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Sight

Book One of the Senses

12/22/2007

Molly Ann Adamson



I'm blind. It's not something that just happened one day. I wasn't born with this problem either. I don't remember when I lost them or if I was born without them but… I have no eyes. Seriously, there are no eyeballs where there's suppose to be. They're nowhere.

"Mom…." I whimper into the darkness. I know it's daytime, but still there's just darkness.

"I'm here, baby, what is it?" My mom's voice sounds worried, like usual.

"I think I had a nightmare," I whimper. Lately my voice has only been a whimper, and I can't make it strong. My so called nightmare was weird, and I mean, there's really no picture that was in my head, so how can you call it a dream? Maybe it was more a feeling, I don't know.

"Explain it to me," Mom isn't as worried, but her voice still sounds considered.

"Well, it was just a feeling, really. Mom, for some reason I feel like I'm going to go on a huge journey or something," I try to imagine me, a person with no sight, going on a type of journey.

"OH Honey! Maybe you're seeing the future!" Mom cries out joyfully. Mom is a fortune teller, and she pretends she can see the future. She's always had high hopes for me that one day I'll be the first one in the family to really see the future. Mom lies to her customers; 

she can't really see the future, so that's why she hopes I can, so she doesn't have to lie anymore. She wants me to take the business.

"Mom, I don't want to take the business. Besides, I saw the "future" for myself, not others," I hold my fingers in a quotes position when I say future, because I don't think I saw the future.

Mom sucks in a deep breath, like she's afraid. I picture what my Dad said Mom's face looks like when she's afraid, gray and white. She says quickly, "Everything's ok, go back to sleep."

I'm back in dream land and he's there, staring at me. "Give me your mouth," he mourns to me.

I scream at him, "No! You have yours! Keep it, and don't take mine!"

He rolls his eyes and says in a voice like he's talking to a kindergartner, "This is a dream. In real life I don't have a mouth, just like you don't have eyes."

I realize he's right, that's why I can see him, sandy, yet golden hair, piercing features and eyes, gray as cement.

I want to ask him who he is, I'm about to say it, and then he's gone, and I'm awake.

Mom sounds scared for me. She says, "Honey! Your body went stiff and you moaned the most awful things, like, 'don't take 

my mouth! I need it; it's my only way of communicating to Mom!' Who's this Trevor you were talking about?"

"Trevor? That must be his name!" I exclaimed, suddenly getting it.

"The boy you were talking about?" Mom asks, "You didn't know his name?"

"Mom, he wanted my mouth. I t-think he wanted to t-trade, my m-mouth for his e- eyes," I try to imagine how she was reacting to this.

She voiced how she was reacting like she always does for me. "Honey, I don't understand, but… you haven't met this, this Trevor before?"

"No, never even known one Trevor in my life," I shook my head.

Mom got all fortune teller on me, "Explain him to me, maybe I'll be able to see him in the crystal ball."

She led me over to what I could tell was the familiar couch with the table in front of it. The table held the crystal ball.

Mom made a lot of humming noises and I could tell she was concentrating really hard, probably with her eyes closed. "Explain him," she said again, mysteriously this time, and still she was humming.



"Well, Mom, it's amazing I can see in my dreams, and so clearly!" I exclaimed excitedly, for this had been my first dream where I wasn't in a type of fog.

Mom cleared her throat, telling me I was getting off track.

"Oh yeah right, Trevor, he was gorgeous Mom!" (Mom was probably either rolling her eyes at this love sick thought or glaring at me for not getting to the point.) I continued, "Sandy, yet golden hair, piercing features and eyes, gray as cement."

Mom was silent for a minute, probably staring into her crystal ball. Then she said, "Honey, I'm going to have to slip you out of your body so you can see what's inside this crystal ball. Is that okay?"

I gulped, gripped the chair, gulped again, and nodded.

A couple minutes later Mom's soothing voice quietly says, "OK, drink this."

I open my mouth and a warm liquid rushes into it, it almost tasted like hot chocolate. Then I feel his weird sensation and feel my soul actually leave my body. I, as my soul, look around. I see my lifeless body, just lying on the couch limply. It looks like I'm sleeping. It must look like that all the time for Mom, except I'm not always limp like my body is now.

Now I can see! I'm overjoyed, but remember my mission. I look at the crystal ball and concentrate really hard. At first all I see is fog, like I use to in my dreams. Then a face appears, and it's 

Trevor's! He winks at me, it's sort of creepy, to see someone like him who didn't seem so joyful the first I saw him wink at me.

Mom whispers, "Is it him? Is it Trevor?" It must be creepy for her, because I'm pretty sure she can't see me.

I whisper, my voice weak and hoarse like usual, "Yeah, it's him."

Mom jumps a mile at my voice that probably came out of nowhere. "Ok then, I'm going to send you back now." She pulls out a bottle of something, probably the antidote, and pulls of the cap.

I'm about to shout at her, "NO DON'T!" I like being able to see for once in my life, like having that freedom.

Too late for that, she has sprayed the antidote all over the area between the couch and her.

I'm back in my body. I think the drink had a medicine in it because I'm very sleepy.

There's Trevor again, and he's looking at me glumly.

I smile at him, "You winked at me."

He frowned at me," I did? That must've been weird for you."

I laugh at this, and it seems to make Trevor even glummer

He says, "I need to show you something."



I follow him farther into where we are. I'm never quite sure where I am when I am in dreamland with Trevor, but we're walking deeper into what seems almost like an island. "DAD!" I exclaim at the man we come up to. It is indeed my father, and I haven't seen him for ages. My parents got a divorce and I just never see him. We hugged for the longest time and then I remembered this was dreamland. I pull away from him, tears in my eyes, "You're not really with me, this is a dream."

"What are you talking about pumpkin?" Dad looks at me, puzzled.

I point at Trevor and say, "He's not real either, none of this is real."

Trevor looks accused, "I am too real! Just not in your life. I have my own, real, life. I just contact you in dreams."

My dad and I laugh and laugh, and then our laughter and everything else is gone. I'm awake and Mom is hovering in my face, I can feel her breath.

"Sorry honey, did you sleep well?" Mom's voice is all smiley. Then she becomes serious, "Did you see Trevor? What did you see?"

"I saw Trevor. I also saw Dad," I mumble, because I know Mom's still mad a Dad.

Mom's breath stops, she probably bites her lip, but her breath goes up and down in my face, like she's nodding, 

encouraging me to go on, like she doesn't want to say something mean about Dad. So she's making me go on to stop herself.

"Mom, Trevor told me he was a real person and that he was trying to communicate to me through my dreams," I stop, listening for encouraging words.

Mom's about to say something about Dad, I can feel it, but she probably bit her tongue and says instead, "Did he tell you anything more?"

I know she doesn't mean Dad, she's talking about Trevor. I think she's really starting to like him. "No, I woke up then. I think he's only able to tell me one thing per dream," I sigh hopelessly.

"Oh, well do you think you could fall asleep again?" Mom asks her voice unsure.

I wasn't tired; I'd slept most of the day. What I really wanted to do was go out of my body again. I'd felt so free, and the drink would definitely make me sleep. I almost told Mom this, but decided against it, it seemed too risky, and I could tell she was tired. "No, no, you go to sleep. I've slept all day. I think I'll just take a walk," I said.

"OK, remember to wear your sunglasses, and don't forget your cane!" Mom called after me. We pretended I was a blind person when I went out, cane and sunglasses included, but we both knew I was more than that.



"Okay!" I call back to her. Before I close the door Mom is already asleep, snoring like a thunderstorm.

The cool October breeze is refreshing to my face as I walk out the door. The park is right across the street from our house. Too bad I never got to play on the jungle gym when I was little.

A voice says to me, "Excuse me, would you like me to walk you across the street?"

This voice sounds like Trevor's so I gasp, "Trevor?"

"No ma'am, my name's Billy," it was a little boy who spoke. Little ones always thought that only old people could be blind, so they treated me with respect, thinking I was an old lady. This Billy, he didn't notice my soft, auburn hair. He didn't realize I wasn't much older than him.

I smiled at him, "Well Billy I don't like that ma'am stuff much, just call me Alice."

"OK," Billy said happily. He still didn't sound like he saw my auburn hair. Billy settled me into a bench and then went off to play.

I must've dosed off because here was Trevor, staring at me. "You thought I was him, didn't you? You were happy at the thought that it was me, weren't you?" He was smiling knowingly at me.

"No, I wasn't," I said avoiding his eyes, the truth.



"Yes, you were," Trevor says again, lifting up my chin.

I think we were about to kiss, but instead I woke up.

Billy was looking at me funny, "You were talking in your sleep, something about Trevor and kissing." At the word kissing Billy scrunches up his nose.

I sit up and grab my cane, "Thank-you Billy. No, no, don't worry about little old me, I'll be able to walk home, I live right across the street."

I'm half way up the porch when I fall. Billy has turned away to play with his friends so he can't help me. I can not shout across the street to him either, my throat is suddenly dry. I suddenly feel a gentle hand holding my hand and helping me up. The weird thing is there was no one there.

"Hey, my time was up, but now…." A non-bodied voice whispers to me.

"… Trevor?" I say, uncertain, thinking I'm crazy, hearing his voice everywhere.

"Yeah, it's me. Where were we last?" He whispers.

I feel invisible hands wrap around my waist and an invisible face brush against my face. I imagine his arms wrapped around me and his face close to mine, about to kiss me. But I whisper, "How can you kiss me with no lips?" I'm almost giggling at the thought.



"Who says I don't have lips? I'm still not in real form, merely a dream, so I still have lips," He sounds amusedly hurt.

Then I feel lips touching my own lips. Mom wouldn't believe this, my first kiss being with an invisible boy, who has no lips.

After what seems like a blessed forever he says sadly, "My time's up. See you soon, girlfri-"

He sounds like he was going to say more, like the word girlfriend, but then I feel an emptiness so bad I know he's gone. Then Mom opens the door.

"Honey! I was starting to get worried, and then I heard a thump out on the porch and…" Mom sounds stressed, and I can just see the worry lines across her face. Mom's pretty old now; she and Dad didn't have me at a young age.

