Iliana heard her father mutter some words outside the door, but she was too far away, lost in this world that she wished was a nightmare. And then, she saw something she hadn't seen before.
Her mother. On fire. And Iliana knew that this was not a dream, nor a nightmare. This was happening right now, in her village.
The flesh ripping off of her mother, revealing milk white bones underneath, as her scream pierced the night. A flash of lightning was all it took, and her mother was felled.
Her mother who had stayed young, longer than the rest, who was the village elder. Who had fought many wars, and won all of them. That mother was gone.
Flames shifted into Iliana's vision, burning the roof. Catching the mattress on fire.
Iliana curled up under the bed, as safe as could be under its wire frame and did the only thing she could think of to do. Sleep.