Jake and the Book of Mirrored Thoughts

Jake pressed his nose against the window of the locked library. Nobody had entered the room since Grandad's death three months ago. Today, Mum had finally given him the key.

The door creaked. Dust motes danced in the sunlight between the tall bookshelves. Jake breathed in the familiar smell — old paper and Grandad's peppermint tea. His brown eyes wandered over the countless spines until they settled on a crimson cover. The book glowed faintly, as though it had been waiting for him.

With trembling fingers, Jake pulled it out. “Mirrored Thoughts” was written on it in golden letters. When he opened it, the letters swirled like wisps of smoke and rearranged themselves. Suddenly, he heard a voice inside his head: “At last you're here, Jake. I'm so afraid of the dark forest!”

Startled, Jake snapped the book shut. Had he really heard that? He opened it again. The page showed a princess with wild brown hair — just like his own — standing at the edge of a gloomy forest.

“I'm Princess Dornelind,” the voice said again. “And I can hear your thoughts!”

“That's impossible,” Jake whispered.

Thick mist billowed out of the book and took the shape of a dragon no bigger than a cat, whose scales shimmered like smoky crystals. “Wrong, young reader,” said Smokecrystal in a voice like crackling fire. “Dornelind isn't reading your thoughts. You're projecting your fears into her tale.”

Jake stepped back. “What does that mean?”

“The book shows you what's inside you,” the dragon explained. “Dornelind isn't afraid of the forest. You are.”

Jake felt his heart beating faster. Since Grandad's death, he had been afraid of so many things — the darkness in his room, his new school, being alone.

Suddenly, Dornelind leapt out of the pages and landed beside him. She was exactly his height and looked at him seriously. “I want to show you something,” she said, taking his hand.

The library changed around them. They were standing at the edge of the dark forest from the book. Jake wanted to run away, but Dornelind held him firmly. “Look closely.”

Shadows darted between the trees. Jake recognised their shapes — the moving boxes in his new room, his empty classroom, Grandad's empty armchair. Everything that frightened him.

“They only have as much power as you give them,” whispered Smokecrystal, who had landed on Jake's shoulder.

Jake took a deep breath. He stepped into the forest. The shadows drew back. With every step, it grew lighter.

“Now you understand,” Dornelind said with a smile. “Fairy tales don't just tell stories. They reflect who we are.”

When Jake found himself back in the library, he felt different. Lighter. The book in his hands glowed warmly. He would come back tomorrow, and every day after that. Not to escape, but to get to know himself.