"Mom, I'm fine, ok?" I get angry at Mom often because she often forgets my age of a teenager and she remembers more vividly, if possible, my blindness. All this has worn me out today, my dreams, going out of my body, falling, and most of all, my kiss with Trevor. "I'm going to bed," I say, not waiting for another argument with Mom I go upstairs. I expect her to get mad and make an argument.

Instead I think I heard the word softly spoken, "Finally."

People staring at me. This is what I see in my dream tonight. Trevor's there, with a bunch of other people. But Trevor has a problem I've known he has, but have never seen it. His mouth's not there. The other people have problems too, one person doesn't have ears, one doesn't have hands and has no emotional look in their eyes, and another one doesn't have a nose. There are five of us, me, Trevor, and these three people. Out of these five people 

I'm the only one who is normal. I look at Trevor and his gray eyes burn a hole in me. He's trying to say something, moving his hands around wildly, using sign language, I think. Oh how I wish for those sign language classes Mom had suggested. I had turned them down saying bitterly, 'Mom, I can't see, so how am I supposed to SEE people signing me?' This was before my dreams had turned into more than just fog. I shook my head, hoping he understood that I couldn't understand. He kind of looked at me desperately. Then he put his hand up to his ear. He then pointed to the other people who had mouths.

"He means you can tell him what you want to say and we can translate for you, dear," a woman says.

I don't see what's wrong with her; they're all kind of the same to me now. I say loudly, a little too loudly, I remember, because it's not like the majority of them is deaf, "I can't understand you, Trevor!"

Trevor nods.

I blink, and there they all are still, but everyone's normal.

Trevor smiles at me, "These are the others."

Chapter 2

Sunlight is coming brightly through my window, I can feel the warmth.



Mom's bright voice says, "Good morning!" She probably wants to hear if I had any more dreams.

I try pretending to be asleep again; soft snoring would probably do the trick, because I don't want to tell her about the people. Those people are me and Trevor's people; she has nothing to do with them.

"Trevor…" Mom says in an almost hungry voice. I can't pretend around her, and I know it. She's trying to be a fortune teller again.

Maybe I could just pretend I didn't have a dream, that he wasn't there. "Yeah…." I say uncomfortably. I'm about to lie to my mom, something I usually don't do because she almost knows everything about me, she's almost my life. Then it's all coming out of me, from the minute our lips touched on the porch to right when I had woken up. Now I hate myself, for telling Trevor's secrets, and mine. I think about how lucky Trevor is with no mouth. He doesn't have a mouth that can run on its own; communicate with others what you don't want to communicate. No, lucky Trevor has his hands. Hands he can sit on if they're itching to tell someone something he doesn't want them to. With a mouth, you can't sit on it to muffle the sound. It can just run on and on and on.

Mom's probably staring at me, her mouth open. Her words are shaking, "You kissed him?" Mom's shocked and scared, because to her Trevor is something like a science experiment, something to poke and prod until she gets more information about 

why he's contacting her daughter. Another reason Mom's scared, he has no lips.

"Mom, it was fine, a normal, teenage kiss," I say. But it was more than that, it was my first kiss.

Mom is brought back to the other thing I said, "There's more people like you and…"

"Trevor. Yeah Mom, there is. All of us…." I don't know why I said those words, 'all of us' didn't know where I was going after them.

Mom can't seem to say Trevor's name, which is weird because she'd been saying it nonstop yesterday. She just nods, agreeing that what I said, his name, was what she had meant.

"Mom…" I want to finish my sentence I had started, with 'all of us', want to tell her we have a plan, the five of us. But we don't have anything, we've haven't talked as a group. I know one thing; we need to. "Mom… I think I'm going to sleep again. I need….." There, more words. But those are the only words I can say; hopefully she gets it and will fill in my sentence.

"You need to see them again," was all Mom said, but it makes sense.

I expected her to say I needed to see Trevor again, but no, she had said them. It is official; the five of us are a group. I nod and fall back to sleep.



Trevor smiles, "So, its official, we're all a group?" He's with the others.

I almost nod to him, but then I realize everyone except him is frowning at me, they're mad at me.

The girl who spoke last speaks up to me, "We don't want to be a group, with a group you can sympathize with."

I look around and realize everyone except Trevor is older than me; they're all between the ages of fifteen and eighteen. I realize, they've dealt with this longer than I have, they understand it better than I do. They're so much unlike me. Unlike them, I've been under a careful watch of Mom, who kept her eyes trained on me once Dad left. These people seem almost like they didn't have parents, ever. Even the people who are probably eighteen and out of legal guidance of parents look like they've been on their own for more than one year. They don't want sympathy. I can't imagine not having Mom to sympathize my way of living, with no eyes. I just can't imagine not having her. These people, they don't want sympathy from me. I turn to Trevor, give him a weak smile, and wave to him. I want so much to kiss him, but don't know if I could move toward him, let alone let our lips touch in front of these people and their piercing glares.

Trevor smiles weakly at me too, not knowing what to do either. "Bye," I barely hear him whisper.



I just nod, like we're just business partners. That kiss never happened. Trevor's disappointed face is the last thing I see before I see nothing, like usual.

Mom's voice sounds kind of nervous, like she afraid to ask me, but she does. "What happened?"

I frown, trying to sort out what happened, "Well…. Everybody except Trevor is mad at me… I really don't know why…."

Mom took a deep breath as if to say, 'it's okay, just as long as Trevor's not mad at you. '

I don't think Mom wanted to deal with a heartbroken teenager. She's wrong, though, I wouldn't be heartbroken if Trevor was mad at me. Or would I?

Mom says warmly to me, "Honey, these people… they're just unsure about you. Go on, go back and talk to them, reassure them."
Mom's voice is coaxing me to go back to them. She's making me seem like a little kid who doesn't want to pet the lamb at the dumb petting zoo. Come on Mom, this more than that, this is people we're talking about, people who could be dangerous. But her coaxing voice is too much for me, I'm falling asleep…..

Trevor's alone, and he's staring at me, hopelessness in his face. "They're gone; they don't want to see you or me again."

I don't know why, but I let out a little sob for this loss. I didn't even know them that long or that well, yet I'm sobbing, and 

wanting so bad for these people. Then I remember, these people hated me. I let out one more little sob; wipe my tears on my sleeve, and them I'm overfilled with happiness. The people who obviously hated me more than anything I can think of were gone! My smile I give Trevor is watery.

Trevor looks confused, and his smile is that of a confused person. Then he must have realized why I was happy because then he laughs and holds out his arms.

I fall into them, like a gentle hand pushed me into them. I smile at him, as his arms wrap around me, as our eyes meet, and lock. Then our lips are locked, our second kiss.

After what seems like the usual blessed forever I unlock my lips from his, sadly but not without a reason. This thing that's on my tongue needs to be said, I feel like it will make our relationship stronger. I take a deep breath, but that breath is taken away by a laugh as Trevor, puzzled by why I broke the lock, comes diving in for another kiss. I touch his lips with one gentle finger. His lips are just inches from mine, and for a moment I don't want them to stop, want them to finish their journey to my lips. But then I remember my mission and open my mouth, my breath, breezing past Trevor's face, rustling his hair. He realizes I don't want that kiss, (oh, how I really do!) and pulls his face a little further away from mine, a pained expression on his face. His arms are still around me though, he doesn't want to let go. I take a deep breath and plunge into what I was going to say, just say it and then our lips will be able to touch again. "Trevor, you didn't really like them 

either, did you?" I smile nervously up at him, waiting, hoping he doesn't get mad at me for insulting his best friends.

Trevor laughs, but he looks hurt, the amused kind of hurt he displays whenever I ask him something deep. "Well… I didn't like them much, they were kind of just my business partners, I guess you could call them that…." He laughs and hugs me tight.

I laugh, then take his face, look into his eyes, and kiss him. Our third kiss doesn't last very long, because all of a sudden Trevor's fading and, then, I'm back to the world of no seeing.

Mom says, "So…. How'd it go?"

For some reason again I am sobbing, but mostly just choking out the words, "Mom, they hate me now. When I said we were a group… they got angry…" I don't know what else to say, but I think Mom is satisfied. My words still seem empty though, and I know there is more to the story, I just can't explain it to Mom.

Mom must think I'm feeling sad for these people because next minute her arms around me and she's whispering, "They were as close to friends as you ever got, weren't they?"

I'm laughing at the thought of those people being friends, but because of my former tears make my voice come out choked again, "Mom, they hated me, and I know it."



Mom surprises me by crying on my shoulder, "Oh it's all my fault, I sent you a bad omen by already saying you guys were a wonderful little group."

My mind's eye is rolling itself, honestly, Mom and her fortune telling ways.

Mom can sense my frustration because she says tentatively, "Is Trevor mad at you?"

I smile at the thought of Trevor, our conversation, and everything that happened while I was asleep. "No," I say, and that word brings back to memory our first kiss. It seems like a memory, like it wasn't less than 24 hours ago. It seems like it happened in a faraway place, and I have to remind myself that it happened right outside my front door, that it happened on my front porch. I could walk out and be at the spot where it happened, relive the moment. That's what I feel like doing, I realize. I want to relive that moment right now, even though my mind could easily relive it and show me the pictures. No, I want to be there, in that same exact spot. I'm in still in my PJs, but that doesn't seem to matter. I walk like I'm sleep walking, towards the front of the house, towards the door, towards the porch, towards Trevor.

Mom takes a deep, shuddering breath as I walk past her. I can see her fear, and that breath seemed like a ghostly breath, like a fearful breath, like her last breath. As I walk out of my bedroom I hear her moan, "No." But it's like my retreating back has a voice of it's own. It says. Yes.



