CALLA'S P.O.V
I didn't think much about wishes anymore. Not since I was seven, when I whispered that wish into Dad's strange machine in our basement—half-science experiment, half-dream catcher. Back then, I wanted a friend who would never leave me. Someone who'd always be there, no matter what.
Now, at seventeen, wishes felt like childish things. Real life was about keeping your grades up, surviving Starlake High's social chaos, and trying not to get your heart broken.
But all that changed the night the meteors came.
---
It started with the sky. Mom and I were sitting on the porch, watching the sunset fade when streaks of light sliced through the darkness. It was a meteor shower, just like the weather apps promised—but these meteors left behind something strange. A soft, glowing dust that floated down like tiny stars, settling on rooftops, cars, and—unknowingly—on every inch of Starlake.
The next morning, school was buzzing. Not with the usual chatter about tests or weekend plans, but rumors and whispers about things that didn't make sense.
"Did you see the horse?" one girl said near my locker, her voice a mix of excitement and fear.
"What horse?" I asked, heart skipping.
"You know—the black horse. The one that appeared out of nowhere on the track field during practice yesterday afternoon."
I swallowed hard.
No one else seemed to know exactly where it had come from, but I did.
I was walking toward the field during lunch when I spotted it. Black as a midnight shadow, sleek and still, standing at the edge of the grass like it belonged there. Its mane shimmered with the same faint glow as the meteor dust.
It was impossible. But there it was—the friend I had wished for all those years ago.
---
The horse didn't seem scared of me. When I stepped closer, its deep eyes locked onto mine, steady and warm. For a moment, everything else—the noise of students, the chaos around me—faded away.
I wanted to reach out, but a voice pulled me back.
"Calla?" It was Ash Reyes, the school's resident science prodigy with his usual dark hoodie and that serious look like he was calculating some complicated equation no one else could understand.
"What are you doing out here?" I asked, trying to sound casual, though my heart pounded in my chest.
He glanced at the horse and frowned. "You saw it too, huh?"
I nodded. "It's... real. I think it's the wish."
Ash raised an eyebrow. "The wish?"
I hesitated, then let out a breath. "My dad's old machine—the one he was working on before he died. He called it the Wish Engine. It's supposed to make wishes come true, but it's never worked before. Until now."
Ash's eyes narrowed. "You don't think that glowing dust and the horse are connected?"
I shook my head. "No. I know they are."
---
The day moved in a blur after that. News spread about strange things happening all over campus. People getting sudden promotions, old flames reigniting, lost pets coming back to life. It was like a wish tornado had swept through Starlake High—and no one knew who or what was behind it.
At lunch, I saw Mia, the quiet girl from my chemistry class, surrounded by a crowd. Normally invisible, Mia was suddenly the center of attention—everyone wanted to be her friend, and she didn't seem to know why.
Later, a kid named Jordan, who'd been crushing on me since sophomore year, awkwardly confessed he liked me. It felt like a dream, but when he vanished the next day like a ghost, the nightmare started to sink in.
---
That night, I couldn't stop thinking about the horse. I snuck out to the track field, my breath visible in the cool air. The horse was there again, standing patiently under the moonlight.
I ran my hand along its neck, feeling the warmth beneath its glowing fur. "Why now?" I whispered.
The truth was, I didn't just want the horse because it was a wish come true. I wanted it because it reminded me of Dad—the man who believed in impossible things, who loved me enough to try.
But the horse wasn't the only thing that had come from Dad's machine.
---
The next day, Ash found me in the library, eyes glued to a dusty old book about quantum fields and reality theory.
"You're serious about the Wish Engine," he said, pulling up a chair. "It's not just folklore or a sad memory."
I nodded. "It's real, Ash. And it's waking up."
He frowned deeply. "If that machine is activating again... well, Calla, you need to be careful. Making wishes come true sounds amazing, but there's always a price."
"Like what?" I asked, but inside I already knew. Dad warned me about balance—that energy taken from one place meant chaos somewhere else.
Ash sighed. "Reality can't handle unlimited wishes without breaking. And when it breaks... people get hurt."
---
At school the next day, the chaos was worse. The football team was suddenly unbeatable, winning games no one expected. The drama club's new lead had perfect talent overnight. And all the while, strange glitches flickered in the air, like the world itself was pixelating.
During biology class, my friend Zara's phone started playing a recording of a voice she'd never heard before—a voice begging for help. The whole class froze.
"Wishes," I whispered to Ash later. "They're leaking out of control."
He looked grim. "Then we have to find a way to stop it. Before someone makes a wish they can't take back."
---
That night, I sat in my room, staring at Dad's old machine, now humming softly on the desk. It looked harmless—just a jumble of wires, blinking lights, and a cracked glass panel.
I traced my fingers over the faded label: *"Quantum Wish Field Generator."*
I wanted to believe I could control it. That I could keep the horse and fix the chaos at the same time.
But deep down, I knew wishes like these were never simple.
The horse outside pawed at the ground, eyes bright in the moonlight.
And I wondered: in a world where wishes come true, how much would I be willing to give up to hold on to mine?