It was just before recess when Zach asked me to hold his egg. We were doing a school project where the goal was to keep an egg safe for an entire week, as if it were your own baby. If you dropped your egg and broke it, you got an F.

Mr. Marco had signed all of the eggs with a Sharpie, so there was no chance of cheating. Everyone in class had devised a plan to keep their prized egg safe for the week, and Zach was no exception. He was using a white and red thermos lined with tissue paper inside. It looked secure, and I wasn’t worried about breaking it. In fact, it looked safer than mine, and I was starting to consider changing my design.

Maybe because I was distracted thinking about my own egg container device, I didn’t have a firm enough grip on Zach’s thermos. When I got bumped from behind by another kid I fumbled it.

The whole contraption went flying and landed right in front of the teacher’s desk. Mr. Marco saw the egg jump from the thermos and a second later it went SPLAT, right on the floor in front of his desk.

“Jason! Was that your egg?” he demanded, leaping up from his chair.

Mr. Marco had always hated me. I had him in the sixth grade, after he replaced the best teacher in school at the last minute. Then in the eighth grade, he surprised me again by replacing the second best teacher in school and taking over for his class which I was entering. The first day I couldn’t believe it, seeing Mr. Marco sitting behind the desk where Mr. L was supposed to be sitting. Mr. L was my older brother’s favorite teacher ever. Three years prior I’d heard all the stories of how he’d taken his students on field trips every month and entertained them with his comedic lectures, using characters and voices and props that captivated even the most “unteachable” students.

Mr. Marco, by contrast, was a Phys Ed major who thought gym class was superior to everything and barely understood math or science. He was highly favored among the jocks and bullies and despised by the geeks and nerds, like myself.

That first day of eighth grade, Mr. Marco was sitting up front, and he must have seen the disappointed look on my face, because he scowled at me and yelled at me to take my seat. It was as if he had read my mind, and knew I hated him, and that I was disappointed he was my teacher again.

For almost two full years I’d suffered under Mr. Marco. He was mean, rude, and somehow managed to become friends with all of the bullies in school who regularly beat me up during recess. One of those bullies was Zach, whose egg I had just broken.

“No, Mr. Marco,” I said, showing him my egg, safe and sound. “That was Zach’s.”

I turned around and looked at Zach, then wished I hadn’t.

“Sorry,” I mumbled under my breath.

The teacher’s face went a shade redder. Zach was his favorite student. Zach was the quarterback on the football team which Mr. Marco coached. And Zach, despite being the worst student in class, was adored by Mr. Marco.

The teacher’s eyes shifted and I saw he was looking at Zach sympathetically. Zach, who was standing behind me, vibrating with rage. The freckles on his cheeks became harder to see, as his entire face went crimson.

Despite the fact that I knew he wanted to fail me, a precedent had already been set and everyone knew what had to happen next.

“Unless that was a decoy, you get an F, Zach,” Mr. Marco said, sitting back down and marking something in his notebook with a red pen. “Next time pick a smarter person to hold your baby.”

Somehow that stung worse than anything yet.

It didn’t take long for Zach to find me during recess.

His tall, lanky, hyena-voiced friend Chris accompanied him as they held me up against a wall and began to lay a beating on me. It didn’t help that Zach now had both hands free, while I had to hold onto my precious egg for dear life.

Zach punched my arm again and again, giving me a Charlie Horse that would last for weeks.

At first I didn’t protest. I felt like I deserved it. But then it started to hurt worse and worse and I needed to get away more than anything. It felt like something in my arm was about to rupture or break or worse. But no matter how hard I struggled, the two larger, stronger boys held me in place.

Finally, after what felt like hours, I could take no more, and crumpled to the ground, curling into a ball, still trying to protect my egg.

Zach said some parting words which I barely heard, no longer caring what he thought of me. Once upon a time we’d been friends. I’d gone to his house and gone to his birthday parties. But that felt like a different lifetime. A century ago, in another universe.

I walked home from school feeling crushed and weak, wincing every time someone ran past me on the sidewalk, thinking it might be Zach coming to lay another beating on me. Looking over my shoulder again and again, I had a feeling he would be coming for me. What he’d done to me at recess wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

When I glanced back I saw him running down the sidewalk trying to catch up with me. I pretended not to notice, then when I went around the next corner I began to run.

