Okay, my comments will be in red, and if I'm commenting on something particular, I'll mark it with yellow, like this

DEDICATION : To Lisa, my new beta reader. She gave me the inspiration for me to turn my short story "Knowing" into this fan fic and helped give shape to this. Couldn't have done it without ya!

DISCLAIMER : I don't own any of this apart form Maria, Phoenix and Auriga. The Matrix and all its characters etc are owned by the Wachowski brothers or WB. I'm not making any money out of this – I write for my own amusement (and hopefully others).

WARNING : The first part of this is practically the same as the beginning of my story 'Knowing'. Just to let you know you're not experiencing a glitch in the Matrix ; )

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Fear is the force that drives us through life. It dictates to us where we work, where we live, even who our friends are. It attacks us at every level: right from the fear of people laughing at us, to the fear of losing our lives.

Perhaps the greatest of all these fears is the fear of the unknown. The fear of something we can't quite understand. This is mankind's motivation. We learn, so we cannot be afraid anymore. We seek to find out the truth beyond everything.

No matter where it takes us.

* * * * * * *

It was one of those cold, grey and gloomy days that most people hate. The type of day where people only go outside to get somewhere else warm and dry. The type of day that children hope doesn't happen, because being indoors is not nearly as much fun as playing tag outside.

Maria however, liked this weather. She loved going home from it and feeling that sense of cosiness that only autumn and winter can bring. She loved watching the rain from her window, drinking hot chocolate made by her mother.

The classroom only intensified that feeling. The sound of her classmates talking at the end of the day, the scratchy green carpet underneath her; moments where nothing bad can touch you.

The teacher was playing the class a musical, synthesised version of H. G. Wells' War of the Worlds. It was supposed to inspire the children to write their own version. All of them were laughing and imitating the music's computerised voices and instruments.

Except for Maria. Something within the music stirred up feelings in her that she didn't know she had. She couldn't explain them: all she knew was that they frightened her. She was suddenly aware of how fragile life was, and how quickly it could be taken. Her heart began to beat faster.

The end of day bell went, and the rest of the children ran outside, eager to get home before the rain came. Maria hardly said goodbye to her friends: they all lived in the opposite direction to her. She started to walk to the outside door and paused just inside, shivering slightly.

If I go outside, she thought, I'll be exposed to everything. If I stay inside, I'll suffocate. The air around her had grown thick and choked her.

She barely remembered the walk home. The only thing that really stood out was when she was looking out across the empty playground she had to cross and how much she had to concentrate on each step. She had never realised how infinite the sky was, and now it seemed too big, too massive to comprehend.

She somehow made it home, still shaking. Usually her mother was there to greet her when she got in, but she wasn't today. The first thing she did was turn the television on. The house was too large, too quiet. It didn't feel safe enough, and it seemed incredibly important to have voices around her, as if they would create a wall of sound around her and protect her.

The TV was not enough, the wall too thin, so she switched on her brand new stereo system. An Icelandic singer warbled out a song about throwing plates off a mountain.

The sounds calmed her heart slightly, but did nothing to qualm the panic rising in her. Eventually when her mother came home, the girl switched the tape off and tried to behave as if everything was normal; believing it would be, now that her mother was home. She was still young enough to believe that everything could be cured by her mother's touch.

Her mother was a church organist and took her daughter to the choir practise. Maria didn't want to be left alone and thought she might feel better in a different environment, full of people.

She was wrong. The muffled voices of the choir, the muted lights of the church and its candles, and most importantly the darkness outside, all built up the fear until the girl was almost paralysed with terror. Sitting in the pews, she suddenly understood how the people in medieval times felt when the plague raged around them, and God and death walked hand in hand. She was suddenly sure that there was a God, there had to be a God, or else what was the point of it all?

The air became more and more thick, and she felt as if she were trapped inside a glass prison, able to watch everyone else get on with their lives but unable to participate. Everything was terrifying and new, like she was seeing a whole new world. Everything around her, the air, the sound of the choir's voices, were solid and real enough to touch.

She was also aware that maybe what she was seeing was not real. They had been talking in class about the body, and she knew that she did not really see or hear or touch anything, but rather her brain interpreted it and was capable of twisting it to what it wanted to see or hear or touch. She had heard it in class, but suddenly she fully realised what it meant: she could not be sure of anything around her. What was reality? More importantly, what was her reality? Maria tried to stop these thoughts, but she had opened a door in her mind, and now it would not close. A Pandora's box all of her very own.

