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Then, a noise on the other side of the door caused her hand to freeze above her head before it could clash against the wood again. She might have only imagined the sound, her mind playing tricks on her.
But there it was again. A guttural cough.
"Kallie, honey, get out," said a woman's strained voice.
Tears filled Kallie's eyes as she listened to the throat-scorching cough coming from the other side of the door. She couldn't leave her. Not this time. Not again. She continued to bang her hands against the door. Splotches of red smeared across the door. Smoke continued to fill the hallway. It wrapped around her. Its wisps grabbed onto her, slithering their way up her legs, her waist.
As it grew, the smoke became corporeal and its arms circled her.
But as she tried to pry herself from its grasp, she knew it was not the smoke's doing, but a person's. She clawed at the door, trying to gain a grip on it instead.
"No! Let me go!" she screamed. Kallie wasn't going to leave her there. She couldn't.
"Kallie," the woman's voice was quieter, weaker than before. "It's. . . all right." The coughing resumed. Kallie could hear the smoke filling her lungs, destroying her beautiful voice.
The smoke was getting thicker.
Her screaming turned into coughing as smoke began to fill Kallie's lungs. Her breathing became labored, but Kallie continued to cry out.
The person pulled her closer to their chest. She pumped her legs and arms. She clawed at the air. She pounded at the person's arm wrapped around her, but like a python latching onto its dinner, it was relentless and didn't let her go. The person hissed as she continued to fight and claw at them.
She didn't care if she hurt them.
She didn't care if she died.
She couldn't go through the heartbreak of losing her mother. Not again. Not this time.
Perhaps if she screamed loud enough, it would stop.
Perhaps if she tried harder, it would stop.
Perhaps if she wrenched out her own heart, it would stop.
* * *
It only stoppedwhen Kallie woke to a heart ready to burst out of her chest. It might have been easier if she had ripped her heart out in her sleep. Her throat ached, her skin was moist and hot, her sheets were damp. She looked at her right hand, but it was pale pink and there was no visible redness.
She inhaled and counted to ten as she tried to slow her heart rate.
This wasn't the first time her mother's death had haunted her dreams. Kallie had experienced several variations of this nightmare ever since she could remember. Sometimes it took the form of a storm that tore apart their boat and drowned them; sometimes it was a ravaged bull. But no matter the method, the end always remained the same: an overwhelming sense of helplessness.
Kallie exhaled.
Then, her doors flew open and Polin burst through them with his sword drawn, startling her. His eyes scanned the room, alert and ready to fend off an attacker. When he spotted Kallie's disheveled form sitting upright in her bed, the realization hit him.
There was no attacker, only another nightmare that had startled Kallie awake.
He sheathed his sword and made his features appear neutral. "My lady, is everything all right?"
May the gods bless his heart.
Kallie gave him a small, shaky smile. "I'm fine, Polin. It was just a nightmare."
He shifted his weight. It was always awkward when her nightmares got the attention of her guards. But until she found a solution to quiet the night terrors, she only trusted Polin and Alyn to guard her doors at night. Unlike some of her past guards whom she had to release from their duty, they were the only two guards she trusted to keep quiet.
He nodded his head. "I'll be outside if you need anything."
"Thank you."