A few seconds later I looked back to see he had several of his friends from the hockey team with him. They were running full-tilt, laughing and screaming at me as I ran away. Their threats made me certain that if they caught me they would hurt me worse than I’d ever been hurt before. And I really wanted to avoid that.

I turned onto a path, leaving the road, racing towards the forest. Immediately I regretted the decision, knowing that I was headed towards an even more secluded area, far away from the relative safety of city streets and plenty of witnesses.

But it was too late to turn back now. The bullies were right behind me, gaining on me fast. I threw my backpack to the ground, trying to gain any advantage I could, and heard one of them tumble to the ground when they tripped over it.

“I’ll kill you for that,” I heard him yelling after me, but I didn’t look back.

By the time I got to the forest I realized they weren’t right behind me anymore. They were still trailing me, but at a jogging pace now. And they were pulling binders and school books out of my backpack and scattering them everywhere as they walked.

“Man, you really shouldn’t litter,” Zach was saying, joined by jeers and laughter from the others. “All this stuff has your name on it, you should really come back and pick it up! Look, there goes your math textbook, that’s gotta be worth like fifty bucks, right?”

I winced, hearing him tear pages from it as they followed me into the forest. It probably cost more than a hundred dollars, I thought, which I’d have to pay back after the school year ended. Either way, I wasn’t turning around for the backpack. I would take my life over my school books any day.

The path was too obvious, I realized. Knowing I had temporarily lost them in the trees, I decided to veer off from it. I had to get creative if I wanted to lose them.

So I went off the path and ran through some bushes, heading away from the trail.

It didn’t take long for them to notice, and I heard them crunching through leaves as they followed after me a few seconds later.

“I SEE YOU!” Zach shouted, and I looked back and saw he was pointing right at me. “And I’m gonna fucking KILL YOU!”

It was an accident, I wanted to scream. But it wouldn’t make a difference. None of it mattered to him. He just wanted blood.

Running as fast as I could through the fallen leaves, I tripped over a branch. It was hidden by the rusted brown and yellow foliage and so I hadn’t seen it.

When I looked up, I realized there was a hiding place just beside me that I would not have noticed if not for tripping.

A large, hollowed-out log was to my right, and I crawled inside of it.

It was large enough for me to fit inside, but just barely. I held my breath, hearing the sounds of footsteps coming closer. The other boys were right outside, looking for me.

“He was here a second ago,” one of them said. “I saw him.”

Patiently I waited for them to leave, hoping they wouldn’t linger too long. The log was wet beneath my ass and I felt the rotten moisture leaking through my pants. I noticed movement to my right and looked to see a fat spider crawling on the ceiling of my hiding spot, and just beyond there were millipedes, potato bugs, and little red worms which squirmed and wriggled as they poked their heads from the decaying wood. There were probably more of them beneath me, and I realized I felt movement under me. The entire rotten log was alive with insects and creepy-crawlies.

Horrified and sick to my stomach, I nearly burst out of there, screaming. But I stayed where I was and hoped they would leave. Instead, they lingered nearby, far too close for comfort.

“Is he in there?” I heard one of them ask.

With fear overwhelming my revulsion, I set down my precious egg and clambered further into the decaying log. I crawled through thick spider webs as things skittered down my back and into my pants, biting back a scream and forcing myself to continue onward. All the way to the end, or at least, what I thought was the end of the hollow log.

Instead of bumping up against a rock or roots or cold hard ground, I kept crawling. Into the darkest place I’d ever been.

Something about it was calling to me, even more than my sense of curiosity at this strange world which seemed to be opening up all around me.

I sensed by the noise of my movements that I was now in a wide open space, damp and cold like a cave, and I felt around, realizing I could stand up now. I sensed there was something just ahead of me, and I reached out to feel a smooth wooden surface.

My hand probed the flat surface for any marker or indication of what it might be, and suddenly I felt something round and polished jutting out from it.

For a few seconds I couldn’t figure it out, because the context clues were all wrong. Whatever this was didn’t belong here. It belonged in a house, not a cave beneath the forest.

It was a door knob.