She was terrified by her own despairing thoughts. Her panic grew and grew, until she could not sleep unless there was someone else in the room and even then she found it hard. Night was the one time when she couldn't shut out the thoughts and feelings she had, and they consumed her. The only thing she was sure of was that nothing could be certain.

During the first few days of her 'madness' Maria asked her mother how long this feeling of uncertainty would last (after all, at that age, your mother knows all). Her mother had soothingly replied that it would all be gone by the end of the week.

It wasn't. Maria could never be sure how long her fear lasted but it was much longer than a week. Months in fact. A dark spot in the otherwise bright memories of her childhood.

The days all faded into a single haze of forgotten nightmares. She found it hard to distinguish between her waking life and her dreams, and discovered that she didn't actually care. Everything was the same: she would do the same things every day, with the same fear and doubt lurking beneath her outer composure.

There was one memory that stood out from all the rest. She could remember it with frightening clarity.

She had been walking to school, trying not to think of the day ahead. She felt that she couldn't stand another day of this panic, this awareness of the world around her. She could feel her mind slowly unravelling with every passing moment, and she knew that any second now, it would suddenly snap and she would be left spinning into her own world. Something had to change, she decided suddenly, and soon.

She cut through the churchyard on the way to school. She hadn't done so for a long time because of the blind terror that churches gave her, but she did so that day. She needed change from her usual life, and even a small one like that helped her brain regain control over itself.

It was a beautiful day and the girl smiled to herself.

I'm walking through a graveyard and I'm okay. Maybe I'm getting better. She doubted that somehow. Part of her didn't want to get better, and it was that part that frightened her.

Her smile quickly faded when she saw the man and woman standing near the gate at the opposite end of the graves. She had become shyer lately and found it hard to be near strangers, let alone strangers dressed like they were. You didn't often see people looking like that in her sleepy little town. People who dressed in black and wore sunglasses, even though the sun was not strong enough for them. People whose confidence in themselves was so powerful you could practically smell it.

The girl felt intimidated by them and looked at her feet, at the gravestones, anywhere but the man and woman. As she walked past them she could feel their eyes watching her back, but they made no other movement. Their silence unnerved her. She decided that when she got to school, she would tell her teacher about the two people. She had heard many stories about strange people like these, and not many of them were good. Her heart was beating so powerfully she was sure they could hear it.

She had just made it past them when she felt a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to stop.

"Maria, wait. We want to talk to you." The voice was female and judging from the accent, American. What are Americans doing here? she wondered idly. The hand stayed firmly on her shoulder so she could not run. Maria turned to face the voice and saw that the woman had taken off her sunglasses and was smiling gently at her. The man stood a few feet away, frowning. She couldn't see his eyes but she was certain that he was staring at her.

"I-I have to go. I'll be late for school - "

"School? This early?" said the man suddenly. He nodded up to the church tower clock, and the girl gasped when she saw that it read eight o'clock.

That can't be right, I left the house at eight, it takes 15 minutes to get here, the bell should be ringing -

Maria tilted her head and squinted up at the man. He smiled innocently, and she knew that somehow, he had performed this trick.

"You have plenty of time to talk to us, Maria," said the woman, kneeling beside the girl so that their eyes were level with each other.

"How do you know my name?" asked Maria shakily. The situation had spiralled out of her control, and she somehow knew that it would be useless to run now.

"We know a lot about you. We know that you're afraid, Maria. You don't know what you're afraid of, but it's still there."

"Like a splinter in your mind," added the man dryly. The woman gave him a sharp look, and he ducked his head slightly. He still hadn't removed his glasses, but it was obvious that he was uncomfortable with the situation.

"How do you know that?" Maria whispered, her voice cracking slightly. Nobody knew how she felt; not even her mother had a full idea of how desperate she had become.

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that we can help you. We can provide you with the answers you're so desperately looking for. We can show you what the Matrix is."

"The what?" Tears were sliding down Maria's face, and she was shaking. The fear inside of her was growing with every word the woman spoke. Part of her wanted to run to school, no matter how early it was, and tell an adult what had just happened, so they could phone the police and arrest these bad people. But another part of her wanted to stay. It was the part of her that doubted she would ever forget her fear.

Stay, it whispered, stay, these people can help you, they know how you feel, perhaps they've experienced this fear as well. They can take the fear away.

The woman took Maria's hand. "Do you want to know what it is?" The girl nodded dumbly.

"The Matrix is your fear, Maria. It is everything around you, your bag, your school, even these gravestones."

