The darkness was all-consuming, pressing in on me from all sides. I couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. And then, suddenly, I could.

I was at home, in our living room, but everything felt... wrong. The walls seemed to breathe, pulsing with a sickly light that made my stomach churn. And then I saw them. Mum and Dad, sitting on the sofa, but they weren't themselves. Their faces were twisted, almost cruel.

Mum's voice cut through the air, sharp as a knife. "Oh, Beth. You're still here, are you?"

I tried to speak, to ask what was happening, but my voice wouldn't work. It was like my throat had closed up, trapping the words inside.

Dad shook his head, his eyes cold and empty. "We thought you'd have done us all a favour by now. Don't you know what a burden you are?"

Each word felt like a physical blow. I wanted to cry, to scream, to tell them they were wrong, but I couldn't make a sound. I just stood there, frozen, as their words washed over me.

Then Meri appeared, pushing past me. But it wasn't my sweet little sister. Her face was hard, her eyes accusing. "Do you know how annoying it is?" she spat. "Being the kid in class whose sister is dying? I hate it. I hate you. Why can't you just hurry up and die already?"

I felt my legs give way, and I crumpled to the floor. This couldn't be real. It couldn't be. But the pain in my chest, the ache in my heart - it felt real enough.

The room started to spin, colours blurring together. When everything stopped, I found myself in the hospital. The walls were too white, too clean. The beeping of machines grew louder and louder until it was all I could hear.

And there was Nathan, standing at the foot of a hospital bed. But his smile was gone, replaced by a look of... pity. Just pity. Nothing else.

"Oh, Beth," he sighed, shaking his head. "Did you really think I loved you? How could anyone love something so broken, so... temporary?"

I reached out to him, desperate to prove him wrong, but my hand passed right through him. He might as well have been a ghost.

"I only stayed with you out of pity," he continued, his voice growing colder. "It was the right thing to do, wasn't it? Be kind to the dying girl. But God, it's exhausting. I can't wait to be free of you."

The beeping got louder, more frantic. I pressed my hands over my ears, trying to block it out, but the sound seemed to come from inside my own head.

Then I felt it. Something grabbing my ankle. I looked down and saw a hand, dark and shadowy, coming out of the floor. Then another. And another. They started pulling, trying to drag me down into the darkness.

I tried to scream, but still, no sound came out. The hands were everywhere, grabbing at my clothes, my hair, and my arms. And with each pull, I heard whispers. Countless voices hissing in my ears.

"It's time," they said. "Time to let go. Time to stop being a burden. They'll all be happier without you. Come with us. Come down. Down. Down."

I fought against them, trying to pry their fingers loose, but for every hand I got rid of, two more appeared. The darkness below me opened up like a giant mouth, ready to swallow me whole.

Then I heard them again. Mum, Dad, Meri, Nathan. But their voices were different now. Distant and distorted, like they were speaking from far away.

"It's okay, Beth," they seemed to say. "You can let go. We want you to. It's for the best."

The hands pulled harder. I felt myself slipping, inch by inch, into the darkness. I couldn't fight anymore. Maybe they were right. Maybe everyone would be better off without me. Maybe...

Just as the darkness was about to close over my head, I caught a glimpse of something shiny. My charm bracelet, the one Nathan had given me. It was glinting in the gloom, and something inside me sparked.

No, I thought. This isn't right. This isn't real.

With a strength I didn't know I had, I started fighting back. I kicked and clawed, struggling to pull myself up and away from the darkness.

"No!" I shouted, my voice finally breaking free. "You're wrong! I'm not a burden. I'm loved. I'm wanted. And I'm not going anywhere!"

The hands started to let go. The whispers faded away. Everything around me began to dissolve, turning into a whirlwind of colours and shapes. I felt myself falling, tumbling through space, and then...

I gasped for air, my lungs burning as if I'd been underwater for too long. The darkness of my bedroom slowly came into focus, the familiar shapes of my dresser and bookshelf emerging from the shadows. But the terror still gripped me, making my skin crawl and my heart race.

"Mum!" I screamed, my voice hoarse and desperate. "Mum!"

I heard hurried footsteps in the hallway, then my door burst open. Light from the hall spilt in, momentarily blinding me.