I'd known something was going to happen the moment Mom moaned 'no' but I ignored the feeling. I knew something unusual, unnatural, and weird was going to happen, and I don't think my brain liked it. But my heart's cold response was, my life has been like that for the past three days… my whole life if you count not seeing, having no eyes, as an unusual, unnatural, and weird thing. Which I do. So the cold breeze that I felt on my face the moment I opened the door, was expected. I squared my shoulders and planted my feet exactly where I stood last night. I pucker my lips, hoping Trevor's lips will meet mine somehow. Then I'm spinning, my brain is going back to a couple minutes ago, when my thoughts had been: It seems like a memory, like it wasn't less than 24 hours ago. It seems like it happened in a faraway place, and I have to remind myself that it happened right outside my front door, that it happened on my neighbor's frontporch. I could walk out and be at the spot where it happened, relive the moment. Those are my thoughts, thoughts I had had just minutes ago. But I'm rethinking those thoughts in someone else's body, and those thoughts don't mean the same thing they meant to me to this person. I had a happy wanting with these thoughts, but this person had dark wanting with their thoughts. The important thing is that I can see, I reminded myself. I would then be able to tell what this person had done, because I could tell it was something evil. I put my hands to this person's face, I wanted to be able to tell if she was one like me, who didn't have a sense. I felt around, my stubby little nose was gone. There was no nose to replace it. I was the woman who had said she would translate for Trevor. She was one of them.



I almost screamed but a thought came first. A voice actually, a voice that wasn't mine inside my head. "You scream and you'll permanently stay in this body. Me? I think I'll go visit your nice little mother. I might even have that nice boy Trevor over. Us three, we'll have….. a real nice party," the cold voice trilled.

The way she said party, I knew it wasn't going to be a fun party. I knew, I was inside of a murder's body.

My feet creaked along the wood floor as I tried not to scream and walk around the house at the same time. The walls were blood red, and l the whole place looked like a place where only the evilest thing ever created would be happy here. Yet I felt like some part of me was home, as I flopped myself, unwillingly was the part of me who hated the ugly, red couch, onto a couch and took a deep breath, taking in the smell of pipe tobacco. On the other couch opposite me was a lump. Part of me, the part that hated this place, didn't want to know what the lump was. Most of me though, the part that wasn't me at all, that was her, smiled smugly at the lump, recollecting what had happened, something that I had not experienced.

The dark dreary night was all around me, as I recollected something that hadn't happened to me. I was coming up to a tiny, dirty-looking house. My hand slid towards my knife, cold, wonderful metal against my fingers, in my pocket. My white knuckles knocked on the door, my breath calm, yet coming out in a fast beat, worried way. A tiny woman opened the door and as my cold eyes looked down at her I felt hatred towards her , yet 

something was familiar about her, a sort of lukewarm warmness. Then I realized, those cement gray eyes, that's what was so familiar. Before I could think any other full thought, let alone say something to this woman that I wanted to say something warm and kind to, I was speaking. The words I spoke weren't the warm words I'd wanted to say, they were cold and sharp, like the knife in my pocket. It was so weird the feeling of my lips moving and knowing that I was speaking but I didn't recognize my voice. I said these cold, cold words, "Where is your son? I need to speak to both of you."

The woman looked like she was going to cry tears of hatred and sorrow. Her cold gray eyes that were so familiar pierced through me, searching me. I did not feel a thing. Then very softly she sighed. "We knew you would come. Let me get him," and she headed up some wobbly stairs. Two seconds later she came down with a boy.

At first I didn't see his face, not even really seeing him. Then he looked up at me, and I saw the face I love and see almost every hour. Trevor. I wanted to kiss him and fall into his arms. But I couldn't, my feet were glued to the floor.

Hatred for this boy and his mother filled me all of sudden, and I couldn't say the loving things I wanted to say to Trevor. I hated this woman, she was messing with my head. I was also sort of afraid of her, afraid of what she was going to make me do in her body.



But Trevor didn't seem scared. He looked angry and as I pulled out my knife and stuck it in his face he snarled, "You're just mad because of what Alice's Mom said. Get over it." He spat the last 3 words at my face.

Spit flew in my face but I didn't notice it. I was me, in that dreadful woman's mind right now, and I was thinking how she seemed so tall, but she wasn't. She wasn't much older than me, really. Probably 19. Trevor, who was the one who had spit at me, seemed to have known that long before because he wasn't afraid, he said bravely, "You're nothing but dirt. Go, leave my home."

The unwanted grin spread across my face, as the woman grinned. She grinned because she had the knife, the power, and it was coming out. It was going to do its duty. The silver of the blade gleamed in the moonlight and three pairs of eyes rested on it. One pair was scared, one felt glee at the sight of it, and the other looked at the knife warily. The woman's eyes were the gleeful ones. Mine, not hers, were looking at it with fright. I was scared for Trevor and his mom. Trevor's eyes were the third pair, wary. His arms were spread-eagle across his mom, protecting her. She couldn't look at the knife, because when she did her son's life passed before her eyes, I could tell. Instead her shoulders were moving up and down, she was hiding her face. And tears. The glint of the knife is mesmerizing, so I, me, was staring at it when I realized something. Her arm, my arm, was moving upwards, towards Trevor's neck. A flash of gray, whether it was the metal of the knife or his eyes, it was all over in a mini-second. Blackness.



My head pounded, but I was awake. I was just overjoyed to be alive. But something was wrong. I could still see, and not smell. I was back, on that dreaded, blood red, couch, this time sitting next to the dreaded lump. Its face isn't turned towards me, so I can't see who she killed. Then I remember the memory I had had just minutes ago, the flash of the knife, or Trevor's eyes. I killed him. To me its horror and I think about the body. Could it be Trevor's?This thought is horrible, but it runs inside this woman's body like joyful spring water. I turn the body over; this lady's red, manicured nails making my gentle, delicate touch turn cold. The face that is turned to me is old, frayed and scrunched. No, my breath comes out relieved at this word, it's not Trevor's. Why did I even think that? The answer forms inside my head without so much as a thought: When you love someone their image can come right to your eyes at the worst moment. I sigh, relieved for two reasons, one, it's not Trevor, two, I can finally admit I like him to myself. Then all of a sudden my body lurches back, uncontrollably, and then my head lulls to the side. Unconscious, blackness.

The force of the memory is uncontrolled by my weak, little body. The memory, smoke-like, wispy, at first, is becoming stronger. I brace myself for the recollection, hold onto something, my brain tells me as I regain consciousness. My nails grip the couch, my head leans back, and I think I'm ready for it. At least this woman's ready for the recollection. I am not all that ready for seeing what seems like such a horrible memory for the first time. My breath comes out shallow, my preparation. Then the jerk is 

very, very strong, my head bangs against the hard, cold wall. At first I feel unconscious, but then I realize I'm not. My vision is fuzzy, that's probably why I thought I was unconscious. The fuzziness is just the rain though, pounding in my ears. A cold voice is also loud in my ears.

"You can't have her." The cold eyes that go with the cold voice meet mine.

"Is that so? Well, we'll just have to see about that…." The equally cold voice I have grown use to as my own (no, not my own, this woman's) replies.

"You can't have her." Was the repeat. This person steps into the weak, gray light.

I recognize him, (not the evil woman part of me, actual me) Dad. "Dad," I want to yell, to scream, to tell him to run. But no, I didn't even whisper the name.

The evil woman me smiles evilly, "Oh really? I can't have her? We'll see…. we'll see….."

Dad holds the bundle that I suddenly notice he is clutching at his chest. Evil Me tries to pretend I don't notice it, not wanting him to know I know.
But Me, actual me, realizes something. That bundle is me.

Suddenly Dad smiles the same evil smile that is on Evil Me's face.



Me is confused. This is loving Dad we're talking about, so why is he smiling like that? Why does it seem like he'd hand over the bundle that is me in a heartbeat?

I think he actually is about to do it, as my Evil Woman part reaches out, about to take the baby. But then the trade doesn't happen, and the Evil Woman Part of me is stroking his head, cooing to him, "Please Davy? Just hand her over to me. Please. It won't hurt, you'll have this big weight off your shoulders."

"Well, she has been a handful," Dad confesses. Those words melted my Dad, I can tell, and for one second his arms touched, mine, as he handed baby me over. Evil Me's smile was so oily I could taste oil on my lips. A scream.

My body whirls around, my plan will be ruined if that woman comes near Dave.

Mom. I want to run to her, to whisper to her 'What's wrong with daddy?' and get one of those funny answers that means she stills mad at him even after years after the divorce. But I know I can't.

"David, don't do it." Mom's crying, "Honey, you love her, you love our baby, don't you? You wouldn't…. " Then she realizes baby me is practically in this evil woman's arms. She let's out the ugliest, scream I've ever heard. I'd almost say it was inhuman, but I know better.

Dad just smiles that evil smile.



Mom 's movement is so quick I didn't think I really saw it. But yes, it had happened, she had grabbed baby me from Evil Me's arms. I was kind of furious.

KIND OF FURIOUS, WHAT AM I SAYING? OF COURSE I WAS FURIOUS, 100!!

Dad's face is full of hurt and confusion. He doesn't know who to follow, his wife, or his evil love.

Mom has tears streaming down her face now. I just stare at her. Dad can't look at her, he's looking at his feet. She cradles crying Baby Me. Then her cold eyes look at Dad. There's something like a force radiating from her, forcing Dad to look at her. Then her cold voice cuts into the force, "Daniel, we're through," she takes a deep, shuddering breath, then continues, "You….you officially love this… this woman. You officially don't care about Alice anymore… or me. David, I do care about our baby, I'm sticking with her. Good-bye." Her retreating back says that yes, her worlds are final.

Dad's eyes have stung with tears ever since the words 'or me' uttered from Mom's mouth.

That evil woman carries Baby Alice away, and I spit on the ground, furious. So close.

My head spins at the evil woman's last thought, I need to get out of this woman's body.

I turn to Daniel. Cold fury is in my eyes, burning him.



My dad screams with pain as the Evil Woman looks at him with fury.

I smile at his pain, enjoying every moment of it. My eyes push him, still screaming, down to the floor. He hits his head hard. I walk over to him, slowly. I bend down to his face and breathe on him, "You fool, you disgusting fool. You let her go away with the baby." I kicked him.