Which meant this was a door.

But where could it possibly lead to?

I decided to take my chances with whatever was on the other side, rather than risking another confrontation with Zach and his friends.

My heart was pounding fast as I turned the handle, deciding to take a chance and explore further in this strange place. Maybe it was a hobbit’s hole, my young mind thought. Or the home of a leprechaun.

As I stepped through, into another world, I forgot all about Zach and the other boys who were looking to beat me up.

As the door swung open I was hit by a blast of cold air, much more chilly than the damp basement feeling of the cave I had just been in. This new place was in the middle of winter, and it was full of blowing snow, whereas the place I’d just come from was relatively warm. I was wearing jeans and a hoodie, and I was immediately freezing cold and shivering.

“Whoa,” I exclaimed, unable to stop myself from wandering forward.

Scared of going too far from the door, I hesitantly began to explore this new place.

I pushed my way out through thick fir trees, and eventually found myself in a clearing, surrounded by forest. It was dim outside, but it was daylight. The sky overhead was obscured by thick, swirling gray clouds which dumped snow down constantly. My feet were instantly soaked and freezing cold, since my running shoes were not made for this sort of weather.

Clutching myself and rubbing my arms to regain some warmth, I decided this was too much to bear. I was about to turn back, but then I heard the sound of tiny bells jingling, and a voice speaking to me from nearby. It was a woman’s voice, soft and sweet, like music to my ears.

“Oh, dear boy,” she said, emerging from behind a tree. Her hair was dark and she was dressed in gray robes, the same color as the clouds, covered in little silver bells. “How did you find yourself stranded in the forests of Hollow’s End?”

Part of me wanted to turn and run, but her smile was warm and friendly, and the tinkling bells reminded me of Christmas, so I found myself staying.

“Oh, hello. Nice to meet you. Actually, I’m not stranded. There’s a door back there. I found this place by accident and… Brrrrr, it’s beautiful… but cold! I think I’ll have to be heading back now.”

She came a little closer and I saw she was very pretty. Her face looked like it belonged to a supermodel or a famous actress whose name I couldn’t place, and I found myself staring at her intently, despite my desire to go back to where I’d come from where it was warmer.

Then, before I knew it, she was standing right in front of me.

“If you’re cold, I can get you a coat. And some hot cocoa. Would you like that?”

I felt myself nodding, and she took my hand in her own freezing cold one, and when she touched me my entire body became covered with goosebumps, and I found myself going with her. She led me away from the door I’d come in through, and deeper into the cold and wintery world of Hollow’s End.

A little while later we were sitting inside someplace warm, although I didn’t remember walking there. I had a fur coat around my shoulders and I was sipping cocoa, staring at the beautiful woman across from me. She was old enough to be my teacher, and it should have felt rude, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. And she didn’t say anything, only looked at me with that same warm smile.

But then her happy expression dropped and she looked away, as a tear dripped down her cheek, spilling to the floor, where it immediately froze solid. Her lower lip quivered as she said a silent apology to me.

“What’s wrong,” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “How’s your hot chocolate?”

“Delicious!”

And it was. The best I’d ever tasted.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, wiping away the tears which had turned to snowflakes on her face.

“Yes, I’m very hungry,” I replied. I couldn’t help it, I was starving. My stomach was rumbling and I felt like dinner should have been hours ago, and yet time was funny here. I wasn’t entirely sure how long I’d been in this world, on the other side of the door. But the groans from my belly were saying it had been a long time.

“What is your favorite thing in the world to eat?”

I thought about this for a second, and it didn’t take long to come up with an answer.

“My mom’s beef stew,” I said. “It’s the best!”

Her face lit up in a warm grin again and she got up and went to the stove. I noticed for the first time there was a black pot simmering there.

“Well, what do you know? That’s exactly what I’m making for dinner tonight. Beef stew!”

My mouth started watering at the smell. It was exactly like what I remembered from home. Which reminded me I should be going back there. My mom would be worried about me.

Something about this was creeping me out too, the more I thought about home and about the strange situation I was in. Images of Hansel and Gretel crossed my mind, although I hadn’t yet labeled this woman with the dreaded “W” word. I didn’t think she’d like it if I called her that, even if it was true.