"Beth? Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Mum's voice was thick with sleep, but filled with concern.

I couldn't speak. The sobs that had been building in my chest finally broke free, wracking my body. Mum rushed to my side, perching on the edge of my bed and pulling me into her arms.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," she murmured, rocking me gently. "It was just a dream. You're safe now."

I clung to her, burying my face in her shoulder. She smelled like home – lavender soap and the faintest trace of her favourite perfume. Slowly, my breathing began to even out.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mum asked softly, smoothing my tangled hair away from my face.

I nodded, though the thought of reliving the nightmare made my stomach churn. Taking a deep breath, I began to speak.

"It was... it was awful, Mum," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "We were at home, but everything was wrong. You and Dad... you were saying such horrible things. That I was a burden, that you wished I'd..."

I couldn't finish the sentence. Mum's arms tightened around me, and I felt her shake her head.

"Oh, Beth," she breathed. "You know that's not true. Not even a little bit."

"I know," I said, wiping my eyes. "But it felt so real. And then Meri was there, saying she hated me. That she wanted me to hurry up and... and die."

A fresh wave of tears threatened to overwhelm me. Mum rocked me gently, her hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.

"It's okay," she murmured. "Let it out. I'm here."

So I did. I told her everything – about Nathan's cruel words in the hospital, about the shadowy hands dragging me down, about the voices telling me to let go. By the time I finished, I was trembling, and exhausted.

"But then," I said, my voice growing stronger, "I saw my charm bracelet. The one Nathan gave me. And something... something changed. I started fighting back."

Mum pulled away slightly, cupping my face in her hands. In the dim light, I could see the tears shimmering in her eyes, but there was pride there too.

"You're so strong, Beth," she said softly. "Even in your dreams, you're fighting. That's my girl."

I managed a watery smile. "I don't feel very strong. I'm still shaking."

"Being strong doesn't mean you're never scared," Mum said, brushing a tear from my cheek with her thumb. "It means you face your fears, even when it's hard. And you did that."

I leaned into her touch, feeling the last tendrils of the nightmare start to loosen their grip. "Will you... will you stay with me? Just for a little while?"

"Of course, baby. Scoot over."

I shifted, making room for Mum to lie down beside me. She settled in, wrapping an arm around me as I rested my head on her chest. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat was soothing, grounding me in reality.

"You know," Mum said after a few minutes of silence, "I used to have nightmares too. When I was pregnant with you."

I tilted my head to look up at her, surprised. "You did?"

She nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. "Oh yes. Terrible ones. I'd dream that something was wrong with you, that I couldn't protect you. I'd wake up crying, just like you did tonight."

"What did you do?" I asked.

"Well," she said, a small smile playing on her lips, "your dad would hold me, just like this. And then he'd talk to my belly – to you – telling you how loved you were, how we couldn't wait to meet you."

I felt a lump form in my throat. "Really?"

"Mmhmm. And you know what? It always made me feel better. Because even though the dreams were scary, they reminded me of how much I already loved you. How much I wanted to protect you."

I was quiet for a moment, letting her words sink in. "I think... I think that's how I felt in my dream. When I started fighting back. Like I remembered how much you all love me."

Mum pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "We do love you, Beth. So very much. Nothing – not cancer, not nightmares, not anything – can ever change that."

I nodded, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. We lapsed into a comfortable silence, the only sound the soft whisper of our breathing. My eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion of the night finally catching up with me.

Just as I was about to drift off, Mum spoke again, her voice soft and melodic.

"Do you remember that lullaby I used to sing to you when you were little? The one about the little bird?"

I smiled, a memory of countless nights just like this one flashing through my mind. "Yeah. Can you... would you sing it?"

"Of course, love."

And then, softly, she began to sing:

"Little bird, little bird, in the sky so blue, Spreading your wings, so brave and true. The wind may blow, the storm may rage, But you'll find your way, turn a new page.

Rest your head, close your eyes, Dream of rainbows and butterflies. When morning comes, you'll spread your wings, And soar above all earthly things."

Her voice was warm and rich. I felt myself relaxing, the tension draining from my body with each familiar word.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful that is," I murmured, fighting to keep my eyes open.

