TITLE: Dream Maker
GENRE: Modern Fantasy
He looms over me, eyes tight, lips pulled into a thin line. He’s watching me. Judging me. Waiting to see what I’ll do next.
"Again," I say through clenched teeth as I pick myself up off the ground. I can’t tell if it’s relief or surprise on my father’s face. It’s because of him I’m on the ground, clothes caked in mud and soaked through to my skin from melting snow. He’s knocked me on my ass today more times than I care to count. Or admit. Nine times out of ten, I put up a better fight. Or at least remain standing long enough to defend myself.
"The problem is," Dad says, between breaths as he crouches lower into his normal fighting position, "you need to get out of your own head. You're thinking too much. You’ve got to relax. Your life, as well as the Dreamers, depends solely on you."
"Easy for you to say. You’re not the one being shipped off across the country. I'm going to fry in the south, risking my life, while you’re here, enjoying the breeze over Lake Quannapowitt." His stance tells me he wants me to charge, so I run at him as fast as my bruised legs will move. Before I can blink, he hits me—hard—and with little effort he flicks me off like a bug. My back smacks into the slush and air rushes from my lungs. I lay down on the cool earth until I can breathe again."