“Don’t jump, it’s too dangerous,” Jack pleaded, grabbing my arm. “Let me come with you.”

“I have to do this in my own. I started this, and now I have to end it.”

He sighed, giving me one last look of desperation and let go, and without looking back, I jumped.

Plummeting 5,000 feet to your impending doom is a lot less scary when you’re dreaming. It was still terrifying though. I could hardly even dream anything into existence, besides a few small pieces of fabric, but nothing big enough to cushion my fall.

I’m going to die, I realized. I had been too sure of myself, thinking I could do this on my own. I should have brought Jack, he could’ve dreamed something into existence.

“Focus,” a voice inside my head told me. “You don’t have much longer.” I snapped into focus.

“Dream a bigger dream,” I whispered, repeating the words my mother had said to me a thousand times.

Less than 1,000 feet until impact. I didn’t have much time.

900.

800.

Nothing was happening, no matter how hard I focused.

“Dream a bigger dream!” I yelled, hoping maybe the gods could hear me.

They didn’t.

600.

500.

“You’re not going to die,” the same voice whispered. “Dream a bigger dream.”

I pictured being back at home, with my parents at the circus. I remember my mom dreaming living creatures into existence: unicorns, mermaids, things no one thought possible. That blood was in my veins now.

300.

200.

100.

Impact.

My bones didn’t break as I expected them to. Instead I landed on something soft. A giant pillow.

I had done it! I had dreamed!

“Dream a bigger dream,” the voice whispered to me one last time.