"Mmm," Mum hummed. "I used to sing it every night when you were going through that phase where you were afraid of the dark. Do you remember?"

I did remember. I'd been about six, convinced that monsters were hiding in every shadow. "Yeah. You told me that as long as I could hear your voice, nothing could hurt me."

"That's right," Mum said, her fingers combing gently through my hair. "And it's still true, you know. Not just my voice, but your dad's, Meri's... We're all here for you, Beth. Always."

I felt tears prick at my eyes again, but this time they were tears of love, of happiness. "I know," I whispered. "I love you, Mum."

"I love you too, sweetheart. More than you could ever know."

As I hovered on the edge of sleep, I found myself thinking about the nightmare. It had been terrifying, yes, but maybe... maybe it had also shown me something important. That I was stronger than I'd realized, that I had the power to stand up to my fears.

The thought was comforting, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. I snuggled closer to Mum, letting the steady rise and fall of her chest lull me towards sleep.

Just before I slipped under, I heard Mum's voice once more, soft and gentle.

"Sweet dreams, my brave girl."

And then I was asleep, carried away by much sweeter dreams.

When I woke the next morning, sunlight was streaming through my curtains, painting my room in shades of gold. For a moment, I was disoriented, the events of the night before feeling hazy and distant.

But then I felt a warm weight beside me and turned to see Mum still there, fast asleep. Her face was relaxed, peaceful, a few strands of hair falling across her cheek.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, I slipped out of bed. My legs felt a bit shaky as I stood, reminding me of how intense the nightmare had been.

I padded over to my window, pushing the curtains aside to look out at the world beyond. The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the old oak tree in our backyard, and I could hear birds singing their morning songs.

It was beautiful. Ordinary, yes, but beautiful in its simplicity. And it was real – more real than any nightmare could ever be.

I took a deep breath, feeling it fill my lungs.

The nightmare had tried to drag me down into darkness, but I had fought my way back to the light.

And now, standing here in the warm glow of a new day, I knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, I would face them. Not fearlessly, perhaps – fear, as Mum had said, was a part of life. But with courage, with love, and with the knowledge that I was never truly alone.

I was the little bird, spreading my wings. And I was ready to fly.

"Beth?" Mum's sleepy voice came from behind me. "Everything okay?"

I turned, smiling at her rumpled, half-awake form. "Yeah, Mum. Everything's okay."

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "No more nightmares?"

I shook my head. "No more nightmares. Just... good dreams."

Mum patted the bed beside her, and I went over, sitting down. She wrapped an arm around me, and I leaned into her side, just like I used to do when I was little.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked.

I thought for a moment. "I dreamed I was flying," I said slowly. "Over fields and forests and cities. And everywhere I went, there were other birds flying with me. Different sizes, different colours, but all of us together."

Mum squeezed my shoulder. "That sounds lovely."

"It was," I said. "And I wasn't scared at all. Even when we flew over stormy seas or through dark clouds. Because I knew I wasn't alone."

"You never are," Mum said softly. "Even when you can't see us, we're always with you."

I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I know. And... I think I finally believe it. Really believe it, I mean."

Mum pressed a kiss to my temple. "I'm glad, baby. So glad."

We sat there for a while, watching as the sun climbed higher in the sky. The house began to wake up around us – I could hear Dad moving around in the kitchen, the clatter of pots and pans telling me he was making breakfast. Meri's music started playing from her room, some peppy pop song that made me smile.

"I should go help your dad," Mum said eventually. "Before he burns the toast again."

I laughed. "Probably a good idea."

She stood up, stretching, then looked at me with a soft smile. "Will you be okay?"

I thought about it for a moment. About the nightmare, about the fear that had gripped me. About the love that had chased that fear away. About the strength I'd found, even in my dreams.

"Yeah," I said, and I meant it. "I'll be okay."

As she left the room, I turned back to the window. The day was fully awake now, full of promise and possibility. I took another deep breath, feeling it fill me up – not just my lungs, but my whole being.

I was Beth. I was loved. I was strong. And whatever came next, I was ready to face it.

Spreading my wings, brave and true.