Dad's scream ached my heart, but I couldn't do anything. Now I needed to comfort him. I needed to get out of this woman's body. Then I notice something, Dad's shallow breathing had become even shallower. Now it's not even there. No, no, it can't be, Dad can't be dead. I want to yell at this woman, I want to scream, rip out this woman's hair, hurt her.

Then all of a sudden I'm spinning back to the red couch. The limp body faces me, and I realize that it's someone I know. Dad. She didn't kill Trevor, she killed Dad. The event I just experienced was when I was a baby, so Dad's been dead for quite a while. For fourteen years. But it all doesn't make sense, I mean, Dad was there in my dream. Then I realize, keyword there, dream. It wasn't real.

Then I'm back on the step, at my own house, with Mom holding me up right. We look at each other, and we both know. I saw the past and the future. I open my mouth, and I have so much to tell her, but then Mom strokes my head, and I'm sleeping.



Trevor's there, and I'm so glad to see him. But before we kiss, hug, or say anything I need to ask him something. My mouth opens and it all rushes out. First the big question. "Are you dead?" I can't believe this, if he is, I've been kissing a dead guy, saying a dead guy's my boyfriend.

Trevor just looks at me funny. "Of course I'm not dead. What are you, nuts?"

I realize I've made a horrible mistake, maybe even offended him. But then I defend myself and say, "Well, well, I saw the future and…. And, well, you know that woman who was here, the one with no nose?" Pretty lame, but I continued, "She's evil Trevor. I saw the future, and she came to your house and threatened you with a knife. I couldn't tell if she…. But it sort of looked like it." Really, really lame, but what else could I say?

"You mean she…. She killed me?" Trevor's face is ghost white.

All I can do is nod. "Oh yeah, and you remember my Dad, don't you? Well, I guess he worked for her or something in the early days, when I was a baby. He almost handed me over to her. But he didn't, my Mom saved me. Then that woman killed my Dad." I have tears in my eyes about my dad dying. I sniffled and wiped the tears away.

Trevor tries to comfort me, "Well…. It's all over now, right? No more dreams. Alice, listen, I think you need to go back to your Mom right now, tell her all this."



I nod, and dreamland fades

Mom looks at me intensely, she's confused. But she says, "Your father, he died? I heard everything you said to Trevor… and wow, your father's dead?"

That's all she can say, that Dad's dead, and I don't like it. Yes, he's dead, you guys are divorced, so you should be over it, Mom! But she's not, she has tears in her eyes. "Mom, you're not seriously upset, are you?" I ask her, not use to this Mom who is emotionally concerned about Dad.

Mom laughs, more like a choke, and wipes her eyes. "I know I shouldn't be, but it's hard. After all, it wasn't like we were having problems before that day. Even though I kind of suspected it. Oh, I don't know…. Should I be mad, or not?"

"Not?" I say, tentatively, not sure if she really wants my opinion.

She laughs, still it sounds like a desperate sob, and then she says, "OK." And then she laughs again.

I'm surprised, never as Mom come this close to wanting to get back together with Dad. Too bad he's dead. So I say, as if to seal the deal, "Really? You'll really forgive him?"

"Yeah, sure, why not? After all, I did get you back, didn't I?" Mom isn't really taking this serious, she's floating around the house, brushing everything with her dust rag.



Good thing he's dead. Now that I think about it, that woman is still out there, she could snatch Dad and me right up.

"Guess I need to change my profile on from divorced woman, to widowed woman," Mom jokes, as she wipes the windows clean.

Note to self, Mom cleans and acts happy when she's sad or worried. After taking that mental note I just stare at her. Is she serious? Does she really have a profile on ? I guess it has been fourteen years, she should be over it, but still... Then I notice something, Mom eyes are red. She still misses Dad. I don't know why, but seeing her unhappy makes me feel better. I wrap my arms around her.

She bends down, kisses my head, and then strokes my hair.

I remember what she said, 'I know I shouldn't be, but it's hard.' Mom's right, I should be mad at Dad, for trying to take me away, but it's hard. After all, he is my father. And even though I only knew him in a dream, there is some fatherly warmth in the memory of him. I fall asleep, standing up in my mother's comforting arms.

Dad. Do I hug him and cry into his shoulder? Or punch his stomach, yelling angry words at him because I know the truth. I have to remind myself, he's dead. I don't know why this seems important right now, in dreamland when he is standing right in front of me, but it just seems very important.



Trevor smiles at me, "I figured I could try and bring him back…"

Trevor seems to want to say more, like the words, 'from the dead' but he doesn't.

I smile a watery smile at him, for now deciding to take the option of crying into Dad's shoulder. I bury my face in his checkered shirt and sniffle, "Dad." That one word as enough emotion in it where he can understand all I've been feeling.

Then I remember my other option and take it. I punch my fist into his stomach and watch his face, wanting to see a look of pain. Nothing. No emotion on his face. I'm furious at him for having no emotion at all, he's immune to the pain. I punch him harder, the hardest I can possibly punch, just for satisfaction. Nothing. I give him a dirty look.

He smiles and say it like it's a joking word, "Ow?"Like he's trying not to laugh at something I said when I was little.

"Ahhhh!!" I scream, lunging at him, frustrated.

Trevor's gentle hand holds me back. "He's dead, remember? Right now he's immortal, so he can't feel anything," Trevor whispers into my ear.

Dad has wandered off a little ways, and as to prove Trevor's point he runs smack into a tree. No cry out of pain, nothing, just a dorky little happy smile.



"He's like a baby," I groan to Trevor.

Trevor just shrugs. "Do you want me to take him back…" Trevor wants to say more, but this time I don't try to guess what the unspoken words were going to be.

I nod, tired already of taking care of "little" Daddy.

"OK. Come here Danny!" Trevor sounds like he's talking to a three year old.

After Dad as waddled over to Trevor like a penguin, Trevor swipes his hand in thin air, and there appears a portal. "Go on Danny, step through the tunnel full of fun," Trevor says in that same annoying voice.

Dad nods, and steps into the portal. Then he's gone.

I let out a little sob. I should have said more to him, should have helped. I should have made sure he hadn't run into that tree.

Trevor puts his arm around me. "Alice, he wasn't mental. OK? It was just being immortal makes people dumb."

That made sense. I nod, and ask for a knife. Trevor looks worried, but carefully holds his knife out to me.

I take it, and run to the tree Dad ran into. Carefully I carve this into the tree:

In memory of



DaNiEl. dAnNy. DaDdy.

I wrote in sloppy, little kid handwriting, thinking that's how he would've written it, immortal, dumb him. I also wrote it like that because I was still trying to be me. His little girl. I could've gone on and on, tears running down my face, trying to think of all the nicknames of Dad. But Trevor stops me.

"Alice calm down," he says his voice exhausted.

I want to tell him to bring Dad back, but as I turn to him I see his tired eyes. Bringing Dad back must have exhausted him. I kiss him, barely just brushing his lips with mine. Then I force myself to wake-up.

I feel around me. I'm in my bed. Mom must have put me there, unable to stand up with my weight pressing against her. Cooking noises coming from the kitchen. Pain shoots up my arm, forcing me to trace where the pains hurts. I gasp as I realize the things I'm tracing are words. My words, the words I wrote into the tree. I scream out in pain, shock, and fear.

Pots fly to the floor in the kitchen and my Mom's pounding footsteps and her worried voice, "Alice! Honey, are you all right?"

I start rolling down my sleeve, I don't want Mom to see this. I realize I can't roll down my sleeve fast enough, it's only 

a few inches from where it was. I quickly shove my arm with the words on it in my jean pocket. "Nothing Mom!" I cry.

But Mom is already in my room. "Are you sure honey? You sounded like you were in so much pain."

Realization hits me. Something metal, cold, and sharp is in my pocket. A knife. The knife that did the job. "Mom, I'm fine!" I say, yelling at her, suddenly mad.

"OK, ok. Just wanted to make sure. Oh, and honey? I love you." Mom just barely even says the last sentence.

I think I mumbled something back to her, but I was too absorbed in my pain to really think straight. My mind swirled in pain, all these colors, all these reds.

Mom's footsteps leave my doorway. I slip my hand into my pocket. And pull out the knife. I feel the same cold metal, the same pattern on the handle, as I've felt before. It's the woman's knife. I don't understand, I thought our lives were done intertwining.

I hear a voice, a soft whisper. "You're not done yet."

I turn around, yet I feel no presence of anyone. "Mo-" I begin to shout, my body shaking.

I hear the clank of the pots being set down, but then I don't hear any noise that seems like Mom running into my room. No, I don't hear anything, but I do see something.



It's the woman. She smiles an ugly smile. She repeats herself, "You're not done yet. The past has happened Alice, now it's time for the future."

"What do yo-" I stop, midsentence as I realize what she's talking about. "No!" I scream, too late.

I'm in the dark dreary night I was in only minutes ago. Except now I know, it is tonight. I was coming up to the tiny, dirty-looking house. My hand slid towards my knife, cold, wonderful metal against my fingers, in my pocket. My white knuckles knocked on the door, my breath calm, yet coming out in a fast beat, worried way. A tiny woman opened the door and as my cold eyes looked down at her I felt hatred towards her, yet again. "No, no, this can't be happening, I say to myself, not believing I'm going to have to do this all over again.

"Excuse me? What can I do for you?" The woman's face isn't the worried, expecting face that it was earlier, it's a polite, yet confused face.

"I've come to see Trevor. Is he home?" I ask the question that I truly want to ask, but not for the reason the evil woman wants. My thoughts are of worry and warning, not of murder.



"Yes, he's up in his room. I'll go get him. But first, may I ask, who is calling?"

Not use to her way of word usage, I stumble in saying, "His girlfriend."

"Ah, Alice. I have "heard" much about you." The word heard brings her pain, I can tell. I can tell I'm not in dreamland, this is real.

She goes up the familiar wobbly stairs. The two longest seconds of my life is all it takes for her to get Trevor.

He sees me, his eyes wide. He signs his mother, for he has no mouth, and she nods. I can see the words the Evil Woman once spoke to me in a caring, nice, voice on her lips. "You'll translate for me, won't you?" I ask shyly.

She nods and says, "He's happy to see you."

