This one-shot is based off a dream I had last Tuesday. Weird, right? Wait until you read it! Since it was based off a dream, some of the characters' behavior may seem a bit odd. Then again, would you expect it any other way? Send me any questions you have. Read & Review. It helps me write!

Disclaimer: The dream is mine, the characters are not.

Friday Night Fairytale

Little Edward may have been a mere five years old, but he was smart for his age. Not only was he reading and writing, he was an excellent pianist. He took pride in the fact that he could play songs that most grownups had never even heard of. Soon he would be starting Kindergarten. He couldn't wait to show all the other children how well he could read and write. The little, wooden bookshelf in his room was littered with books of all shapes and sizes. Some didn't even have pictures!

It was nearing seven o'clock, and Edward had taken his bath and found his favorite blue pajamas. His teeth were brushed and his soft, red-brown hair dried. When the little hand on his clock got to the seven, and the big one to the twelve, he would crawl into his warm, cozy bed and read a bedtime story with his mother.

The big hand was pointing at the eleven, so Edward padded over to his bookshelf. He studied each title carefully. The Three Little Pigs, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Green Eggs and Ham, Sam I Am... But then something caught his eye. There was a new book on the shelf. He picked it up and saw that the cover was black. There wasn't a picture or a title. Just black. He turned it in his hands and looked at the binding.

It had his name on it! Edward was written in a detailed script down the side of the book. Curiosity got the better of him and Edward carried the book to his bed. He opened it to the first page and saw a little paragraph written in pen.

Dear Edward,

This may not make much sense to you now, and it may be a little scary, but you're a smart kid. I am going to give you the chance of a lifetime! With this book, you can change a person's life. It's a special book though. Only you can see the words written inside, and only you can ever know what it says. It's a secret, okay?

Your Friend,

Alice

PS: We'll meet soon!

Edward's emerald green eyes widened in surprise. Chance of a lifetime? Secret? He bounced on his bed in excitement. He couldn't wait for story time! But wait! It was a secret. That meant his mother couldn't read it. What was he going to do?

Thinking quickly, Edward stuffed the mysterious book under his pillow and ran back to his bookshelf. The big hand was almost to the twelve; there was only one little line left. One minute. He grabbed the first book he saw—The Cat in the Hat—and scampered back to bed.

When the big minute hand reached the twelve, and the little hour hand reached the seven, Edward's mother strolled into the room. She pushed her rusted red hair over her shoulder and sat down on the edge of his green comforter. Edward vaguely noticed she was wearing her favorite pink and purple striped pajama bottoms with a white tank top. She'd told him once that his father got her those for their anniversary a few years ago. He remembered thinking it was odd that she got clothes when she could have gotten books and games and toys like he does. Clothes were boring.

"What book did you choose for tonight, Eddie?" She asked with a giggle. His mother knew that name bothered him, but she always said it anyway.

"Mom," he whined. Why did she always tease him like that?

She ignored him and picked up the book sitting beside him. "The Cat in the Hat? We read this one last week didn't we?" she asked speculatively.

Oops! They did. "I don't remember," Edward lied. The words just came out. He'd never lied to anyone before! Why now?

He remembered the secret book lying under his pillow and automatically looked toward it. His mother followed his gaze to the pillow and snatched it up, curious. He didn't even have a chance to stop her! "What's this?" she asked. Uh oh! He watched in horror as she opened to the first page. The secret! He tried to think up something to say, something distracting, but nothing came to him.

Edward's horror morphed into confusion as he watched his mother's face. The book was turned to the very first page, the one with the letter from Alice. He could see the words from where he was sitting, but his mother didn't. Her eyes traveled around the page, never stopping. She flipped through the book, never seeing any of the words typed on them.

His mother gave him an odd look before asking, "Where did you get this?"

"I don't know. I just found it on my shelf." At least he wasn't lying this time. He really didn't know where it came from.

"Alright, then. Did you still want to read or do you want to go to sleep?"

Eager to be alone again, Edward chose the latter. His mother set the black book on his nightstand and turned out his light. She gave him a kiss and left, keeping the door cracked open and the hall light on.

Edward chose to sleep, but he wasn't tired. Not at all. It was because of that book. It seemed to be calling out to him, luring him away from sleep. The book seemed to be staring at him expectantly, waiting to be read. "Chance of a lifetime..." "Secret..." The words echoed in his mind, temping him to reach out and grab the secret book, his secret book. But something kept him from reading it: "...it may be a little scary..."Why would it be scary? Is it a bad story? Would he have nightmares if he read it? There had to be more to it than that. Alice wrote that he could change someone's life, but whose was it? How could he change someone's life by reading a book? Why would that be "scary?" There was only one way to find out.

With a sudden surge of confidence—it couldn't be that scary—he threw off his comforter and crawled across his full-sized bed to his nightstand. Edward plucked the book up and sat back against the headboard. The light from the hall was bright enough to see the words on each page. He opened the book and skipped Alice's letter, moving on to the next page. That was where the real story began.