As I was about to open my mouth to say I had to leave, she presented me with a steaming bowl filled with beef stew, and I forgot what I had been thinking about. The dish looked just like my mom’s, and the smell was overwhelming. Next she set down a board with a freshly-baked loaf of bread sitting atop it, steaming and warm with butter ready for spreading.

I couldn’t possibly leave right after she’d done all this for me, I thought to myself, and began to dig in.

The meat was tender, the broth perfectly thick and seasoned, and the carrots, potatoes, and onions had just the right amount of bite. It was the best beef stew I’d ever eaten - peppery and hot - and I quickly downed two bowls, devouring four slices of warm, crunchy fresh bread slathered in salted butter, which I used to mop up the puddles at the bottom of the bowl.

Wiping my face with a napkin, I belched loudly and excused myself, my face turning red with embarrassment.

“No need to apologize. A healthy burp is a sign of a properly cooked meal, in my books,” she said from across the table.

I realized then that she hadn’t eaten anything, and felt bad for not noticing earlier.

“I’m just not very hungry these days,” she said, as if reading my thoughts. “But I’m glad I could make you happy with a meal. The greatest joy in life is in feeding people, I always say.”

“That’s what my mom always says too!”

It wasn’t quite what she said, but close enough.

The woman’s face broke again and frozen tears began to pour from both eyes, as she let out a gut-wrenching sob.

It was startling, after our pleasant conversation so far, but obviously there was something deeply troubling this woman.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “I’m not sure if I can help, but I’d be happy to try.”

“That’s sweet of you to offer,” she said. “But you’re just a boy. I need someone… Well, someone who can be very, very sneaky. No, I’m sorry. It’s too dangerous.”

“What’s too dangerous?” I asked, curious now.

She walked over to the fireplace and looked into the flames. Then, after some time, she began to speak.

“It’s been years since I’ve been trapped in this place. An outcast sent to live at the edge of the forest.”

Her voice was sad, and almost brought me to tears as she continued her tragic tale.

“My family once ruled this land. We were fair and just. Everyone in Hollow’s End had enough to eat. It was warm and the sun was shining every day. Crops grew tall in the soil of our lands, towering to the heights of trees. There was always more than enough to go around.

“But then a great beast emerged from the forest. It was a jungle cat, large and white, and with it came the snow. The great tiger was intelligent, and could speak and enthrall the hearts of men. He convinced them to take my crown from me, and with it, I lost my power to hold back his never-ending winter. The trees went bare overnight. The crops began to wither and fail. And soon there was little to eat, and never enough to go around.”

She showed me the bottom of the pot of stew, and the few scraps that remained, then set it down to rest on the stove.

“You gave me all of it?” I asked, stunned and heartbroken. “But you don’t even know me.”

“My mother always taught me to be kind. To help strangers lost in the cold.”

I thought about this for a few moments before making an impulse decision I would come to greatly regret.

“Well, my mom taught me stuff too! And I want to help you. Just tell me what you need me to do. If you need someone to be sneaky, well, I’ll be the sneakiest sneak you’ve ever seen. I’ll get your crown back for you from that tiger!”

She smiled at me, and this time it didn’t feel so warm. In fact, I felt a chill run up my spine as she began to laugh and nod, telling me, “Good boy. Very good boy.”

I found myself outside, dressed in a thick black fur coat and boats, trudging through the snow. There was a sword in a scabbard attached to my belt, and I had a vague memory of being taught how to use it.

How much time has passed? How long did you spend learning how to use that sword? Your mother must be missing you…

Panicked thoughts ran through my mind but they were suppressed now. They were at the back. Hidden. Far away where I couldn’t get to them. The only thing that was important now was the mission. Getting the crown. And I could see the glow of it in the distance, shining silver with the magic beacon cast by the (witch, she’s a witch!) woman who was so kind and so good to me. Heading further and further away from the door which had brought me to this strange place - but that thought didn’t really trouble me anymore. Now I was focused on my mission. Getting back the crown was all that mattered. The crown. The crown. The crown.

At some point I realized I was standing right in front of a gate. Not only that, but someone was speaking to me.

“Your NAME, sir?”

