I can't take this anymore.

She lies on her bed, numb from hours of crying. Her pillow is damp with tears. Music blasts from her earbuds, but she isn't listening to the song. She feels her heart beat to the cadence of the drums and vaguely tunes into the garbled lyrics. Just a few minutes ago, she had been sobbing loudly, her body shaking with hurt. Now she was tired, with enough energy only to softly weep on her bed.

She reaches for the tissue on her nightstand and blows her nose. At last, she could breathe again.

Jessie purrs next to her, snuggling his soft body against her. For the first time today, she smiles. Her cat always knew when she was upset. He licks her arm, soothing her.

Everything's gonna be alright. They might not be now, but I'm strong enough to feel better again.

She checks her phone for the time. 11 P. M. Once again, she would be crying herself to sleep. And even when she was asleep, she would still be anxious. Her sister had told her she spoke in her sleep, muttering a trail of no’s as if someone or something was chasing her.

To say that she had a shit day at school was an understatement. It was just her luck that math class was the first thing she had to sit through every day. Why don’t you just end my suffering and send me to hell already?

Now, some may argue that with the right teacher, math could be fun. But her class was mind-numbingly boring. The worst part was, she didn’t understand a thing that came out of her teacher’s mouth. Between her lack of sleep and the monotonous voice of her math teacher, she was on the verge of dozing off. She gives into sleep without a second thought and math class fades away with reality as she enters the dream realm. There, she was no longer a teenager faced with the everyday problems of school. There, she was a knight fighting a dragon, clad in metal armor.

"Nicole," the dragon roars, “are you paying attention?” The beast lets out a stream of fire, which she blocks with a shield.

Of course, I am. Now shut up and let me kill you. She pulls out her sword and pushes forward, stabbing the dragon. But her sword is no match for the monster’s impenetrable scales.

“Nicole, wake up.” The dragon was starting to sound a lot like her math teacher. “This is math class, not your house. WAKE UP.”

What is this math you speak of? I need to rescue the princess. She stabs the dragon again.

The dragon sighs. Slowly, his face morphs into her math teacher. “How many times do I have to tell you to WAKE UP? This is the third time you’ve fallen asleep in my class. I think it’s time to call your parents.”

Horrified at the strange combination of her math teacher’s head and a dragon’s body, she jolts awake only to face the devil himself.

“M-Mr. Hertz,” she stutters, adjusting her glasses. Heaven have mercy, this is worse than hell.

He stands there, crossing his arms. “Did you enjoy your nap?” Not this again.

She sighs, getting her rehearsed apology prepared. “Sir, I apologize for interrupting your-”

“No excuses,” he said. “I didn’t take on this job to deal with WORTHLESS children like you. It’s my job to TEACH, not to babysit or act as your nanny! It’s not only that you fall asleep in my class. Somehow, you aren't even able to comprehend the SIMPLEST of mathematical concepts. I mean, you must suffer from mental retardation.”

Tears prickle her eyes. Don’t cry. Not in front of this pathetic excuse of a teacher.

He smirks. “Aren’t you gonna say anything? This is the real world, sweetheart. You’ve had to leave the class more than once. And I bet this has happened with every other class, given your poor performance in all of them.”

Does he have access to my grades for other classes? Sensing her shock, he takes out a sheet of paper. “Yes, I do have your grades for your other classes. In fact, I have your entire academic record. All teachers have access to your grades. Shall I read them out loud?” How is this guy a teacher? Doesn’t this count as harassment? That son of a bitch … he’s going to humiliate me again. God, why does he always pick on me?

“Look, I had to leave those classes because of my anxiety-”

“Stop using your anxiety disorder as an excuse for your inadequate performance. You’re simply weak. You’re not good enough for this world,” he spits out. There was a collective gasp in the classroom.

Did he just say my anxiety is an excuse? What the fuck. No, I can’t take this anymore. I'm not the only one with anxiety in this class.

She stands up from her chair. Taking a quick glance at the whole class, she makes her decision: this was all going to end today.

