Author's Note: Hello, and welcome to my fan fiction! This is my first ever fan fiction, so I hope anyone who reads it will enjoy it. I realize this first chapter is rather short, but trust me when I say they will lengthen as the story goes on. Right now, it's more a prologue than anything. Please leave any comments or reviews, I would greatly appreciate them!

Chapter One: Restless

Sarah Williams awoke with a startling jolt. Sweat coated her face; her dark hair stuck messily to her check and forehead, her heart palpitating so hard against her chest she feared it might break free of her body any moment. Whatever was in her dream was a mystery, but to give such a startling wake, she knew it couldn't be anything pleasant. A faint voice still rang softly in her ears, a familiar, yet distant sound speaking her name. There had four experiences like this one, each exactly the same and just as unclear as the first, all occurring at precisely the same hour: three a.m..

Collapsing back into the comfort of her bed, Sarah moaned, silently cursing these confusing occurrences which prevented her from getting any decent sleep. The voice grew fainter and fainter, until she could no longer hear it, and soon she drifted off once more into the realm of dreams.

† † †

It wasn't until seven in the morning that Sarah woke again, this time from the abhorrent buzzing of her alarm clock, like she did every Tuesday through Saturday. For an English major and part time barista, there were hardly enough hours for sleeping in. Lazily, she rolled out of bed to begin her busy day, which routinely began with making a cup of coffee. Following, she would dress for work, which required her extra plain white shirt, neatly ironed jeans, and a rubber band for her hair. Anyone who knew Sarah now, knew that her very ordinary outfit was an adequate representation of her lifestyle.

Sarah arrived ten minutes before her shift began as usual, and so did her friend, Amy, just a few minutes after. It was a small coffee shop that she was employed in, an insignificant little caffeine stop on the corner of a quiet street. Few customers ever came in, and the regulars that did stayed for long hours with lengthy books, and Sarah admired it. She could even say she felt comfortable, almost safe in it. For her, it was the perfect little word; everything she needed.

"Are you okay, Sarah?" Amy gingerly asked, moving aside her golden hair which Sarah so often marveled at. "You look a little down."

The two women stood behind the counter, tying on their spiral themed aprons. Sarah released a soft sigh.

"Yeah, I'm just tired," she admitted. "I didn't sleep too well last night."

"Don't tell me you had that wacky dream again," Amy worried with her brow furrowed, and her New York accent protruding only slightly from her voice. She continued after Sarah sighed yet again, "Maybe you 'oughta get checked out or something, Sarah."

"Nah," Sarah smiled, shaking her head, and looking down at her now safely fastened apron. "I don't wanna waste money at the doctor's for something as little as this."

"Well, at least take a day or two off," her friend tried to reason. "I'm sure Gary wouldn't mind…"

While Sarah was sure Gary, her boss, wouldn't mind, still she refused. She straightened out her garment, then ran a hand across her drawn-back hair.

"It's alright, Amy, I'm sure I'll be fine."

They both smiled, believing that Sarah would indeed be fine, but the day was far from over.

† † †

It was precisely at one in the afternoon that Sarah's day would go wrong. At first, all it was was a light tickling in her brain, the beginning of what she dismissed as an oncoming headache, but with time, it became worse. The solid edges of objects dematerialized to leave fuzzy colors and images imprinted in her vision. A gentle ringing, a sort of chiming bell reverberated about her eardrums, growing desperately louder by the moment, until she could hardly bare it.

She sunk to her knees without warning before Amy and several customers, her suddenly frail body throbbing with the vibrations of what her foggy mind could only interpret as some unknown force, and fear. Her friend's alarmed shouts crumbled into white noise as the world melted into a painful mix of harsh paints and faded bodies. And then, buried deep below the cerebral cortex of her brain, she heard a voice -that same voice which haunted her sleep, which rang so familiarly within her. That same voice she heard so long ago when she thought it was only a dream, and it spoke her name:

"Sarah."