“Revere Frostborne the eighth,” I answered, the strange words coming out with no conscious effort. My voice sounded deeper, I noticed, and looked down to see my hands were lined and cracked, calluses formed at the tips of my fingers from many years of hard labor - or swordplay.

“Ah, we’ve been expecting you for some time,” the man said.

I looked him up and down and saw he was a guard dressed in a suit of armor, and there were dozens of others like him all around me. I was in a castle, like something out of Game of Thrones or Lord of the Rings. There were tapestries on the wall and flickering torches hung beside them as I was marched down a long corridor, deeper and deeper into the heart of a grand and ancient keep.

After going through numerous lines of guards, each larger and more ornately armored than the last, we finally arrived at a massive entryway. There, the guard who had been my escort left me.

I looked up at the eight new guards who stood at the doorway, far more formidable-looking than my previous escort, each dressed in gold armor fringed with red, brandishing the sharpest and most ornate-looking spears I’d ever seen. They blocked my entrance and said nothing.

For a moment I couldn’t think what they could be expecting of me, but then the words came from my lips before I could consider their meaning.

“The armies of the Frostborne Giants have a proposal,” I said. “I must speak to him.”

The guards parted for me and I walked through their midst, entering the largest and most lavishly-decorated throne room I’d ever seen.

Sounds of clanking, rattling armor could be heard behind me and I realized the guards were escorting me the rest of the way, towards what appeared to be a huge throne in the distance.

As I got closer I realized it wasn’t a person sitting on the purple throne. It was a white tiger. Much larger than any jungle cat I’d ever seen on Earth, this beast was easily three times the size of a White Bengal Tiger. And sitting atop its head was a golden crown.

THE CROWN. GET THE CROWN. YOU MUST GET THE CROWN.

The words ran through my head feverishly, running over every other consideration like a steamroller.

Once I was close enough to smell the fish on the great cat’s breath, it spoke.

“Why did you come here?” it asked in a deep baritone voice which rattled my eardrums. “Do you seek to steal my crown for the Silver Witch of the forest?”

GET THE CR…

The command running through my mind was interrupted somehow, and for the first time in a long while, I could think for myself. But I wasn’t sure how long it would last.

“How did you know I came for your crown?”

The guards’ spears were suddenly at my throat from eight different angles, less than an inch away. My heart was pounding fast.

“I could smell her on you. Cats have much better noses than people, you know. Lower your weapons, he did not realize what he was doing. He still doesn’t. The Silver Witch is cunning, you all know that.”

The guards lowered their spears reluctantly.

“Blikjin, Frija, go. Ready the men for an attack. This is likely a diversion,” the tiger said, and two of the guards ran off. The other six formed a defensive formation all around us.

"Frederick! Come quickly! I need your expertise."

A white haired wizard carrying a staff shuffled over and immediately began pawing at my head, as if inspecting for lice.

"Ah yes, just as I would have suspected."

He pulled something out from the back of my skull which continued to emerge for a long, long time as he yanked at it. It felt as if he were pulling a snake from my brain.

As he gathered it and looped it into a coil, the great tiger began to whisper in my ear.

“She can’t hear us anymore. Now, listen closely, boy. This is what you must do…”

I was walking again. The cold wind was blowing in my face and the snow was stinging my skin, but I had my wits again. I could think for myself.

The King of Hollow’s End devised a plan to rid the land of the witch once and for all, but it would be up to me to implement it. If I failed, she would have everything she needed to take over again. And to plunge this other world into permanent darkness.

“She’s far too powerful even for me to defeat,” the king told me. “But you will have the advantage. You will be able to catch her by surprise in a way none of us could.”

The crown was in my hand, the snow crunching beneath my boots. There was a long road ahead of me, although I didn’t remember traveling it the first time, I would be present for every moment of this leg back.

Fortunately for me, the king’s throne room was imbued with a powerful magic, put in place by the wizard, Frederick. The witch wasn’t aware of his power, or his presence, otherwise she wouldn’t have risked sending me alone. But now I was in a place of advantage. All I had to do was get her to put on the crown and it would drain all of her magic, making her powerless, due to a hex placed upon it by the wizard. Without her magic, the witch would freeze like ice and shatter into a million pieces

I continued to walk, pondering my plan and every possible thing that could go wrong. For years, I marched through the cold and the snow, attacked by bandits some days while on others I had nothing to eat. There were good friends made along the way, enemies vanquished and companions lost to sickness and arrows. Yet somehow I managed to survive.

