Tyler felt his chest tighten, each breath harder than the last, as the void around him seemed to close in. He was surrounded by flames that floated gently in the air, moving like dancing spirits with no clear direction. The ethereal, vibrant flames illuminated the space without touching the ground. They brushed against his face like invisible fingers but didn’t burn him. The ghostly light contrasted with his hands, which looked like they were made of living ash, the blackness stretching up to his forearms.  

The heat radiating from the flames was suffocating. It felt like glowing embers were pressing against his skin, burning him from the inside out. The pain was intense, almost unbearable, spreading through his body like an unrelenting wave. His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees. The weight of his body seemed to crush him, and his skin, disintegrating into ash, floated around him like fragile dust.  

He tried to scream, but his throat was dry. The air refused to fill his lungs. When he finally managed to make a sound, it wasn’t his voice. It was a bestial roar, guttural and deep, reverberating through the void, expanding like shockwaves that shook the very space around him.  

He tried to scream again, but the flames vanished in the blink of an eye. The void was replaced by the icy cold of his room, snapping him abruptly back to reality. Tyler woke with a start, his chest rising and falling in a frantic rhythm. Cold sweat covered his skin, making it glisten under the dim light, while his heart pounded as if trying to escape his chest. His hands trembled, a strange tingling running through them, and they still felt warm, as if the embers from the nightmare had left invisible marks.  

— Tyler Red Way! Get out of that bed right now! — Cassandra Red Way’s sharp voice cut through the silence like a whip, echoing through the house with authority even before the door swung open with a loud bang.  

Tyler stirred in the tangled sheets, feeling the damp fabric cling to his skin. His tall, slightly awkward frame felt even heavier, as if the nightmare had drained his strength. His white hair, messy and stuck to his forehead, added to the disheveled aura surrounding him.  

— What the hell...? — he muttered, his voice hoarse and heavy with exhaustion. His sleep-clouded eyes tried to focus on the energetic figure at the door.  

Cassandra Red Way, with her firm and decisive posture, was already glaring at him. Her brown skin glowed in the morning light, and her short stature made the contrast with her son even more striking. With her arms crossed and a frown on her face, she radiated impatience, a rare trait for the usually calm woman.  

— You’re late! — Cassandra exclaimed, her sharp eyes scanning Tyler’s room. It looked like a tornado had swept through: the closet door wide open, crumpled clothes scattered on the floor, and a pile of lost socks in the corner. She slammed the closet door shut, the sharp sound echoing through the mess like a warning of her growing impatience.  

— Late for what...? — Tyler grumbled, burying his head under the blanket and trying, unsuccessfully, to block out the insistent daylight streaming through the window. His voice was muffled, dripping with disinterest.  

— For school! — Cassandra clicked her tongue, marching to the window and yanking the curtains open with a sharp motion, the fabric screeching on the rails. — Or did you graduate and not tell me?  

Tyler let out a low groan, completely lost between sleep and the lingering chill of the nightmare that still sent shivers down his spine.  

— What day is it...? — he asked, his voice dragging as he burrowed deeper into his cocoon of sheets, as if that could protect him from reality. His pale, lean frame was partially visible, revealing a slouched posture that seemed to defy his mother’s energy.  

Cassandra pulled her phone from her pocket and, with a quick motion, unlocked the screen. But instead of checking the calendar, she pointed the camera at her son. A mischievous smile began to form on her lips.  

— March 25th, — she said, holding the phone steady as if it were a real threat. — Now get up, or I’m posting this on my stories...  

— Mom! — Tyler groaned, not even bothering to peek out from under the blanket. His voice was a mix of protest and desperation. — It’s my birthday!  

Cassandra rolled her eyes, but her smile remained, now blending exasperation and amusement.  

— Happy birthday, sweetheart, — she replied before yanking the blanket off with a swift, merciless motion, leaving Tyler in his shorts in the middle of the messy bed. He squirmed, desperately trying to cover his torso with his thin arms, but she wasn’t having it.  

— Now get up.  

— I don’t have to go to school on my birthday! — he argued, his voice a mix of whining and resignation.  

— Tyler. Red. Way. — Her voice hardened, each word sharp and precise, the kind of tone only a mother at her limit can master. Her eyes narrowed as she leaned slightly forward, creating an aura of unquestionable authority. — Hyan, Amelia, and Jake are already outside. Go take a shower and get ready, or I promise this will be your last birthday!  

Tyler sighed deeply, feeling the weight of surrender take over his still-lazy body. He knew there was no winning this battle.  

With no other choice, Tyler dragged himself to the bathroom, his heavy footsteps echoing through the house. He muttered under his breath with every move, as if each effort were a small torture. The cold water running over his body brought momentary relief, but it wasn’t enough to erase the lingering heat that still seemed to pulse in his hands. It was as if the fire from the nightmare continued to burn somewhere inside him, a persistent reminder of something he couldn’t fully understand.  

After finishing his shower, Tyler looked at himself in the fogged-up mirror. His red eyes, slightly puffy from the restless night and interrupted sleep, stared back at him. He ruffled his wet white hair with his fingers, an automatic gesture from someone who didn’t have the energy to care. He threw on the first black T-shirt and faded jeans he found, the uniform of someone who wanted to go unnoticed. The sound of voices from the sidewalk reminded him that his friends were already waiting.  

He was greeted by an explosion of energy when he opened the front door.  

— Finally! Hey, Ty! — Amelia shouted, her loud voice matching her bright pink curls that bounced as she waved enthusiastically.  

Beside her, Jake looked out of place, discomfort written all over his movements. His auburn hair reflected the morning sunlight, but he seemed more interested in staring at his own feet than joining the commotion.  

— Ugh, why all the yelling? — Tyler muttered, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to shake off the lingering fatigue.  

— Finally, the princess is awake. Hallelujah! — Hyan chimed in, a cheeky grin lighting up his face. He held his bike with one hand and adjusted his glasses with the other, a gesture that seemed automatic. Shorter and slimmer than Tyler, the younger brother shared the same white hair and red eyes, but his energy contrasted sharply with his older brother’s sleepy demeanor.  

— Jake has something to say! Go on, Jake! — Amelia pushed the redhead forward, clearly enjoying his discomfort.  

— Amelia! — Jake protested, his face turning as red as his hair. He looked down at his feet again, as if wishing the ground would swallow him.  

— Jake...? — Tyler raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his friend’s unusual behavior. He noticed how Jake fidgeted, the nervousness evident in his movements.  

— Tyler... — Jake began, his voice shaky, almost choking.  

— Hyan! — the younger brother interjected with a teasing smile. — Oh, I thought we were taking turns saying names...  

— I just... — Jake stammered, stumbling over his words as if they were insurmountable obstacles. — Well, happy birthday, man! All the best and good health and...  

— Good grief... — Hyan sighed dramatically, taking off his glasses and pretending to clean them with an imaginary cloth. He shook his head, his lips curled into an amused smile.  

Tyler couldn’t help but laugh. The situation, though chaotic, was starting to bring a light relief to the day.  

— Seriously, that’s it? — He gave Jake a light tap on the shoulder, still laughing. — I thought you were gonna ask me out or something... Thanks, Jake. Oh, and there’s a party tonight for my birthday, by the way.  

Jake forced a smile, but Tyler noticed something in his eyes—a shadow of worry, almost imperceptible. He decided to ignore it, focusing on the lighthearted mood instead.  

With a quick motion, Tyler grabbed his bike, his hand still tingling slightly. It was as if the fire from the dream had left its mark, subtle but present, on the tips of his fingers.