Slowly I gained consciousness, registering everything and forcing my brain out of the wonderful hibernation that is sleep.

Sleep, I thought, what a wonderful place, maybe I'll just go back there...

"Catie get out of bed NOW!!!! It's twelve o'clock and I don't care if it's your birthday, you are going to get out of bed this instant and you are going to get ready because your family is going to be here in one hour!!!" Gee, thanks for yelling at me from the bottom of the stairs mom. Then again, that's the better option. I shuddered thinking of her coming up the stairs to yell at me. With the cold water and the brutal tearing the covers off in the middle of February. That would so not be fun.

Sighing, I forced myself out of bed, down the hall, and into the shower. It felt good enough, like sleep. Too bad I had to get out. I dried my hair until it was flat, dry, and normal in all of its annoying in-between-blonde-and-browness. I mean really? Is it so hard to pick one color? Stupid hair. My pale blue eyes understood the concept. No green in them, or brown, or violet, or yellow, just blue. Why couldn't hair be that cooperative?

Okay, so it wasn't really the hair's fault I told myself as I threw on my favorite pair of jeans and a navy blue t-shirt. Eyeliner, mascara, and then the doorbell. Great.

It wasn't that I didn't like my family, it was just that they were so... okay, let me describe it. Or try. Words usually fail me on this subject. My mother is psychotic and I swear she's bipolar, my dad is a total nerd with all his technology crap, and my brother is the annoying sociopathic loser who always knows just how to annoy me until I all but bite his head off, when my mother becomes her crazy self and gets really mad. And that's just the immediate family. My Aunt Cate is all goody-goody. Like, to the point where she gives you the 'OMG your a horrible person' look if you say the word 'stupid'. I swear she has a copyright on that look. Her husband, my Uncle Brian, once told me he should "rip my nose off". Enough said. Then there's their daughter Meaghan, who sings the most random songs. They're, like, about couches, or rugs, or her veggies. I mean really. I wouldn't mind except she gets really mad if you don't fall all over yourself to praise her for it, which could potentially result in the loss of your natural hair color. Her older sister Grace is crazy obsessed with her boyfriend who, lucky me, lives one neighborhood away. He's an obnoxious jerk who throws gum at people. Not... that that's ever... happened to me before. Aunt Ally is pretty cool. She makes jewelry and stuff and Uncle Jimmy is pretty awesome. Their kids, however, are a different story. Arden is pretty obnoxious as far as little kids go and cries about everything and Porter just randomly bites people. The rest of the family is okay I guess.

I walked downstairs and got the door open about as slowly as humanly possible.

"Hey Grace! Aunt Cate! Uncle Brian! Meaghan!" Wow, I was really surprised that they didn't hear the lack of sincerity in my words.

"Hey! Happy Birthday!" They all stated in some crazy pre-programmed voice, like robots, with all this emotion, yes, but exactly the same each and every time.

Grace was last and she looked super excited, though it wasn't because she was happy for me. She just couldn't wait to see her boyfriend at the park later.

So when everyone else arrived, I came up with the wonderful idea that Grace and I should take Arden and Porter to the playground. Of course everyone agreed.

Sam, the loser boyfriend, was already there and he and Grace went off to do whatever it is thirteen year olds do while I played with my littler cousins for about an hour.

Then, thankfully, my mom called and said it was cake time. Yay for cake!

So we all went back to my house, much to Grace's dismay, and, low and behold, I got more gum thrown at me for being the messenger. We got back, ate the cake, I opened presents, which included money and a cruise, I said thank you, everyone left, I watched The Phantom of the Opera, and went to bed.

I had a wonderful dream in which Sam got eaten by a dragon and my cat viscously attacked my brother. Yes, violent, but it was more one of those weird dreams where its kind of fuzzy and you don't actually see it, you just know it happens.

But then the dream, and the wonderful sleep started to fade and I groggily opened my eyes. Then I snapped bolt upright.

This wasn't my room. My room was sky blue, not stone. There were books everywhere and I definitely didn't have any paintings in my room. This room had no books, though there was a major dragon theme going on here. Even though there was only a small candle burning on a little side table, I could make out some things. There was a deep red rug on the floor, richly embroidered with a gold dragon, a dragon statue with ruby red eyes, and various other paintings and figurines, all about dragons. The only thing that wasn't of dragons was a large painting dominating the south wall. It was of a beautiful woman with long black hair, high cheekbones, and amazing, slanted blue eyes. She had pointed ears which, surprisingly, only added to her exotic beauty and in her delicate hand she held a rose. Her knowing eyes stared out of the window that definitely belonged in the room.

But this was nothing next to the imposing man that sat in the chair directly under the painting, staring straight at me with almost a father-like look on his face. Well, it would have been if not for the twisted cruelty that had already taken residence there.