaking, "Where are you?!"

A cold, hollow laugh echoed through the chaos, chilling her to the core.

It wasn’t Jaxon, this voice was sinister, it was taunting her. 

"You couldn’t save him," the voice hissed, “You couldn’t save anyone."

Emma whipped her head around, searching for the source of the voice, her surroundings shifted weirdly, the burning wreckage dissolving into a dark void.

"Who’s there?” She demanded, her voice trembling.

The laugh came again, louder this time. Then, out of the shadows, figures began to emerge.

They were faceless, their bodies twisted and charred, their hands reaching out for her.

"You let us die." One of them whispered, its voice raspy and accusing.

"No... no, I didn’t." Emma stammered, stumbling backward. Her chest tightened, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

"You did." Another voice chimed in, venomous and unrelenting, "You left us behind."

"I tried." She screamed, clutching her head as their voices grew louder overlapping in a chaotic chorus of blame and despair.

^^^^^^^^^_^

I bolted upright in my bed, my heart hammering as if it wanted to escape my chest, the remnants of my nightmare clung to me like cobwebs, sticky and disturbing.

My breathing was very shallow and my hands trembled as they gripped the sheets. I glanced around my darkened room, my eyes darting to the shadows in the corners, half-expecting to see them morph into flames.

The room looked very unfamiliar and I wanted to freak out but then I remembered where I was. I had been discharged from the hospital about a week ago and the twins and I had moved in with Jeff. 

We didn't have any other choice, he wasn't willing to let us out of his sight. 

I pressed my sweaty palm against my chest, trying to calm down my erratic heartbeat.

It was just a dream, just a dream, I tried to convince myself over and over again. 

But was it?

I remembered it all.

The images had been too vivid, the sounds too piercing, the explosion roared in my ears, the screams echoing endlessly. Smoke filled my lungs, choking me while a hand, whose hand thought, dragged me through the chaos.

“Run, Emma! Don’t look back.” I remember how the voice was frantic, desperate.

My stomach churned as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The clock read 3:12 AM, its red glow casting an eerie hue over the room.

I knew I wasn't going to get any sleep again, there was no way I could go back to sleep now. My thoughts were a storm, fragments of the dream swirling uncontrollably.

I shuffled into my slippers and grabbed my robe, wrapping it tightly around me. The house was still and very quiet, the only sound was the light echoing of my feet on the marble floor. I moved quietly down the hallway, not wanting to wake anyone else.

By the time I reached the kitchen, the cool air had done little to calm down my troubled nerves. I reached out and grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water, my hands shaking as I took a sip.

“You’re up late.” I heard a low voice from behind me. 

I jumped, nearly spilling my water as I turned around to locate where the sound had come from.

Jeff was leaning against the kitchen island, without any care in the world, a mug of tea in his hand. His hair was messy, and his shirt clung to him as though he’d been tossing and turning for hours.

“God Jeff,” I muttered quietly under my breath, clutching my chest to calm my racing heart down, “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he said, though the slight smirk on his face suggested he wasn’t entirely sorry, “Couldn’t sleep?”

I shook my head and gently set my glass down on the counter, “Nightmare.”

Jeff raised an eyebrow and gestured for me to sit.

I eyed him and the stool warily at first, hesitating for a moment before sliding onto the stool across from him.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked, his tone unusually soft.

“I don’t know,” I started, rubbing my temples, “it didn't make any sense, it was just a bunch of images but it felt so real, like it was happening or like it had once happened,” I admitted.

What I was saying made no sense, I knew that much but I just needed to talk to someone about it.

Jeff’s expression darkened, his hand tightening around his mug, “What did you see?”

I paused, taking in deep breaths as the images flashed through my mind like a broken slideshow.

“It was chaos,” I finally said after the longest silence, “There was fire everywhere, and people screaming. I was running, but I don’t know where or from what. Someone was with me, pulling me along, telling me to run, but I couldn’t see their face.”

“Do you think it was a memory?” Jeff asked.

“That’s the thing,” I said, frustration now very evident in my voice, “I don’t know. It felt like a memory, but it could’ve just been my mind playing tricks on me.”

Jeff was silent for a moment, his gaze thoughtful, “Dreams are tricky,” he said finally, “Sometimes they’re just dreams but other times they’re your mind’s way of processing things you’ve buried. Things you don’t want to face.”

I frowned, staring down at my glass. “But how? Could I process something that never happened? Those memories don't belong to me unless there's something about this accident you're not telling me.” I tried to pry out information from him again, but as usual, he didn't budge. 

“Emma, I promise you, you already know everything you need to know about your accident, there's nothing else to it. It was probably your mind playing tricks on you. I wish you would really just believe me, I have nothing to hide from you and no reason to lie to you.”

I stared at him, the sincerity in his voice catching me off guard. Jeff wasn’t usually one for heart-to-hearts, he was more likely to crack a sarcastic joke or deflect with a smirk. But tonight, there was no sarcasm, no deflection, just him, raw and honest.

“Do you ever wish things were different?” I asked softly.

“All the time,” he said without hesitation, “But wishing doesn’t change the past, it doesn’t undo what’s been done. All we can do is move forward.” He finished. 

I looked down at the glass in my hands, my fingers tracing the rim. “Sometimes, I don’t know if I can.”

“You can,” Jeff said, his voice steady, “You’re stronger than you think, Emma. Stronger than they ever gave you credit for, than I ever gave you credit for.”

His words hung in the air, filling the silence with an unexpected warmth.

“Thank you,” I said after a long pause and although my voice was soft it was filled with nothing but sincerity. 

“For what?”

“For staying,” I finally said, meeting his gaze, “For being here.”

Jeff’s lips quirked into a small, almost unnoticeable smile, “You don’t have to thank me for that, I never should have let you go those years ago, you’re not alone in this Emma. None of us are.”

The kitchen fell silent again, but this time, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was the kind of silence that felt safe, like a shared understanding between two people who didn’t need words to communicate.

I sipped my water, my thoughts still racing but no longer as overwhelming. The nightmare was still there, lurking in the back of my mind, but it felt a little less suffocating now.

As the night wore on and their conversation drifted to lighter topics, I realized that the weight of the nightmare didn’t feel quite as heavy anymore.

They weren’t gone, I don't think they were leaving me anytime soon but for now, they felt manageable and that was enough.