Trevor nodded, his eyes smiling. Then he makes for movements with his hands.

"He wonders how you made it here." Trevor's mom smiles, as if she's amused at the thought that she would have to stand here just so Trevor and I, two lovebirds who would probably like to be alone, can communicate.

I shrug not knowing the answer to Trevor's wonders.



Seeing the desperation in Trevor's eyes she nods, "Well! I can see the translation period is done now. I'll leave you two alone."

She leaves and we both know, Trevor and I, that this part of the conversation needs no words. But we think the reason for this in two ways: Mine, that now, now is the time when I will pull out the knife. Trevor's shows in his eyes, we'll just stare at each other, thinking romantic thoughts and trying to send them to one another. One of us has to be wrong, it can't be both.

I'm the one who's right. The Evil Woman inside of me makes me pull out the knife.

Trevor's loving eyes turn into curious ones, they're saying with amusement, 'What are you going to do with that?'

I answer his question in a forceful way, shoving the knife into his face. It's inches from his nose.

There's fear in his eyes. He's waving his hands in the air, signing for his mom to come here. He makes no sound, so of course she can't hear him from the room next door.

The flash of gray light. No, no, I couldn't have just killed him. I scream, to let his mom know what has happened. She comes running in, just like my mom would have. "Alice, what 

happened?" she breathes hard because of her running. She hasn't seen his body.

I run out of the room, crying, it's too much for me. I don't want to tell her that her son is dead.

"Alice," She calls. She almost grabbed me when I ran out of the room, but I ran, ran out of the house, trying to escape the horrible thing I had done.

She must have just seen the body, because, as I run out of the house I hear a scream.

I want to escape this dream world so badly, I want to go home. But I don't know the way. I'm in the street, it's probably sometime around midnight, or something. The only familiar houses are Trevor's, behind me, and the Evil Woman's in front of me. I am suddenly very tired, I need some sleep. I can't go back to Trevor's, no way would I be wanted there. So I can only go forward, toward the Evil Woman's house.

"Hello?" I call once I open the door. Why did I do that? Was I expecting someone to be here?

But yes, there are noises coming from the kitchen. They stop though, and a voice calls out, "Alice? Is that you?" The voice sounds so much like Mom's. Maybe it really is her.



Hanging on to that one piece of hope I call, "Yeah, it's me." I take of my jacket and walk into the kitchen, where the voice was coming from.

A person is in the kitchen. A woman. She has her back turned towards me. I've never actually seen Mom, so maybe that black hair belongs to her. "Mom?" I ask hesitantly.

"Why yes honey, what do you need?" The woman says sweetly. She sounds like Mom, so I'm relaxed.

"I…I think I'm just going to go up to bed. I had a long day," I say, turning around to leave the kitchen.

"Honey, why don't you stay down here a while? I haven't seen you for a while, it seems." Mom turns around right then.

It's not Mom. It's the Evil Woman. Why did I even get my hopes up, this is her house, isn't it? I scream anyway.

"Alice, don't scream. You have made Mommy very happy tonight. Good girl." The Evil Woman sounds like she's talking to a dog. But she still sounds like Mom.

Wait, I made her happy. It's official, I killed Trevor. But you know what? I don't care. It doesn't seem to matter. I sit down in a chair. The Evil Woman's cooking noises, and the soft chair puts me to sleep. In the distance Trevor's mom is still screaming.



Trevor's staring at me. Oh great, I'm having a dream in dreamland. He comes at me, just like he did when I first met him.

"Stop it! Stop it, you're dead!" I scream at him, backing into a tree.

He keeps coming at me, moaning, "Why Alice? Why Alice? Why?"

The Evil Woman shakes me awake. Still in that sugary voice she says, "Honey, you were screaming. What's wrong?" She sounds just like Mom did when I had my first dream of Trevor.

"T-Trevor." Is all I say.

"Don't worry honey, he won't bother you anymore. You're safe with me," she coos.

Lies. All she speaks is lies. No, I'm going to see Trevor again, and no, I'm not safe with her.

She sees that I'm not buying it, so she stops cooing and says, "Listen kid. You did good on your first mission. I think you'll do good, working for me." At this point she pulls out her knife, "Remember this? I know you guys have gotten quite acquainted. I would hate to use it on you." She sticks it in my face.



I nod slowly, all the time my eyes are on the knife. "Can I… um… go for a walk?" I ask.

"Sure," she coos, "Just don't get any funny ideas. You know, dumb things like running away, calling the police, something like that." As she lays down the rules her voice becomes rock hard again.

I nod slowly, because the knife's still in my face. I had no plans to run, or to call the police. I just had to talk to someone.

She nods, satisfied. The knife goes back in her pocket. She seems to have read my thoughts, because as I turn my back away from her she says, "Tell Trevor's mother that I said hi."

I just nod, knowing that is not what I would say to Trevor's mom. My hand is on the door knob. I breath steadily, not knowing what I'm going to say to her, nor what she's going to say to me.

My hand is on the door knob. I turn it slowly knowing that if I knocked I would not be welcome.

My steps sound loud as I walk across the wooden floor. I hear the screams I fell asleep too, except now they're hoarse.

I walk into the room where I had done the evil deed. Trevor's mom is crouching down besides his body, making the hoarse screaming noises.



I reach out and put my hand on her shoulder. I see her jump and go ridged. She turns around and her face goes dark at the sight of me. "What do you want?" Her hoarse voice asks.

"To say I'm sorry. To say I loved him too. To say I didn't mean to do it… that the Evil Woman made me…"

She looks at me like I'm a little child who did something naughty and then blamed it on an imaginary friend. "The Evil Woman made you do this? Well Alice, there are a lot of Evil Women in the world. Which one?"

I shake my head, she doesn't understand. "Trevor would know who I mean. She's your neighbor."

"Oh, you mean little girl! How dare you blame sweet little old Greta!"
"Greta!!" I almost choke in surprise. A sweet, kind, grandmotherly name like Greta didn't seem to fit the Evil Woman.

"Yes. I'll show you a picture of her," Trevor's mom is curt. She turns her back to me, running down a little hallway.

She comes back two minutes later. "She was like a grandmother to Trevor. She understood him, more than I did," She hands me the picture.

The Evil Woman stares at me from behind the glass of the frame. She has the same eyes, but their look isn't angry, 

or dangerous. They have a grandmotherly look to them. Her auburn colored hair was dyed gray. I knew her hair wasn't gray now, so I asked Trevor's mom, "When did you last see Greta?"

"Oh, it's been years, probably when Trevor was 8, so about seven years," Trevor's mom disapproves of my question, but she answers it anyway.

"A lot can happen in seven years," is all I say, turning around to leave.

A soft whimper is the reply.

I open the door to the Evil Woman's house. "Greta?" I call, just testing the name on my lips, I don't like it.

"Yes darling?" comes a sweet reply after a couple of minutes. She must think I'm Trevor's Mom, because it sounds like she put the whole disguise on.

I want her to keep thinking that, so she doesn't turn dangerous. "Just wanted to borrow some sugar," I say, after wracking my brain for something Trevor's mom might say.

"Go ahead honey, you know where it is. Second cupboard to the right of the stove." Then she says something that breaks my heart. "How's Trevor? I haven't seen him forever." I can just hear the edge of sarcasm in her voice.



I gulp back tears and anger, I can't show that I know. "Haven't seen him for a while. He's been locked up in his room for days, probably dreaming about his new girlfriend. His first, actually. It's almost like he's not in the house, it's so quite."

"Isn't it always quite? After all, he can't sing along to music, or do anything loud like most teenage boys would." Now she's just being cold and cruel.

More tears and anger get gulped down before I laugh, "Yeah, I guess your right. But still…" My laugh is shaky.

She can tell she's crossed the line, because she says, "Do you have that sugar?" A note in her voice that says, leave.

"Yeah. Thanks again, Greta." I say, turning around, planning to shut the door to make it seem like Trevor's mom left. Then I'll run upstairs.

It doesn't work like that. The Evil Woman right there, behind me. I can tell even before she says, "Wait, I need to tell you something about Trevor."

I don't think that I can disguise my voice with her being so close, but I let out a meek, "Yes?"

"I….I killed him. I'm sorry, it just…. something controlled me, I think." Her voice says it, she wants Trevor's mom to comfort her. Yeah, comfort the murderer.



The tears and anger I had been holding back get let out. I nod, with a sob.

She hugs me from behind, "I'm sorry. I,I didn't mean to." Lies, once again.

I struggle out of her grip. Trevor's mom and I must look exactly alike from behind, because she doesn't think of the struggle as a struggle for self- protection.

She says softly, "I understand. You want to be alone."

I nod briskly, then go out the door. I lean against the door breathing hard. I hear her go back to the kitchen. I can't risk her hearing the noise of the door opening again, so I decide to go to the back door.

I sneak in to the only room that looks comfortable in the whole house, a nice little bedroom. It's walls are painted pink, and the bed looks comfy. I flop onto it and soon fall asleep.

Trevor, staring at me. I start screaming, "Get away from me! You're dead! YOU'RE DEAD!"

He shakes his head, "Alice, this isn't a nightmare, relax."

He's right. There's still the warm, this-is-all-right, non-nightmarish feeling that usually comes with my dreams about him. "You're dead though," I say weakly, unable to accept anything but. I continue, even more weak, "I killed you."

"But you didn't want to, did you Alice?"



He sounds like a therapist, but I shake my head, no, I hadn't wanted to kill him. Just knew I had to.

"That's why. That's why I'm still alive. Alive in your heart." He touches my chest, the skin that is separating his finger from my heart by inches.

"So I'm crazy, or are you, immortal? No, that can't be right, I can't bring people back to the dead, can't make them immortal…." I'm confused with my thoughts and look into his deep gray eyes, searching for answers in their depth.

He shrugs, same no-answers Trevor.

I smile, and kiss him. What was meant to be a brush of the lips turned into a two-hour blessed moment, frozen in time. But it had to end. Abruptly. Thanks to the Evil Woman's presence in the land.

I felt it before I saw it. A shiver down the spine was all I needed to know. As I pulled away from Trevor I saw my fear reflected in his gray eyes.