By the time I made it back to that frozen forest I was a changed man. No longer a boy - those days were long since forgotten. I hardly remembered how I had come to be in this place, and part of me suspected I’d lived here all along - that those previous memories were simply another hex placed upon me by the witch.

The sound of tinkling bells broke me from my thoughts, and I looked up to see her standing there, right in front of me. Only inches away.

“You’re back,” she said with that same smile like an eel about to eat supper. “Do you have it?”

No questions of how I was or whether I’d run into trouble. No thank you for my years - no - decades of journeying to fetch it for her.

My hands shaking with barely concealed rage, I fetched it from beneath the folds of my tattered cloak and handed it to her.

“You’re shaking,” she said, taking it from me. Her voice was nervous, and slightly suspicious. “Are you alright?”

“The years have done a number on me, m’lady. I am not the boy I once was. I’ve grown old in my quest to find this for you. And to slay the great tiger who stole your throne.”

“But you have done it? He is dead?”

I nodded.

“Yes. He is dead.”

Smiling wider, she began to put the crown on top of her head. Lowering it to the point where it almost rested there, it hovered for several long moments… But then she pulled it away.

“No…” she muttered. “Too easy…”

Her face was getting red with rage, and I realized she had caught me.

“You shouldn’t be able to tell your own age. That was part of the spell. It was supposed to keep you blind to how much time you spent here - a variation on the hex which enchants my forest.”

She raised her hand and a bolt of energy deformed the air in front of me, causing it to shimmer, and then it moved over me, enveloping me. It was pure heat. Like the air just above a fire, where you would toast your marshmallows.

I screamed as the boiling air began to melt my skin, setting my fur cloak ablaze.

“You will learn not to disobey me again,” said the witch, inspecting the crown in her hands with disinterest. “But for now. Pain.”

The scorching air got even hotter somehow, and my hair caught on fire a second later. Now I couldn’t even scream. My voice was caught, my face frozen in a grimace of sheer agony.

Time stretched out forever, although it only lasted a few instants.

Then thankfully the burning haze was extinguished by a snowy gust of wind.

“Enough, witch! You have destroyed this poor boy’s life. Now you will pay!”

It was the wizard, I realized with relief. He had come to save me. And not only that, but he was riding on the back of the great white tiger king.

Frederick leapt from his back and began to advance on the witch at the tiger flanked her from the other side. He held his staff out in front of him and cast bolts of white lightning at the witch - who in turn sent them ricocheting in every direction, deflecting them with a swirling gray cloud which she manipulated expertly.

One bolt of lightning deflected back exactly at Frederick, hitting him centermass, and sending him flying backwards. After hurtling through the air several yards, he landed against a rock, where he lay motionless.

“FREDERICK!” the tiger-king shouted, abandoning his attack and racing across the snow to his fallen friend.

The gray witch was moving towards the king, slowly closing the distance from behind, and I realized she would kill him if I didn’t do something.

And then I saw the crown lying in the snow.

I would only have one chance. And I would need to be very sneaky.

“You thought you could kill me?” the witch was saying, sending a shimmering orb of heat towards the tiger-king. “You really thought you could kill ME?”

The tiger lunged at her ankle, ducking beneath the orb of magic at the last second and grabbing hold of her leg in his jaw.

“NOW!” he yelled around the bloody flesh in his mouth. “DO IT NOW!”

I didn’t hesitate.

As the witch was distracted, screaming in pain, I jammed the crown on top of her head, twisting it further onto her forehead until it covered her eyes, and was impossible to remove.

It began to turn red, then white-hot, as she howled in pain and tried to pry it off. But it wouldn’t budge.

The witch burst into flame, and I held my hands up to the bonfire of her body to warm myself up as I watched her turn to cinders.

Sadly, a few minutes after the witch died, so did Frederick, the wizard. He managed to hang on for a little while, just long enough for his magic to send the witch back to hell where she belonged, but then his injuries overcame him. He had used the most powerful magic available to him in his effort to stop the witch - and she had turned it around on him, deflecting it right back at his heart.

