I couldn’t see his face.

He was running along a mountain trail. Running desperately. Pursued by black grasping shadows that were little more than holes in the air, but there was no mistaking their intention. The boy was in unspeakable danger and he needed my help.

I opened my eyes.

Curtains fluttered at the dark window. Freezing air whispered through a crack in the frame, but I was drenched in sweat, my heart pounding.

Just a dream? No. I had no idea who this boy was. He appeared to be about my age. But I knew this much with iron certainty:

He was real, and he was headed my way.

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