"I don't know why I am having these wounded dreams about Michael," Maria De Luca said to herself, waking up from another dream about Michael Guerin. Why since, she had left Roswell, was she having these dreams? She wanted to discern. She needed to know, because, she wanted to get back to sleep, so she could get ready for school in two hours.

She looked back at the prosaic reason, as to why she and her family had moved to Rawley, North Carolina in the first place. It was because, her mother, Pamela, that had suddenly wanted to duck and run, so she could go live in North Carolina, to be closer to her mother, while she was spending her possible last five months, dying on her deathbed. In the morning, she would be attending her first day at Rawley High School. She already had her school paraphernalia and her schedule for what classes, she was going to take and the credits that she would need, before she passed her school year.

Her memories and depression, brought back some time that she and Michael had shared together. She wanted desperately wanted to be back in Roswell with her friends, and allocate a few laughs and also go down to the neighborhood store and buy some sodas. She had also thought about her dreams to go to medical school in Roswell. With poise she skewed over the left side of the queen sized bed and put her hands onto the box that she had so dearly treasured and slid it out. It was her photo box that held all of her scrapbooks and photo albums. She hastily scanned each and every one, until she found the picture that she was in hopes of finding: the one of Michael and her together and homecoming. The memory of the dream now replayed in her brain. She needed to know the answers, to these dreams she was having.

Beep….beep….beep. Her stupid alarm clock went off. Not that she had been awake for the precedent two hours. She slowly dragged herself off the white colored bed and went to her closets to pick out what she was going to be wearing. She knew that the school mostly preferred white or black for the girls on the first day. She thought it was weird, that they did that on the first day. She remembered that Roswell would let you wear whatever you had wanted within rationale. She slid on her black jeans over her Hanes, and then her white polo over her covered breasts. She in addition went over to the mirror to audaciously brush her silky blond and brown hair. It wasn't the same; she wasn't near Michael or her other friends now. After all Michael had been her boyfriend. She wanted to go tell her mother how she felt, but she also knew the harangue that she would get for it. To her mother, Michael and all her other extraterrestrial friends were useless.