She climbs to the top of her table, temporarily gaining a few inches above her teacher.

“Nicole, get down from there. You’re disrupting class,” he said, his tone immediately switching from mocking to stern. Not today, bitch.

“Sir,” she begins, “every day I have to deal with your verbal harassment and I try not to be a disturbance to your class. I know I generally get bad grades and I don’t perform well. But let’s face it: the only reason I get the lowest grades in this classroom is that you’re a shitty teacher.”

By now, Mr. Hertz’s face had turned an interesting shade of plum. “Nicole, mind your language. If you don’t get down in ten seconds, I’m sending you to the dean’s office.”

But she wasn’t done yet. “Do you think the reason I get bad grades is because I’m lazy? Do you honestly think I wanted anxiety? How can you even begin to understand what having this mental disorder means? Look, go ahead. Recite all of my terrible grades. But do not EVER think anxiety isn’t real or just some made-up excuse!”

Tears streamed down her face, but at this point, she didn’t have the energy to care. Her math teacher could only stare at her, speechless.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of what she was feeling, she gets off the table and runs out of the room. She hides in the girls’ bathroom until the next period starts, too afraid to go back into the classroom.

The day went on as it always did, with whispers trailing behind her about the incident in math class. God, I'm regretting everything. What if I get suspended? Or worse, expelled? After everything I did to get here, all my efforts are going to be wasted. It’s hard enough keeping friends in real life already. No. What if my only friend leaves me?

She voices all her worries to the guidance counselor. The woman listens patiently as Nicole recalls the events that had occurred in math class. She felt at ease in her presence, glad that someone would listen to her. You might be the only person that doesn't make fun of my fears, she thought. She felt relieved when the counselor said she would put in a word to the principal about Mr. Hertz.

“Will I get in trouble?” she asks, still feeling guilty about cursing her math teacher.

“No,” the counselor replies, “especially since he's been harassing you for months. You should've told someone sooner. This all would have built up to a breaking point eventually.”

“Sorry, it's just that Mr. Hertz is so intimidating. Sometimes I believe him when he calls me worthless,” she explains.

“I'll take care of all this. Don't worry about Mr. Hertz. Just get back to class,” the counselor reassured her.

She was grateful for the support she had in her life. Without her counselor, things could have easily turned ugly. In a weird way, she was one of the lucky ones. Everyone had an angel and devil on their shoulders, but she had two demons that refused to let her be. She just had the luck of having both anxiety and depression. She broke down in school frequently, overwhelmed by the stress of work and the expectations of her teachers. It’s why she had to leave her classes all the time. But at least she could leave. At least there were people who understood. But at the end of the day, as much as she weathers through all the inner turmoil, it doesn't change the fact that it was exhausting.

It was tiring for her to hold herself up, to stay strong and remember to take care of herself.

"You're worth so much," her friend told her.

"You don't matter," the world yelled at her.

Sometimes, she believed the latter more than the former. But who didn't? Who doesn't crack when the whole world seems to be doing everything it could to stop them from growing and feeling good about themself? In those moments, she slams her knuckles against the counter, hands shaking and hurting. The hurt made her feel alive and stopped her from sinking into numbness.

But what could she do when she was the chaos in her life? When her madness pressed against the edges of her vision and threatened to swallow her whole?

She was ashamed to admit that there were moments she ate the sadness away. And if she didn’t eat, she cried and hoped to the universe that her anxiety or depression wouldn’t hit her as hard the next day.

She curls up in her bed now, all cried out and wondering if there was something she could do to change her life. She plays with the amethyst necklace around her neck, soothed by the cool gem.

A hand rests on her head, stroking her hair. She doesn’t pay mind to it, even as it untangles her hair and grazes her face.

“Danielle, I’m going to be alright,” she said, thinking the hand belonged to her sister.

“Are you?” asked an unfamiliar voice. “Because you don’t look alright now.”

Her head snaps up. The mysterious woman removes her hand from her head.

