I stepped into the kitchen. Everyone was there, but no one said a word, and I didn’t want to be the first. I wasn’t exactly angry anymore, but I didn’t have the strength or eloquence to speak up without triggering another outburst.

I sat down and took census. My younger sister to my left, under the spell of silence but most likely clueless about the reason. My Dad across the table, not wanting to unleash the wrath of his wife or son by taking either side. And Mom, holding her tongue for now and avoiding eye contact, but I saw the glances that kept coming my way when she thought I wasn’t looking. No one moved to eat, so I decided to be first. I picked up the jug of water in the center of the table and started pouring my own cup.

It took me half a second to realize my cup was already full, and another half to stop pouring with a jolt. Luckily the water hadn’t spilled over, but it now formed an awkward bubble above the lip of the cup, daring me to try anything. A soft puff of surprise escaped my mouth before I remembered that I was sitting in a war zone. I glanced at my sister whose lips were pursed in a rapidly failing show of control. And I caught of twinkle of a smile from Mom before her face froze again. Dad’s eyes were moving between the cup, Mom, and me.

I couldn’t help it; I let out a laugh. This unleashed my sister’s giggles, but my own felt strange. It didn’t have the right balance of air, volume, and catharsis. It wanted to escape, but I must’ve forgotten how to laugh properly, so I tried again. It was like trying to scream into a pillow but not hearing anything yourself.

My mom raised her eyebrow at my robotic failure of a laugh, but that was enough. Her own composure shattered and she smiled for the first time in days. Her eyes dropped back down to her lap before slowly returning to mine. It was what I needed; she was soft and light again. It banished the gloom from the house and I could breathe again to laugh properly.

This is a scene from my dream just now. I want to capture the rest of the details here, in case it can become its own story.

Our main character – who in the dream was a girl but was replaced by a boy for creative reasons – has magic of some undisclosed and currently unimportant nature. The family knows this, but the non-magical part of the local community does not. In keeping with a theme of “us vs. them” and “protect your own” it is frowned upon for magical folk to date or be too close to non-magical people.

Her mother is trying to set her up with a boy from a prominent magical family, but she’s more interested in a non-magical boy who is certainly not wealthy. When the mom finds out about this it triggers a cold war between them, which is slightly ameliorated in this scene.