"Hello, honey. What are you doing with him? I said you wouldn't see him again. I thought that's what you wanted," She sounds hurt.

"I changed my mind," I said, stroking Trevor's face.

Trevor smiles at me, but turns to the Evil Woman. "Hello, Greta. Haven't seen you for a while. Would never 

have guessed you were evil." He's slightly sarcastic with his last words.

"Oh really? Trevor, you were so kind to me. Even if I did put testing medicine in those cookies I always gave you," The Evil Woman's smile is that sweet, insincere smile I had grown use to.

"Testing medicine?" Those strange words come out of both Trevor's and mine's lips.

"Yes. You know, the type of things scientists give rats?"

"Oh, so you're comparing me to a rat?" Is Trevor's angry reply. "So, you got all the information you needed, just by comforting me, making fools out of Mom and me, making us think you were nice?"

"Wait!" I'm confused by their conversation, "You actually trusted her?" I whirl at Trevor, angry at him.

"You trusted her too!" He yells right back at me.

"Both of these things are true," The Evil Woman points out, queen of discord at the moment, the goddess Eris would have been proud.

Us, the two lovers, whirled at her. Could this be true? Could we both have trusted her, and then had our backs stabbed?



She nods, "Trevor trusted me when he was little. Alice, you trusted just because I was a motherly figure. Now I have all the information I need from both of you."

"What information? I gave you nothing," I spit at her.

"No Alice, you trusted me." The Evil Woman smiled.

Trevor winced, "She feeds on trust."

I winced too, at thought of how much "food" I had given her.

She smiled that evil grin, "Thank you children. I have all the information I need."

"Like what?" Trevor spat at her, daring her to say something that would mean something.

"DNA, what goes on in your brain, your life, almost everything," The Evil Woman smiles.

That scares me. This woman knows everything about me, stuff that even I don't know. Wait, did she say almost everything? She's missing a piece, a piece of me, a vital piece. The thing is, I don't know what it is. "So, you're missing something?" I ask casually.

"Thank you, Miss Obvious!" She snarled. "I'm missing you, the actual human being," her greedy fingers reaching towards me.



"Leave her alone!" Trevor pushed her away from me.

"I also need you, Mister," her greedy fingers got intertwined in his hair.

Suddenly something amazing happens. A flash of gold light, and suddenly the Evil Woman's not standing in front of us. In her place is my twin.

Trevor looks at my twin that is suddenly in front of us and then looks at me, and back again. "I didn't know you had a twin," he whispers into my ear.

"I don't," I say, staring at my twin.

We both forgot that the Evil Woman's fingers had been intertwined in his hair. Now those fingers belonged to my twin. "Come on Trev, that's not me. That's the imposter, the twin I don't have," she cooed.

My blood boiled under my skin, the little liar! "She's lying!" I wail, looking at Trevor with desperate eyes.

"Oh," my twin says softly. Her body crumbles to the floor, in a faint. A fake faint, anyone could tell that.

Not Trevor. He scooped her up in a mini-second, worry on his face, "Are you OK, Alice?"

"Yeah I'm fine. Just to let you know, I'm over HERE!" I yell the whole time, but I really emphasize the last word.



Fake Alice weakly, so fake, gets up. "Yeah, I'm okay." She smiles weakly.

"Good," Trevor says, smiling. He completely ignored me. His eyes and arms are all for Fake Alice.

She gets flustered, "I'm so sorry. It's just with so much tension in the air I-" Her words are cut off by Trevor's finger on her lips.

"I understand, you don't need to explain," he says. He leans in, wanting a kiss as innocent as our first one. He doesn't realize that as their lips get closer, my heart breaks. Now their lips are just inches apart.

"No!" I scream, just as a flash of light changes everything. The Evil Woman takes place of my twin.

Trevor's face is full of disgust and horror. "Alice, I had no idea," he turns to me, pleading in his voice.

"I know you didn't," I say, hugging him.

"Aw, I love a good romance movie right after a meal," The Evil Woman scoffs.

Realizing what she means Trevor winces, "Great. Now you know everything, don't you?"

"No Trevor, I know something much worse than everything. I know your weakness," She nods in my direction.



"You can't resist me, can you?" I say, in a cooing voice.

"That's not always a good thing," Trevor says darkly.

I blink, trying to understand. That one moment when my eyes were closed was all it took. I hear the footsteps leaving my side as my eyes are closed, but I don't believe it. It could be the Evil Woman, my heart tells me hopefully. My mind says, no, it's not her. I had felt Trevor's heart beat besides me before, now as I listen hard, I hear nothing comforting. I hear his footsteps walking away.

I open my eyes and see what my mind had told me. Trevor's back walking away from me and into the woods.

"He doesn't love you anymore," The Evil Woman laughs, "Aw, teenage love. Such a time waster, and yet so wonderfully breakable."

"What do you want from me?" I ask, making sure she doesn't see the tears running down my face.

"Nothing honey, nothing at all." She smiles that evil smile and I know that's not what she means. "I have all the information I need now. Even your weakness, which is so easy, it's love. You haven't had someone love you expect for your Mom your whole life. To have Trevor was like a warm feeling, yet you had to make sure it was real. What you didn't want to happen happened Alice. And you liked it. Until I came. Then your love for Trevor was desperate, protecting 

love. Your weakness is a complicated thing, but I think I've figured you and it out. Boy, and I thought it would be harder to figure out Peter, you know, the guy who has no emotion? Boy, was I wrong. You youngsters are no open books. You have one page creased though, and it sticks out. I opened up to that page and figured it all out. What was that page titled, you ask? Love Alice, every teenager has to love."

As she rambled on and on I thought back to the happy, innocent times Trevor and I had had. There were few, but still, they were there for me to rely on. Finally she stopped and I said, "So what? You figured out Trevor and I are in love. Anyone could figure that out. What's it mean to you?"

"It means a lot to me, with it I can torture you two, turn you inside out. Or even better, I can turn you against each other. It looks like I've already done that," She sniggers.

"Alice? Alice, it's me. Can you hear me?" A voice.

"Trevor?" I whisper, thinking I'm going crazy again.

The Evil Woman laughs, "Boy are you desperate! He's gone, sweet cheeks!"

"Alice, don't talk out loud. Just think, and I'll be able to hear you," Trevor's voice, inside my head.

"Where are you?" My mind asks him.



"In the woods. Listen Alice, I have to tell you something," Trevor says, his voice sounding desperate.

"You're being awful quite, are you mourning over Trevor?" The Evil Woman sniggers.

I nod to her, not wanting her to think I'm not even listening to her. That nod makes Trevor's next words all jumbled up. "What are you saying?" My thoughts say to him.

"I know you must be mad, or in shock, or something. You probably can't believe it, so I'll repeat it again. Alice, even though it breaks my heart to say this, I think we need to break up. We're a danger to each other, we're each other's weaknesses. She could destroy both of us with each other." Trevor's words come like an expected wrecking ball to the heart.

"I understand," I think, telling him it's all right.

"Y-You do? Wow, TV makes breaking up seem a lot harder than it is," Trevor's joking voice is back.

In my thoughts I laugh, which causes a smile to appear on my face. Big mistake.

"You think it's funny, do you? You guys planned this so I would go away, didn't you?" Out comes the knife that had been in my possession a long time ago, what feels like years now.



My thoughts are of fear of dying, so Trevor becomes worried. "What's she doing? It's not that knife again, is it?" He asks nervously.

I explain to him what she thought was an escape of the plan we had created. The smile I had had on my face had been a warning to her, I explained all of this to him.

"Do I need to come back?" He asks, worry still in his voice.

"No, no. I know how to escape." I say. My thoughts close on him, I need to concentrate to get out of dreamland. I want out, I want out, My thoughts as I close my eyes, concentrating. The last thing I hear this time was the Evil Woman's teasing voice, "You miss him, don't you? Yeah you do."

"HONEY! HONEY, WAKE UP!! WAKE UP!" Is the thing I wake up to, my Mom screaming.

What's the first thing she'll see? My arm, the scared look on my face, or the fact I've been asleep for almost days? "Mom, I'm fine," I whisper, opening my eyes a crack.

"Oh honey! YOUR ALIVE, YOUR ALIVE!" Mom's tears roll down her cheeks.

"Mom, I'm so sorry, I must have been gone for days," I weep into her shoulder.



"Gone? Honey you went nowhere. I thought you had a fever, you cried out all the time and you slept non-stop. For 2, maybe 3, days," the whole time her eyes are locked on me, but at this point she looks down, "I almost called the doctor."

"Mom! You didn't, did you?" I am shocked, we both know that the doctors wouldn't understand me. They would turn me into some type of science experiment.

"No, honey, but I almost did. I picked up the phone and…" Her face goes pale.

"And what Mom? What!?" I almost scream at her. I'm gripping her arm so hard it's turning as white as her face.

"Here, this is for you," She hands me a piece of paper.

On it in Mom's handwriting it says: Alice, I'm going to get you. You should be careful. Love, Greta.

"Oh Mom," I wail, pulling up my sleeve.

"Oh honey! What did you do to yourself?" At first Mom just sees the scars. Then she realizes what they say, In memory of DaNiEl. dAnNy. DaDdy. "Honey, I completely understand. This is your way of dealing with just finding out that your Dad is dead. But still, you need to stop."

"Mom, it wasn't like that. I was with Trevor, after I had just found out about Dad. Trevor brought him back, but he was dumb 

and immortal. I carved that in a tree. Then I woke-up and found it on my arm." Tears run down my cheeks.

Mom turns to the note crumbled in her hand, "Greta?' she asks.

"The Evil Woman," is all I say. But there's so much emotion in those 3 words that Mom knows not to say anything else.

Mom looks down at her hands, trying not to look me in the eyes. "Do you want to go for a walk, just the two of us?" She always said "just" like I had a little brother who could go with too.

I wipe my eyes and smile, "That sounds good."

"Okay, grab your cane and sunglasses," Mom smiles. We both love our walks with each other. Even though we're the only ones at home it feels like we're finally alone on our walks. I don't know if Mom feels this way, but to me it feels like there's someone in the house at all times. So I feel like I can't really be open to Mom in the house, so on the rare occasion we go walking, I try to tell her everything.