"Isabella was a vibrant, brilliant, young woman. She was tremendously popular among both the boys and girls at her school, be it elementary, middle, high school, or college. She could be a bit shy at times, and her coordination was often lacking, but to her friends those traits were always the most endearing.

"Life for Isabella Swan wasn't always rainbows and butterflies. Her mother left when she was young, and her father worked well into the night, leaving her alone. She spent much of her freetime working and visiting the nearby lake with her friends, but that didn't change the inevitable fact that she would return to her empty house each night.

"In her Freshman year of college, she met Jacob. He was an easy-going engineering major. He loved fixing up cars as much as he loved to sleep, which was saying something. They began dating in their Sophomore year and were married two years later.

"Together they lived in a little apartment just outside of Port Angeles, where they met. Jacob became a well-known mechanic in town and worked nights while Isabella became an editor. As Jacob worked nights and Isabella days, old patterns reemerged. Isabella spent her days at work, returning to an empty house each night.

"She tried to convince him to work days—he could if he wanted to—so they could see each other, but he refused. Time passed. First days, then months, soon years. Then she was in her late thirties, and still terribly lonely. The bitter loneliness continued to grow until one Friday night.

"A friend of Isabella's invited her to the bar she'd been working at. At first she was against it. She was married, after all. But the loneliness ate away at her, and she eventually agreed to visiting Wonderwall. It was there that she saw him.

"The man looked to be about her age. He had a well-developed build. It wasn't anything over the top, but it was clear that he regularly attended a gym. He had a pale complexion, but it looked good on him. He looked the kind of guy that spent the better part of his day inside, out of the public eye. His hair was an unusual shade of brown, almost a rusty red color. It stuck out in direction humanly possible, and then a few more. One would think it had been sucked into a raging tornado. But his hair looked soft, oddly enough. The pale skin and red-brown hair made his bright green eyes pop. Women flocked around his corner booth as if he were God, himself. They hung on him and bent down just a bit too far each time they "dropped" something.

"Women aside, he looked out of place. He wore nice clothes, probably his office attire, and he seemed to see straight through everyone. He paid no mind to the women around him, only addressing them when they'd said something to him first. Even then, his answers were short and polite, a gentleman. The majority of his time at Wonderwall consisted of staring over the women's heads at a clock on the wall above Isabella's usual table. She liked to imagine him staring at her instead of the clock above her head.

"Even if Isabella never talked to him, she was happy. She loved to watch him as he ignored the constant come-ons of the women around him without insult. Jacob would've drooled over those scantly dressed callgirls. Watching the kind man from afar each Friday night was the one thing she looked forward to each day. It was her Friday Night Fairytale."

Suddenly, Edward wasn't in his bed anymore. He was standing in the middle of a dark, unfamiliar street. Only two of the five streetlights worked. They flickered dimly, making shadows dance across the street. Cracks ran along the cement, riddled with potholes. The sidewalks on either side were dangerously unlevel. The cement blocks making up the sidewalks stuck up at awkward angles, making tripping inevitable.

A red truck peeled past him, reminding him where he was standing. Edward quickly ran to the sidewalk, dodging the cracks and potholes on the way. He noticed the entire street was deserted. The only vehicle to be seen was the one that had just passed by. It had turned into a nearby parking lot.

Edward took a tentative step toward the truck. He was lost, and the person in that truck was the only one around. After a deep breathe, he made his way to the parking lot. He saw a woman step out of the truck and start toward a row of buildings. Cautiously, Edward followed behind her. The woman had dark, glossy hair that flowed over her shoulders, down to her waist. He watched helplessly as she tripped on the uneven sidewalk. Edward felt the urge to walk over and help her up, but he was scared. He didn't know who she was, where he was. Was this what Alice was talking about?

The woman stood up and brushed off her jeans. She readjusted her shirt. Something about her seemed oddly familiar. He felt as if he should know who she was. She didn't seem the least bit dangerous, so he continued to follow her down the treacherous sidewalk. The familiar woman fell a few more times along the way. It seemed like she was becoming frantic, picking up her pace. She looked around wildly, making herself trip a few more times.

After a few more minutes she stopped, breathing heavily. Edward cautiously approached her. She still hadn't noticed him yet. He stepped around an uprooted stop sign and froze.

The woman had collapsed. Tremors shook her entire body as she began to sob. She looked toward the building in front of them and sobbed harder. Edward followed her gaze and the blood rushed from his entire body. He felt a sudden chill as he saw the sign: Wonderwall. It's windows had been shattered and the entire inside destroyed. Tables were overturned and drinks spilled. Glass fragments littered the floor. Signs and advertisements had been torn from the walls.

Edward turned around and saw the other buildings on the street were in similar condition. How had he not noticed? He wanted to go home. This place was scary. And dangerous. He wondered where the people were. Were they dead? He didn't want to be next.

The woman cried a long time before she ran to her truck and drove away. Edward stood alone, frightened in front of Wonderwall, wishing he were home.

Soon everything faded away and he was standing inside an apartment building. Edward wasn't alone anymore. The small living room was packed with people. They were shouting and crying. "Someone help!" "Where is he?" "What are you doing?" "Bella, wait!" "You're being crazy!" "Think this through!"