A tear ran down the tiger-king’s cheek, and I held out my hand to stroke his soft, warm fur. His eyes were brimming with tears as he spoke.

“You should go home. Your family must be missing you.”

“That was just a lie from the witch. This is my home. It always has been. The rest was just a dream.”

“Come,” said the tiger-king. “Let me show you something.”

He led me towards a thicket of trees. Pushing a few branches aside with his great paw, he went into them, the sticky sap leaving brown smears on his white coat.

“In there,” he said, pointing to a strange door, isolated in the middle of the forest. “That is where your true life lies. Looking back, one day you will think that THIS was just a dream.”

Memories flooded back of my mother and father, my friends and family, and of course, the bullies who had tormented me.

“It’s been so long. There’s nothing left for me there.”

“Time works differently in some worlds - at least that’s what Frederick told me. He, himself, was from another world. And he said one day he would return there and only a few hours would have passed. Perhaps it will be the same for youu. There is only one way to find out."

I looked at him and found that now I was crying. I gave the giant tiger a hug and he lifted his paw to hug me back, retracting his enormous claws to do so.

"You are always welcome in my kingdom if you wish to return one day."

And with that, I left him behind, pushing open the door and going back into the cave on the other side.

I found myself back on Earth, and once again in the form of a boy. Unsure how much time precisely had passed, I scrambled out of the log and looked around for any sign of the bullies who had tormented me so many years ago.

Something crunched beneath my foot as I made my way out of the log, and I looked down to see it was my egg. The sacred egg which I'd been tasked with keeping safe.

It seemed so silly now.

I had a good average in all of my classes. Failing the egg project didn't mean anything, really. Except maybe for Zach, who was barely passing. Maybe he would have to be held back because of my blunder.

Suddenly I felt bad for dropping his egg, even if he had beaten me up for it. I hoped he would pass and get to graduate.

I found my backpack at the entrance to the forest, with all of my papers tossed on the grass. My math textbook was fine, though. Despite what he'd said, Zach hadn't ripped it up - he'd only torn out blank pages from a notebook. Maybe he felt bad.

After I'd gathered up my belongings, I began walking home again.

Halfway there, I looked up and saw Zach. He was on the front porch of his house, looking like he didn't really want to go inside. A man and a woman were yelling at each other loud enough to be heard from the street.

"Hey, Zach!" I called over to him.

He looked up and seemed angry for a second, but then seemed to do a double-take. He walked over to me and looked me up and down.

"What's up with you? You look different," he said.

"I've just had some time to think," I replied. "It doesn't give you an excuse to be a dick to me, but I'm sorry I smashed your egg. It was a mistake. Somebody pushed me from behind and it went flying."

"Yeah, okay," he said. "No big deal. I'm still gonna graduate. Just barely, though."

"That's good."

I thought for a second to myself.

"Hey, do you want to come hang out at my place for a bit? I've got the new Street Fighter game. And I've got some eggs and a Sharpie. After two years in his class, I've gotten pretty good at forging Mr. Marco's signature."

He smiled and nodded, and the two of us left the sounds of muffled arguments on the other side of the door and walked away down the street together.

This all happened many years ago. I'm in my late thirties now, and the memories of my other life in that other world have faded. But I still remember how to use a sword. And I still remember the terror I felt as the Silver Witch of Hollow's End set me on fire with her magic. That time while it consumed me felt like it was drawn out forever - and I realized over the years why that was.

In the case of the witch's magic, time does not heal all wounds. It makes little difference.

I think about that sometimes when I'm trying to fall asleep at night, tossing and turning from the unquenchable pain. In the darkness of my bedroom. Every time I see a shadow that looks vaguely like a person I'm still convinced it's her. And that she's laughing in the darkness, tormenting me with her magic.

It doesn't matter that she's dead.

Now I know that there are an infinite number of different worlds out there.

And an infinite variety of horrific things waiting just in the shadows out of sight.

How many doors leading to other worlds are out there?

And what do we do if someone like the Silver Witch steps through, into our world?

What if they're already here?

Or someone else much worse?

YT

TCC