"So, what's up?" Mom says, once we're out the door.

I sigh, "Where do you want me to start?"

"From when you screamed for me," Mom's eyes are on me, I can feel them.

"OK," I take a deep breath. "I had a dream that Greta killed Trevor. Then she brought me into dreamland and I killed Trevor. 

Since I never see him in real life I don't know if he's really dead. So after I kill him I head back to Greta's, fall asleep, and have a nightmare. Trevor was coming at me asking me why I'd done it. I screamed at him to leave me alone, and then I woke-up. Greta comforted me, saying I wouldn't see him again. Then I went over to Trevor's to comfort his Mom. She explained Trevor's relationship with Greta. Then I went back to Greta. I fell asleep and had a dream. Trevor was there, saying that he was in my heart. Then Greta came into dreamland. Saying that she knew both of us more than we knew ourselves…." I sniffle, not wanting to tell her the next part.

"You and Trevor broke-up, didn't you?" Mom's, my-daughter's-a-teenager-, instincts kicked in.

"We did, but only because we had to. It was dangerous for us to be together. Greta could've have used that information to her advantage," I turn away from her, not wanting to her to see the emotions on my lips.

"Oh, " is all she says. A moment of silence then she says, urn "Hey, wanna turn back and go home?"

"Sure," I say, still not looking at her.

"OK, take my hand," the warmth of her hand goes all over my body, and I forgive her.



But that warmth goes away once I enter the house. "Get away from me!" I scream at Mom, breaking the gentle grip she has on my arm, running to my room, crying the whole time.

"Honey, what-" Mom's voice carries from the front hall to my room but as I slam the door the wood blocks it out.

I lay on my bed, my head buzzing. Buzzing with what? I don't really know, but it sounds like voices. One's that have minds of their owns. "Hello?" I whisper, scared to think that the voices in my head would answer.

"Yes?" Is a word of pain in my head. Millions of people talking equals a huge headache.

My heart stops. They answered. What do I do now? "Umm…., " I bite my lip, trying to think of what to say.

"Um? Such a funny word, don't you think, Ema?"

"Yes Derrick," an obedient voice mumbles.

Then those two people's voices get lost as all the voices in my head comment on the word 'um'.

"Stop!" I yell, clutching my head.

"Honey? Are you all right in there?" comes Mom's tentative voice through the door. Then she starts banging on the door.

More pain in the headache. "I'm fine Mom!" I say, very close to lying through my teeth.



"Who's Mom?" buzzes a little girl's voice is in my head.

"My mom," I say simply.

"What's a mom?" says a little boy's voice.

"Um….," I say, trying to think how to explain it. The two of them giggle at my lack of vocabulary. Then I realize, a simple answer is all they want. "A Mother," I say simply, relieved.

"That's enough Richie, Andria. Go do the dishes," a woman's voice.

Poor things, are my thoughts about Andria and Richie.

"Don't feel sorry for the little trash, they enjoy it. Don't you?" asks the woman's voice. Sounds of a whip in my head. Then a whimper.

I realize something, Richie and Andria are slaves. "Don't hurt them!" I shout.

"Don't hurt who, honey?" Mom calls from outside the door, her voice worried. With her voice the spell is broken, no more voices inside my head. She has unlocked the door using her key.

"Um… no one," I say, not sure if I should tell her the truth. The 'um' comments of Derrick and Ema ring in my ears as I say the word.

"Oh… honey, you're replaying when you killed Trevor, aren't you?" Mom's warm hand is on my shoulder.



"No! No, I'm not!" I scream at her, wringing away. Then I burst into tears, "Mom, I'm not, I swear. There are people in my head, slaves, and I was talking to them."

Mom whispers one word, "Ghosts."

"I knew it! So our house is haunted, right?" I ask, excited that she understands.

"Kind of, but I think most of it is that your head that is haunted," Mom's voice is shaky, like she's afraid I'm going to be mad.

"So you're calling me crazy," I say, trying my best to keep my voice steady.

"No, no honey, I'd never do that. What I'm trying to say you might not want to hear, but it may be a sign that you're a fortune teller," Mom's voice is a face covered by a mask, her real face is overjoyed, excited, the mask in an understanding, worried expression.

"What do you mean? I'm a…a psychic?" My voice is cold, what I never wanted to happen happened.

"I think so, honey. Psychics see ghosts sometimes so it's very possible," The usual feeling of Mom's eyes being on me left me and I knew she was looking down at her feet.

"I didn't see them, I heard them. I don't even know if they were ghosts," I say, trying to avoid the truth.



"Alice, did you know these people? Alice, normal people hear their own voices in their heads. At the most someone's voice, someone they know, would say something in their heads," Mom studies these type of things.

She got me. I couldn't find anything wrong with what she said. "So, what do I do? Should I try and help Richie and Andria?" I ask her, unsure if that's really what I want to do.

"As best you can," Mom says, stroking my hair, "Now go back to sleep, you've had a long day. Maybe your dreams will be normal again," there is a touch of hope in Mom's voice, like she's tired of my very-clear dreams.

"Let's hope," I say, showing her my crossed fingers. But again, my retreating back has a voice of it's own, saying, "No, something's going to happen." Who were Mom and I kidding, we knew something had to happen.

"Hey," I say, smiling at Trevor.

His usual cold expression meets mine. "You know we can't be together."

I sigh and roll my eyes, "Come on, she's not here. Stop pretending."

"No Alice, what if she can still hear us?" Trevor's eyes wander around the place, searching for someone who's not there.

"Oh come on, relax," I say, kissing him.



He lets his guard down and puts his part into the kiss.

"EW," says two little voices behind us.

Trevor pulls away, looking behind me. "Oh no. I told you she can hear us. These two kids are probably her spies."

I turn around, "Oh. Trevor, it's just Richie and Andria."

"How do you know them?" Trevor looks at me suspiciously.

"Oh, well when I was trapped in Greta's house? Yeah, I met them, and ever since they've been like my siblings," I tease him.

"Who's he?" Andria points at Trevor.

"My boyfriend," I say, hoping they would understand. Then I turn to Trevor and whisper to him, "Trev, I'm physic. These two are ghosts, and I need to help them. They were slaves, and they had a rough life. I don't know how they got here, they just did."

Trevor looks at me, unbelievingly, "But you can't see," he whispers.

"I know. I hear them, I don't see them," I explain.

"You guys are talking about us, aren't you?" Richie asks, from a couple feet away. His eyes are cold, like he's heard people talk about him all the time. But his eyes saying something about those people: They didn't say nice things.



I change the subject, not wanting to see more hurt in those eyes. "So, what do you guys want to do?"

"Ring around the rosy!" They scream excitedly.

My face turns white. I did research on that song, and what I found was the song of death underneath the child's rhyme.

"Um, let's do something else, Ok?" I ask, trying to advert them from the deathly song.

They both burst into tears, "You don't like Daddy's song, do you?"

James Leasor. The man who found out about the song's relation to the disease. He must have been their father. I could just tell. But questions had to be answered before I was sure. "Andria, Richie, what was your last name?" I ask them, trying not to show the panic in my voice.

"Leasor," they say, smiling up at me innocently.

"Quick, let me see your wrists," I say, worried that I'll see what I don't want to see. The rosy red ring. It was there.

Suddenly I saw the story playing in front of me like a movie: Richie and Andria playing in their nursery singing "Ring Around the Rosy", a song they learned in school. They sang it innocently, not knowing what depth deathly roots it had. Two weeks later, their lying in their beds, with the rash on their wrists. Their parents work feverishly to keep them healthy and alive, but it doesn't work. They 

die in another two weeks. Then James, their father, figures out about the rhyme and it's deathly history. James figured out that if you sang the song out loud you had more of a chance to get the disease.

"Oh," is all I say.

""Oh, what?" Trevor asks me. Richie and Andria were playing a game a few feet away. Guess what they were singing? That's right, Ring Around the Rosy. And they were starting to fade.

A vision: Andria whimpers, "No Mama! No!"
"Yes, you will go make me breakfast," a voice says. But no one's there. Then I see it, a ghost of a woman. It must have been their mom. And they're her slaves. No, no they weren't slaves, I tell myself. "You weren't slaves though," I whisper to them. They both turn to me, "Yes we were." They say, their eyes burning a hole in me. "No, no," I say, not believing it. I thought I knew everything about them.

"Yes," they nod again, then they start to fade. All the pieces and evidence is their, its obvious their Mom tortured them when their Dad wasn't around, but it just doesn't seem right.

I'm back in my bed, with Mom's warm breath in my face. "Just making sure you're alive!" she says, once I'm breathing normally.

"Okay…" I say, sitting up. I'm uncomfortable because she's right in my face.



"That was a joke hon," Mom says.

Ugh, like I didn't know that? Now I'm starting to miss being in dreamland, at least it was a lot cooler than my real life. How did I survive without dreamland, I mean, the only person I knew was my Mom! Ugh!

"OK…. So, do you want some hot chocolate?" Mom always suggested hot chocolate when she knew we had just had an awkward moment.

"Um, actually Mom, could we go to the movies?" I ask. Going to the movies is an almost not-there treat, it's that rare. The theater is dark, and I wear my sunglasses when people could possibly seem me, so I don't see why we couldn't go more. And even though I can't see the screen, I like to listen to the actors' voices. Besides, isn't it more creative when you can picture the picture in your head instead of actually seeing it?

"OK," Mom says, with no pause like she usually does.

The movie we decide to see is some old romance movie, West Side Story, from 1961(The theater nearest us only plays reruns of really old movies). I was dozing off, I mean, I had seen this type of movie before, Romeo and Juliet, so original. I've also read the play, which was a lot better than any movie. So, because I was dozing off, I was kind of surprised when I heard Trevor's voice inside my head, I mean, I wasn't sleeping.



"Hey Alice," he said, two simple words, but they scared me.

"What are you doing?" I whisper, forgetting that I can talk to him with my thoughts.

"Talking to you," he says simply.