Standing on the back of the worn, gray couch for a better view, he noticed that the shouts were mainly directed out the front door, into cell phones, and onto the balcony. Especially the balcony. He pushed his way through the chaos, still unnoticed, to where the balcony was.

Edward stood in horror as he took in the scene before him. The woman from last night—who he now knew as Bella—was precariously balancing on the railing wrapped around the balcony. People stood out on the balconies of neighboring apartments, trying in vain to convince Bella to step down to the safety of solid ground. Cars on the road fifty feet below pulled over to see what was happening.

A tall woman with long blond hair breezed past him toward Bella. She stopped short when Bella twisted on the railing and slid down, standing on the three inch ledge on the other side.

"Bella, please don't do this!" she begged. "He's coming! I swear! Just come back over here and you'll see him and everything will be okay." She knew it wouldn't work, but she was desperate.

"No!" Bella shouted. "We don't even know his name! How could you possibly find him? I'm never going to see him again!" He eyes were wild, Edward noticed. They were bloodshot and puffy. They darted around, looking for anyone that might try to pull her back to safety. She didn't want to be safe. She didn't want to go back into that lonely little apartment all by herself. With Wonderwall destroyed, she had nowhere left to go. No one for her to see, no one to see her. Her friends couldn't be around all the time. Eventually, they would have to leave, and she would be trapped in that suffocating little apartment all over again, waiting for the man she'd married to finally come home and see her.

She'd never be able to see that kind man again. She really didn't know his name. All she knew was he always sat in that small corner booth, counting down the minutes until the night ended. He never noticed her, she was sure. Why would he?

Suddenly, the voices from inside grew quiet. Edward turned to see the crowd part for a tall man with red-brown hair and bright green eyes. The man ran onto the balcony when his eyes met Bella's.

"What's going on?" he asked in panic. He reached toward her hesitantly, afraid she might jump if he got too close.

Bella was at a loss for words. He really had come. How did he know where to find her? Bella clung to the railing for dear life. She didn't want to die. She wanted to go into the apartment and talk and cook and have fun. She didn't need Jacob or her family for that. Why hadn't she seen so sooner?

"I'm Edward," the man said. "Did you ever see me at the bar? I've been wanting to talk to you for a while." He took a step back so she could step back over the railing. Edward hated that he hadn't talked to her sooner, but he never saw an opportunity. With all those women around him, he figured he looked like a womanizer. Edward had always assumed she'd hate him.

Bella loosened her grip and shifted to throw her leg over the railing. The crowd below and on the balconies around them began to disperse as the drama wound down. With one leg slung over the railing, Bella pushed herself on top.

A loud snap resounded as the wood railing seemed to collapse underneath her. Edward—the man—reached for her arm, but it slipped through his grasp. Both the boy and the man watched in agony as Bella fell. She hit the cement with a sickening crack.

*****

One week later, little Edward was wandering down the park sidewalk. The cement there was smooth and flat instead of cracked and uneven. The park wasn't silent like the street he'd seen just a week ago. Birds were chirping and children were laughing. Their playful shouts were nothing like the ones he'd heard as he stood in that apartment. They played on the tire swing, on the slide and the jungle gym.

It was bright out, he noticed. The sun was shining in the cloudless, blue sky. The streetlights weren't turned on. There were cars in the streets and people about. The grass was dark green. No shards of glass to be seen.

Edward walked by a wooden bench. Since he'd read that scary book, he hadn't liked wood very much. He always heard a snap when he looked at it.

At the next bench sat a woman with short, black hair. She smiled kindly at him. It was a knowing smile. Edward stopped, and the woman patted the spot next to her on the bench. Afraid that the bench might break under their combined weight, he decided to sit in the grass across from her.

"Hello Edward," the woman said. "Do you know who I am?" She cocked her head curiously. Her gray eyes were bright with excitement.

Edward thought hard, but couldn't figure it out. He shook his head.

"I didn't think you'd recognize me," the woman said. "I'm Alice." Alice lifted a pink backpack from the sidewalk between them and into her lap.

She unzipped it and pulled out a black book. It wasn't just any black book; it was his black book. Edward's mouth dropped open. The book had been missing since the night he read it. "I'm the one that gave you this book," Alice explained. "It's a book about the future. It was a scary book though, wasn't it?" she asked sympathetically. Edward nodded.

Nothing had been the same since he'd read it. Edward had been having nightmares ever since. He was extra careful around wood: He didn't want it to break and hurt someone. His mother had been worried, too. She had been checking on him at night more often. He knew since the nightmares woke him up. She'd been talking to his father about a child syconomist (psychologist), as well. He wasn't quite sure what that meant. Still, he was happy she let him go to the park all by himself today. His house was right across the street.

"Bella really is such a good girl though," Alice sighed.

Edward's head snapped up. Is? He followed Alice's gaze to a little girl his age with long, dark hair. She was sitting alone in the sandbox, watching the other children play tag in the grass. After a moment, she turned and looked at him. She had dark, lonely eyes.

Thanks for reading! Love it? Hate it? Didn't understand a word of it? Review and let me know.