“Who are you?” Nicole sits up on her bed now, taking in the woman before her.

The mysterious lady is tall and clothed in a white Greek-style dress, with blue gems adorning her long neck and pointy ears. She’s slim and delicate, reminding Nicole of a flower in bloom. Her gray hair grows to her waist, stick straight, but her face is smooth, free of any wrinkles. Stars dot her cheeks, silver and glittering.

“My name is Lillian,” she said. At the sound of her name, her form glows. She sticks a hand out to Nicole.

Nicole takes her hand hesitantly. “What are you?”

“It’s hard to say. Some have called me a fairy, though I lost my wings a while ago. Some say I’m a vampire, but I’ve never had to drink blood. I prefer ‘goddess’ if you don’t mind.”

Lillian had a beautiful voice, so beautiful that Nicole could have listened to her forever. The goddess snaps her fingers in front of her face, breaking Nicole out of her trance.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “you’re just so … everything about you …”

Lillian looks at her, confused. “I’ve only ever had this effect on men.”

She blushes fiercely. “I’m bi so that might explain it.”

“Bi?” Lillian looks at her quizzically. Then it dawns on her. “So you’re a daughter of Sappho. Well, that’s no excuse to be so weak to a woman’s charms.”

“What are you doing here?” She tries to change the subject from her sexuality.

“I heard you weeping from beyond the veil of the night and I thought there was something we could do for each other. You’re not happy here, are you?”

She shakes her head. She was miserable and living was just brief moments of avoiding that misery.

“I can change that. In exchange for a single favor,” Lillian said with a strange gleam in her eyes.

“What makes you think I’m going to agree to that favor?” She was suspicious of this strange woman and her hidden intentions.

“I’ll cure your cat if you do,” she offered. “I’ll take the cancer cells out of his lungs.”

Her eyes widened. How did she know? Next to Nicole, Jessie coughs. Her baby looked so miserable that it softened her heart. She’d do anything for him. But still, the offer sounded too good to be true.

“Prove it,” she said. “Curing cancer takes a miracle. If you can really heal him, you’d do it on the spot.”

Lillian crosses her arms. Then she huffs, her fingers glowing. “I won’t do anything for free. How about I do something else instead to prove my abilities?”

Nicole shrugs. “Show me some magic, pretty lady.” Her hands reach for her phone, ready to call the cops in case Lillian turned out to be some weird kidnapper.

“Very well then.” Lillian’s fingers glow, pointing to her bed. The tissues on Nicole’s mattress rise, floating in the air. The goddess snapped her fingers and suddenly, the tissues were pale white butterflies fluttering around their heads. “Do you believe me now?”

She nods, awestruck. “What do you need me to do in return?”

“I’m glad you ask,” Lillian said. “You see, I’ve got an enemy that I can’t seem to find, someone who’s hiding within the very fabric of space and time. I’ve tracked him down to a specific era in another dimension. It’s practically identical to this universe’s Victorian era.”

She brings out a shiny dagger from the folds of her dress. “My enemy is a demon. Kill him and I will finally be able to rest.”

“But what about my family?” Nicole knew she couldn’t just leave her mother and sister behind.

“I’ll take your place for as long as you need to complete the task. Do we have a deal?” She presses the dagger into Nicole’s hands.

She stares back at her cat. Her hands close around the dagger. “Deal.”

Lillian smiles. “Very good. To get to that dimension, I’m going to need you to carve a portal with that dagger I gave you.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” She looks at the dagger in her hands, watching the light dance on it.

Lillian moves closer to her, placing her cold hands over her. She guides the dagger in Nicole’s hands, drawing out an intricate shape. A strange symbol glows in the air before them.

“You won’t need to do this to get back. Once you spill the demon’s blood on this dagger, it’ll take you right back here.” She shapeshifts, taking Nicole’s form.

“Do I just go into that?” Nicole points to the still glowing symbol.

“Yes,” Lillian said. “Have a nice trip.” She shoves Nicole into the portal.