The sun hadn't even hit its highest point, and the house was already a whirlpool of noise. I made my way down the stairs, not exactly thrilled about facing the morning chaos, but too hungry to skip out on breakfast. Besides, I'd spent all night in that strange dreamland. There was this odd warmth lingering from it, like it had somehow filled me with more energy than usual. Just in time for breakfast drama, I guess.

Downstairs, it was as if the whole family had sprung to life without me. My brother was parked at the dining table, practically bouncing in his seat as my mom doted over him. I stifled a groan as I walked into the room.

"Ah, the golden child," I muttered under my breath, slinking into a chair on the other side of the table. But no one even looked my way. Of course.

Mom was completely focused on my brother, smiling as she handed him a plate piled with food that looked way more extravagant than necessary. "You'll need your strength for today," she said to him, her voice practically dripping with affection. "All the activities we have planned—"

"...Are so important, yes, we get it." I rolled my eyes and pulled the toast plate a little closer to me, grabbing a slice before anyone could notice I was even there. I wondered how long it would take for her to realize I'd spoken.

Nothing. Zip. My sarcasm slid right under her radar as usual, as if I were some ghost drifting around the table.

My brother looked at her, beaming like he'd just won the lottery. I couldn't help the snark that slipped out. "Anything special planned for me, or is it a 'find your own way' day?"

Mom's head turned in my direction, her gaze skimming over me like she'd just remembered I existed. "Oh, good morning, Alexia. I assumed you'd want some alone time since you're always...you know, busy."

Busy ignoring everyone, I thought, but bit my tongue. Instead, I flashed her a fake, sugary smile. "How thoughtful, Mom. Alone time is exactly what I wanted. Every teenager's dream morning, right?"

She raised an eyebrow, but she didn't respond to the sarcasm. Instead, she turned back to my brother, adding more syrup to his pancakes with this overly dramatic flourish, like he was royalty or something. I wondered if she'd keep going until his plate turned into a sticky swimming pool.

Grandma shuffled into the kitchen right then, her eyes flicking from Mom to me, a little smirk tugging at her lips. "Seems a little quiet in here for such a busy household," she said, glancing at my untouched plate. "A little too focused, if you ask me."

I snorted, taking a bite of toast. Grandma was the one person who got it, who got me. "Oh, it's focused alright. Laser-beam intense," I muttered, catching her knowing look. "But not in my direction, of course."

Mom glanced at us, her voice coming out sharp. "Really, Alexia? Can we not do this right now?"

Grandma gave her a look, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. "Do what, exactly?" Her tone was easy, calm, but I could see the spark behind her eyes. The look that said, Oh, I'm here for the showdown, honey.

"You know what I mean, Mother," Mom snapped, her face already starting to turn a bit pink. "The complaining, the attitude..."

I couldn't help myself. I leaned forward, feigning innocence. "Oh, I'm sorry, did my attitude ruin the mood? I'll be sure to go mope silently in a corner next time."

My mom threw her hands up, clearly losing whatever patience she'd started with. "I don't know what's gotten into you lately, Alexia, but we're not doing this. You're old enough to understand how family works."

"Oh, don't worry, I understand family dynamics perfectly." I shot back, my voice laced with all the sarcasm I could muster. "How could I not? I mean, I get this front-row seat to the 'Show My Brother Some More Attention' saga every single day. It's educational."

That hit a nerve. Mom's lips thinned, and her gaze hardened as she stared at me like I'd crossed some invisible line. "I do my best for both of you," she said, her voice tight. "And maybe if you had a bit more respect—"

I cut her off with a laugh, even though I knew it wouldn't help. "Respect? Right. Because I'm totally not worthy of even a fraction of the attention my precious little brother gets. Sure, Mom. Real fair."

Just as her mouth opened to fire back, Grandma stepped in, folding her arms with this calm, dangerous look. "Now, hold on just a minute," she said, her voice slicing through the tension like a hot knife. "If anyone here is lacking in respect, it certainly isn't Alexia."

Mom blinked, taken aback. "Mother, you can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm as serious as that stack of pancakes," Grandma shot back, gesturing to the plate in front of my brother, who had decided that staring at the table was the best survival tactic. "This girl has been nothing but a spectator in her own home. She's got every right to be a little ticked off. And maybe you need to start listening instead of brushing her off."

