Hi there, everyone. Long time reader, first time writer. Just a little story I've had in the back of my mind. This is the first time I've posted a piece of writing publicly, so I'm a little nervous. It's just a short prologue-y thing, but feedback of all kinds is still very welcome :-) First chapter coming soon.

Nine Months.

PROLOGUE

She feels sluggish; arms heavy by her side. Talking is strange but she doesn't understand why. She is holding onto a stranger, he is supporting her because her legs aren't working properly. In the reflection of a passing window she catches a flash of red hair. It belongs to her, she knew that, but she doesn't feel like herself. How can I tell him I don't know what's going on? She trips as he drags her towards a house. Hands help her to her feet, voices swirl around her. Moving forward. Now she is inside, more people. Someone flops her against a couch. Sounds… strange sounds… Someone is trying to talk to her. He is in front of her, face slipping in and out of focus. She stares at his lips, the constant movement, before meaning registers. He is asking her name. My name... yes, my name… She opens her mouth to speak but the words don't come. She tries again, tries harder. A sound escapes, a murmur, but the word won't form. Something on her head. A hand. Her legs don't have time to react; she feels herself dragged into the next room…

Theresa snapped awake, wide-eyed and covered in sweat. A single word played on her mind. Alexandra. The dream had carried the divine feeling of prophecy, but she couldn't be sure—it wasn't like normal. Her future-visions had never been in first person. She was always the onlooker, never the subject, even when the prediction concerned herself. And yet she couldn't shake the feeling… it had felt so real!

The clock beside her flashed 3:38. She climbed out of bed and threw a robe over her pyjamas. A glass of water would help settle her mind. Downstairs, she was surprised to see the refrigerator door open, someone picking at the contents. The beacon light illuminated the culprit.

'Hey, Herry.' Theresa couldn't help but smile.

Herry immediately straightened up, slice of chocolate cake in hand. 'Uh... sprung?' He put on his best innocent face.

'Can't sleep, either?' She filled a glass from the tap.

'No way. I was having crazy dreams.' A flash of almost-worry crossed his face.

Theresa perked up. Perhaps she wasn't the only one?

'About cake.' Herry continued, shoving the whole slice into his mouth. He pointed at his mouth. 'This cake in fact!' He gave a self-satisfied nod and grinned. 'Problem solved!'

'Right.'

He continued to mumble at her through his mouthful. 'So what brings you out of bed this morning?'

She gave a wry smile 'Much of the same… crazy dreams. Nothing I can't handle, though.'

'I would suggest cake. And then more sleep. Speaking of which, goodnight.' Herry gave a bow and disappeared into the shadows, jaw still wrestling against the cake.

Thank you, Dr Herry. She didn't understand how anyone could have an appetite at this ridiculous hour; a year and a half of Brownstone living and Herry's strange eating habits were still as mysterious to her as they had been on day one.

She tried to distract herself with trivial thoughts such as these, but the name felt like it was etched into her bones.

Alexandra...

She shivered.