I jolted awake, heart pounding. The remnants of a bizarre dream clung like cobwebs as my eyes adjusted to the dim light. Cool, damp earth pressed against my skin while dawn painted itself in cricket chirps and rustling leaves. The rocky outcropping loomed above me, a jagged silhouette against the brightening sky.

I sat up too quickly, and a wave of dizziness washed over me, leaving me disoriented. My vision blurred, the world around me tilting as if I were on a boat rocking in choppy waters, and a faint ringing echoed in my ears. My head throbbed, my tongue was dry and swollen, and my body felt heavy. It took me a moment to understand why, then reality hit me: withdrawal. My head throbbed, my skin burned, and my nerves screamed. My muscles ached and my stomach churned, a constant reminder of the agony that withdrawal brought. It felt like my body was betraying me, turning every movement into a struggle, and every breath into a fight for control.

"Perfect," I said, pushing my hand through my knotted hair. This is the very thing I didn't need.

I’d gone through withdrawal before, back when I thought I could handle anxiety without medication. Now, as I gathered my meager supplies with trembling hands, those old demons rushed back—strange dreams, disorientation, emotional turmoil. The timing was a cruel joke. My pills sat abandoned at the farmhouse, lost in the chaos of my escape. The portal, the armed thugs, the terrified refugees—it had felt like another withdrawal nightmare, but the cold rock beneath me and the chill morning air confirmed its reality.

Settling on a ledge overlooking the valley, I forced down the last piece of dried meat. The portal flickered at the edge of my vision, taunting me. I could search for another one—if others even existed—but my dwindling supplies and exhausted body told me otherwise. No, I needed to understand this one first.

I made my way back to the gang's camp, keeping low and hidden among the rocks. From my vantage point, I could see everything—the makeshift barriers, the armed guards, the desperate refugees pleading for passage. My stomach churned as I watched them turn away those who couldn't pay, leaving nothing but hopelessness in their eyes.

The scene confirmed what I already suspected—this portal was a way out. Salvation? Escape? A chance to start over? Or just another dangerous unknown, another gamble that could end in an even worse fate? I didn’t know, but the fear of staying trapped in this broken world outweighed my fear of the unknown.

That man who'd thrown himself through the portal—where was he now? Whatever lay beyond that swirling veil of light had to be better than this corrupt, dying world where even the remaining fragments of society had turned violent.

"Okay, Brendan," I said, rising from my observation point. "Time to put those years of being invisible to use." A direct approach would be suicide—those thugs weren't amateurs. But I knew how to wait, how to move unseen. I'd learned that sneaking out to the barn at midnight, finding peace among nickering horses and bleating sheep when people became too much. Now, instead of risking being grounded, I was risking a bullet.

The day crawled. I drifted in and out of restless sleep, haunted by dreams of the farm—my guitar strings creating miniature portals that sucked in the grazing cows, glowing-eyed figures chasing me through endless shifting mirrors. Each time I woke, the sun seemed frozen in the sky, mocking my mounting anxiety as withdrawal gnawed at my insides.

Each time I woke, it took longer to remember where I was, why I was here, and what I needed to do. The withdrawal symptoms grew worse, leaving me jittery, my nerves frayed. My hands shook, and a dull ache settled into my bones. I felt fragile, like I might shatter at any moment. But I forced myself to stay focused. I couldn’t let the withdrawal derail my plan. The portal—the portal—was my only chance.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

As the sun set, I crept toward the clearing where the portal stood. The thugs lounged around their campfires, their laughter and shouts carrying through the cool night air—no reason for them to be alert, not yet.

From behind a boulder, I watched the portal's swirling light cast otherworldly patterns across the landscape. Its hum vibrated in my bones, a siren song promising escape from this broken world. But between me and that beckoning light stretched open ground with no cover, the thugs scattered around their fires, passing bottles between them. My heart raced as I searched for an opening, a single moment of weakness in their guard.

I lay there for an hour, watching. My muscles ached from being in the same crouched position, but I didn’t dare move. Then, I saw it—a pattern. Now and then, their attention drifted. They’d pass a bottle, someone would tell a joke, and their eyes would glance away from the portal.

That was my chance. I’d wait for the next moment of distraction, and I’d make my move.

Time dragged on, each second an eternity. My heart pounded, the blood rushing in my ears. My body tensed, ready to spring into action. I replayed my route in my head, step by step, imagining myself darting from shadow to shadow, keeping low, invisible. Then, finally, it happened—one of the gang members dropped his bottle, and a slight commotion erupted around the fire as the others laughed and jeered.

I took a deep breath and darted from my hiding place. My heart thundered in my chest as I sprinted across the open ground, every footstep feeling too loud, too heavy. At any moment, I expected to hear a shout of alarm or the crack of a gunshot.

But nothing happened.

The portal loomed ahead of me, its swirling light growing brighter with every step. I was so close. Just a few more feet and I’d—

A hand seized my arm, yanking me backward with brutal force. I stumbled, threatening to fall to the ground, my heart slamming against my ribcage. My head snapped around, and I stared into the cold, gleaming eyes of one of the thugs.

"Well, well. I wonder what this is? A little rat trying to sneak through without paying the toll?" The stench of alcohol rolled off him with each menacing word.

My throat went dry, words dying before they could form. The gang's trap had sprung, leaving me caught between their weapons and the portal's swirling light. So much for my brilliant plan.

"Please, I... I have nothing. Just let me through." The words ghosted past my lips.

The man’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into my arm. His lips curled into a cruel smile. "No payment means no passage. That’s the rule. Now, what are you gonna do about it, kid?"

I felt the fear clawing at my throat, my mind scrambling for a way out. But then something strange caught my attention—the portal. Its light wavered, its swirling patterns becoming more erratic. I stared at it, watching as the once smooth, flowing energy seemed to crackle and shiver, the colours growing darker.

A chill ran down my spine. The portal is closing.

Desperation surged through me like a wave. I wrenched my arm free and, in one fluid motion, swung my guitar off my back—my last connection to home—and brought it crashing down on the thug's head. The impact jarred my arms as wood splintered against skull.

The man staggered backward, dazed, and I took my chance. I bolted toward the portal, my feet skimming the ground. Behind me, shouts of anger erupted, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps in pursuit.

The portal was unstable now, its edges fraying like fabric unraveling. The light pulsed, growing dimmer and brighter in erratic intervals. I was only a few feet away when something whizzed past my ear—a bullet. They were shooting at me now.

I ducked, stumbling over my own feet, but I didn’t stop. My breath came in ragged gasps as I hurtled toward the portal, every step feeling like it could be my last. My legs burned, my muscles straining as I pushed myself harder and harder. Each second seemed to stretch into eternity, the world around me a blur of movement and light.

"No, no, no. Don't close, not yet." My whispered words echoed in the silence.

I could see it—the other side. The light rippled like the surface of disturbed water, and beyond it, glimpses of something else. A world, maybe. A place that looked nothing like this one. Trees, vibrant and green, and a sky that wasn’t polluted with smoke and ash. A place of colour, of life. I felt the warmth of its proximity.

With one last burst of speed, I hurled myself at the portal. The moment my body contacted its surface, I felt a strange sensation wash over me, like plunging into freezing water. My entire body went numb, and for a brief second, everything went dark.

The world disappeared.