I watched my mom's face flush even redder, and part of me felt a spark of triumph, but mostly, I just felt tired. It was like a script we'd gone over too many times, and I knew every line by heart.

"I'm listening," Mom said defensively, even though we both knew she wasn't. "I just don't think this attitude is...helpful."

"Oh, you're listening?" I folded my arms, raising an eyebrow. "Then tell me, what did I just say?"

Her silence spoke volumes. She glanced down, muttering something about respect and tone and family values, but it was clear she'd checked out halfway through. She looked back up at Grandma, and I could see the frustration boiling up. "Mother, this isn't helping. You don't live here, you don't understand."

"Oh, I understand, alright." Grandma's tone was cool, unflinching. "And I'm not leaving until you take a good, hard look at what you're doing. She's your daughter too. Ignoring her won't make her disappear, and it won't make her problems go away either."

The room fell into a tense silence. My brother glanced between us, clearly torn between siding with me and not wanting to be on Mom's bad side. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "You know what? Don't bother." I pushed my chair back and stood up, looking down at my mom with a mixture of frustration and something else—something that felt like sadness.

"It's fine," I said, forcing a smile. "I'll just go do my 'alone time' thing, since that's apparently what everyone thinks I need. Enjoy the pancakes."

Without another word, I turned and walked out of the kitchen, but I could still hear Grandma's voice as she faced down Mom.

"You'd better hope this girl sticks around when she grows up," she was saying, her voice a quiet warning. "Because if you keep treating her like this, one day she might just disappear. And it'll be nobody's fault but yours."

I felt a pang in my chest as I headed back to my room, her words echoing in my mind. Part of me wanted to stay and argue, to shout and make my mom see. But I was exhausted, and right now, it was easier to walk away.

As I shut the door behind me, I couldn't help but feel like Grandma's words weren't just a threat—they were a promise. And the truth was, if things didn't change, I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep hanging on.

Now leaning back against my closed door, I took a deep breath, letting out a long, heavy sigh. Breakfast was... well, a disaster. It was one thing to feel invisible, but to be fought over like I was some misbehaving pet? 

Grandma's words still echoed in my head: One day she might just disappear.

That would be the dream, wouldn't it?

I half laughed, sinking onto my bed and glancing up at the dreamcatcher swaying softly above me. Usually, it brought me a sense of calm. Today, it just felt like a dare, taunting me to fall asleep and escape. 

Go on, it seemed to say, take a break from this mess.

My fingers drifted to the pendant, and before I knew it, I was rubbing it between my thumb and index finger. It was warm, almost like it had a pulse. My room felt far away; it was like I was slipping into something else entirely. I closed my eyes, letting my mind drift, and that familiar, inviting sensation tugged at me, drawing me down, deeper.

And then... warmth.

... Light.

I opened my eyes, blinking, and stared in awe.

I wasn't in my room anymore.

Instead, I was in the middle of a wide, open desert. The sand stretched out in every direction, shimmering in the sun. It looked like a field of jewels, glittering beneath a wide, blue sky. A few palm trees swayed in the distance, tall and proud, their leaves whispering secrets in the breeze. And just beyond them, like some kind of mirage, was an oasis—clear, perfect, as if someone had taken a slice of paradise and dropped it here for me.

Now taking a few steps forward, I let my toes sink into the sand. The ground was warm, almost like a gentle hug. And I felt... at peace. This place was quiet, yes, but not empty. It was as if it was holding its breath, waiting for me, as if it had been here all along, tucked away, and I'd just forgotten it existed.

I glanced around, half-expecting to see someone, maybe a figure in the distance or a bird overhead, but there was nothing. Just me and this otherworldly place. Yet I didn't feel lonely. In fact, I felt like I belonged.

I even closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of wild herbs and dried earth. This place—it was more than just a dream. It felt... old. Timeless, even. And I couldn't shake the feeling that it was pulling me in, calling to me like it had been waiting for me to return.

But then, just as quickly as it began, the warmth faded, and I was back in my room, clutching the pendant against my chest, its warmth still buzzing in my hands.

What had just happened?