Maria looked at them carefully. "Are you the Matrix?" she asked, not exactly sure of what she was asking. The man laughed startling her.

"No," he smiled. "We are in the Matrix, but not a part of it."

"Neo!" hissed the woman, clearly annoyed.

The man held up his hands defensively. "Sorry."

The woman sighed and turned back to Maria. She looked at her eyes for a while.

"We cannot tell you exactly what the Matrix is… you have to see it with your own eyes." She stopped and looked intently at her. "Do you want to see it?"

Maria looked at the woman and then at the man. He was frowning at her again, and she quickly looked away.

"Will… will the fear go away?" she asked, voice cracking.

"I can't guarantee you that," said the woman somewhat sadly. "But you will understand it and know why you feel it. And believe me, that can make all the difference."

The girl looked around her at her surroundings. She was silent for a moment.

I cannot be afraid of what I know and understand. That's what this fear is, isn't it? Fear of the unknown. She was surprised to realise that for once all the different parts of her seemed to be agreeing. Go with them.

"Maria? Do you want to come with us?"

"…Yes," said Maria staring at the man. He shook his head. The woman put both her hands on the girl's shoulders.

"I want you to understand that you cannot go back. Once you have made this decision, you cannot go back to this life -"

The girl laughed hollowly. "This is not a life."

The woman nodded slowly. "I know. But this is the biggest decision you have ever made -"

"Trinity," said the man suddenly. He had taken his glasses off, and Maria was surprised to see the worried look in his eyes. At first she couldn't see what he could be worried about. After a moment she realised that it was worry for herself. "You're frightening her."

The woman glanced up at him with an expression that seemed to say, "don't interfere". He swallowed but kept his head up this time. The woman turned back to Maria.

"You cannot go back. Not to your house, not to your friends… not even your parents."

Maria jumped when she heard that. She bit her lip in thought. Then she looked up at the woman.

"But I would know, right?"

The woman nodded. "Yes. You would know."

The girl nodded. "Alright," she whispered, trying not to think of her parents. "I want to know."

The woman smiled slightly and stood, taking Maria's hand. She looked over at the man and nodded to him.

"Let's go." Her tone had turned clipped and business like, and Maria wondered what she was doing, going off with strangers. It went against everything she had ever been taught, and yet it felt right somehow. She felt strangely secure in her position, more so in fact than the man did. He was frowning again, staring down at the glasses in his hands.

"Neo," said the woman impatiently.

"No," he said looking up at her, his face set.

"What?" The woman said it with the tone of voice that let Maria realise that she did not often have this man say no to her.

"I won't do it, Trinity."

"What are you talking about?"

"I won't do this to her. Look at her, she's only eleven! She doesn't understand what we're doing -"

"She understands enough. She has a right to know." They were both talking as though the girl was no longer standing there beside them. She frowned. She hated it when grown-ups did that.

"She isn't ready." The man's tone was quiet and allowed no argument. However, the woman ignored it and glared at him.

"Morpheus believes she is ready."

"What makes Morpheus the authority on this?"

"Neo!"

"Trinity, look at her! Let her have her childhood." The last words were spoken with a slight tremble in his voice.

The woman glanced down at the little girl holding on to her hand and her expression softened. "Neo, things will only get worse if she stays here. We both know that. The truth is better than a lie."

The man looked at the girl sadly.

"You cannot stop this. She is a potential; somebody else will pick her up if we don't. You know that." The woman's voice was final and the man looked away in defeat. The woman reached out with her other hand to touch the man's arm, but he took a step back.

"I'll have nothing to do with this," he hissed. "I want no part of it."

"Neo…" she said gently. He simply shook his head and took a step away from them. Maria blinked and suddenly he wasn't there. She looked around her in bewilderment and saw that the woman was staring skyward. The girl followed her gaze and stared in astonishment at the figure quickly disappearing into the blue.

The woman shook her head sadly and then turned to Maria.

"Do you still want to know what the Matrix is?"

"Yes."

The woman nodded and led her towards the church door.

"Why are we going in there?" asked Maria, still fearful of churches.

"Because everything is prepared in there," said the woman absently, obviously still thinking of the man. The girl hesitated over the church threshold, pulling her hand free.

"Come on, Maria," said the woman gently. "You have to trust me." She held out her hand.

Maria looked up at the woman and then, taking a deep breath, grasped hold of the outstretched hand.

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Well, let me know what you think! Feedback is always appreciated…