The person next to me taps me on the shoulder.

"What?" I whisper.

No reply. You would think the person would say something like, "Shush! I'm trying to watch a movie here," or, "Who are you talking to?"But there's nothing, just a tap on the shoulder.

"Trev, I'm scared. There's this guy that's sitting next to me in the movie theater and he just taped me on the shoulder. Didn't say anything, you know, like, 'quite' or, 'who are you talking to', nothing." I think this, remembering the cold finger on my shoulder, and not wanting to disturb him again.

"It's me. I'm the one sitting next to you," Trevor says, trying to hide his amusement.

It can't be. "Then why didn't you say something? You could've said something instead of talking in my head, and half scaring me to death by tapping me on the shoulder," I say the wrong thing, and I realize it. "Wait, Trev, I didn't mean it like that, I forgot," I say, nervous that he's going to break up with me.



"It's okay. Hey, wanna dumb this boring movie and go see a rerun of Lady and the Tramp?"

I laugh, "Why?"

Trevor's voice has a smile in it, "I like dog romance better than adult romance."

"Okay," I say taking the guy's next to me hand. The once cold hand has the familiar warm feeling I feel when ever I'm around Trevor.

"It really is you," I say, a whisper only he can hear.

"You thought I was lying?" he asks, his voice curious, yet amusingly hurt.

"I just can't believe it's you, in the flesh, how'd you get here?" I ask.

"Plane," He says.

(For people who don't understand, I'm having this conversation with Trevor all in my head.) "You took a plane just to see a movie?" I laugh.

"No, I came here for our first date," Trevor says, still a smile in his voice.

"Date? Oh no, and I look so ugly! Why didn't I wear a dress?" I whine, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in my sweat pants.



"Hey, I don't look much better. Wanna see?" Trevor asks.

In my mind I see a picture of Trevor. He's wearing a jean jacket, jeans, tennis shoes, and a scarf.

"What's up with the scarf?" I giggle.

"Cover-up, just like yours. Here we are!" Trevor says opening a door that leads into the theater for Lady and the Tramp.

"How many people?" I ask, pushing up my sunglasses.

"None," Trevor says, leading me up to the top of the seats.

Once we sit down I snuggle into my chair, my ears ready for the movie.

"Come on Alice, no one's here," Trevor says.

"What do you mean?" I ask, but his hands have already answered my questions. They're gently taking off my sunglasses.

I giggle and gently take off his scarf. I trace where his lips should be, and sob. We can't have a normal teenage kiss in real life.

"Hold on. Snuggle back into the seat, and relax. You'll be able to see my mouth when the time's right," He says, pushing back a strand of hair from my face and tugging it behind my ear.

I do as he says, wondering when the time will be right.



Lady and Tramp are eating spaghetti, I can here the slurps the spaghetti makes as it enters their mouth. Here comes my favorite part, the kiss. I turn to Trevor and try to sense if he's enjoying the movie. I trace the space where there wasn't lips. Wasn't lips? Wait, was that lips, I was touching?

"Ta-da!" Trevor whispered leaning into to kiss me.

I giggle and lean in for our normal, third, teenage kiss.

"Hi, Mom," I say, nudging Mom awake. She always falls asleep when there's a movie she already seen.

"Uh? Oh hi honey, is the movie over? Sorry I dozed off, was I snoring?" Mom jerks awake.

"I don't know if you were snoring, I kind of dozed off myself," Why do I keep lying to Mom lately? Is being with Trevor making me do this?

Mom laughs, "Why did we go see this movie anyway? I saw it when I was a little girl, and you've read Romeo and Juliet."

How do I explain the feeling I had to Mom? Did I know that Trevor was going to be here, did my body have an urge to see him? "There was nothing else that was good on," I say weakly.

"What about Lady and the Tramp? I saw that was on. You loved that movie when you were little. What to go see when the next showing is? Or are you movied out?" Mom asks.



My face goes white, the black of the movie theater covering it up. Lady and the Tramp is Our Movie, Trevor's and mine's. "Uh, no thanks. Actually, can we go home? I'm really tired," I fake a yawn.

Mom's voice is disappointed, "Okay."

Once my head hits the pillow I'm in dreamland.

"So, how was the kiss?" Trevor says jokingly.

"A normal, teenage kiss. Didn't think you could pull it off," I say, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Want another one?" Trevor leans in.

"Sure," I say, our lips already only a millimeter apart.

"Ew," says two little voices.

"Richie, Andria, what are you doing here?" I turn around, expecting to see their grossed out faces. There's nothing there. "Weird," I say, turning back to Trevor.

"Well, they are ghosts," Trevor shrugs.

"I know, but usually they appear to me," I say, my eyes searching everywhere.

"We're over here Alice," their voices say.

I turn in the direction their voices are coming from, nothing.



"No not there, over here," their voices are coming from behind Trevor.

I take a step towards him, curious to know if he can sense them. I'm about to ask him, but he opens his mouth before I can open mine.

"AAAAAhhh!! Arrg!" Screams coming from his mouth. Then a black, sticky, liquid.

It pours on my shoes. "Trev, what's wrong?" I ask, unsure to touch him.

Before he can answer the black stuff that was on the ground turns the blades of grass into flame. Flame, which swallows the grass like a hungry mouth, only leaving it, a hot, orange red fire.

Trevor screams, because it's burning his mouth.

I take off my shoes, afraid they'll go up in flame. "What should we do?" I scream at him.

He can't say anything, he's barfing up more of that flammable black stuff. Even if he could I wouldn't be able to hear him, the roar of the fire was too loud. The fire was getting bigger, separating us.

I ran all the way to a point where I thought the fire wouldn't have reached yet. A hot wall blocked my path. I coughed, the smoke beginning to get inside my lungs. "Trevor!" I cry one more time in between coughs. Blackness.

"Alice!" Mom is screaming.



Not again, I moan, getting up.

Mom gasps. "Oh honey, not again. Does it hurt?"

"What do you mean, Mom?" I ask, but even when I'm asking her I feel the pain go up and down my arms.

"Burns," is all Mom says.

I feel a cool washcloth on my arms. I hear the sizzle the heat of my burns makes on the cloth.

"Honey, this is bad. Really bad. We need to go to the doctor's.

My nose begins to run, a sign that my eyes would be crying my guts out if I had eyes. I'm crying because both Mom and I know that it would be the end of my 'normal' life if we went to the doctors. I'm crying because I'm thinking of Trevor and the fire. All this emotion and only one word, "Trevor." That's all I say.

But Mom understands. "Oh honey, you're worried he died in the fire! Honey, I don't know if he did, but if he did he died in happiness, with you close by."

I have an idea what Trevor's last thoughts were, and they're not about me. 'Why am I throwing up this gross stuff? Why is it turning into flame?' I sob into Mom's shirt.

"Shush, it's all right baby," Mom smoothes my hair.

I want to communicate with Trevor so badly and I cry out his name, "Trevor! Trevor!"



"Yes?" comes his voice.

"I miss you so much," I think in my head.

But instead comes an answer that I didn't expect. "Yes?" he says again. Why didn't he say something like, "Than come back to dreamland," or, "I'm in your heart,"?

Mom gasps, ""Honey, its Trevor."

"Hello. You must be Alice's mom. It's very nice to meet you," Yes, it's Trevor's voice.

"Trevor," I say, sitting up in my bed.

"Hi, I'm sorry you had to wake up when you did. You didn't see it, but I ran away from the fire, to the snowy mountains. Then I woke-up. You see, I too am in dreamland when we meet." He sits down on my bed, I can feel the weight.

"Oh Trevor," I say, stroking his face. I notice a scar on his face.

"Yeah, the fire got to me just slightly. It's no big deal," Trevor says. Even when he says it he shudders in pain.

"Oh, you poor thing. I know exactly what'll make it better," l say, putting my washcloth on his face and kissing him gently.

"I don't know what made it feel better, the kiss or the washcloth," Trevor jokes.



"I think it was both," I say, snuggling up against him. Then I ask the question I'd been meaning to ask, "How'd you get here? It must be dreamland, since you can talk. But if it is, then how can my Mom see you?"

He smiles, "Put your hand on my stomach."

I laugh, realizing what he's done to get to me. My hand goes through his stomach.

"What better way to hang out with a physic than turn into a ghost?" He strokes my face.

I laugh.
Mom has left the room, but we wouldn't have noticed if she had been in the room. I wonder what she would have said if she saw me lean in for a kiss from Trevor.

"I'm sorry," Trevor says, breaking away from the kiss.

"What's wrong?" I ask, hoping I don't have something in my teeth.

He sees my worried expression and laughs, "Don't worry, it's not you, it's me."

Classic break-up lines. I bite my lip, "You're not breaking up with me, are you?"

His eyes leave me, I can feel the uncomfortableness go away. Another sign he's breaking up with me, boys don't look at you when they're breaking up with you.



"I don't know Alice. Listen, I love you, but I think we need to break-up. All that's happened, it's put us both in danger," He strokes my face, like he doesn't want to be without it.

"I think I understand," I say, biting back tears. Between the fake break ups, and the real ones that were mended in hours, I don't know if it's real or not. "Are you serious?" I ask, hoping for the answer 'no'.

Trevor scoots farther away from me, as if the temptation to kiss me is almost to strong for him. "I don't know Alice, I just don't know," the hurt and longing in his voice is so strong, I feel like I'm breathing it in, choking on it.

I actually do start choking. On what, air, boy am I pathetic.

"Alice! Alice, are you okay?" Trevor's warm hand is on my shoulder again, worried about me.

I keep choking, trying to breathe, but having a hard time.

"Help! Alice's is choking! She can't breathe!" Trevor screams for my mom.

Mom comes running, "What! What's she choking on?"

"I think it's air," Trevor says worriedly.

Mom says two words, "Hospital. Now." She sees the worry that has to be in Trevor's eyes.



"Hey, unless you know the hemlock," Mom says, picking me up and groaning.

"Here, let me," Trevor says.

She puts me into his arms, which is a lot more comfortable than Mom's. I could walk, but I can't protest to them that 'm fine and that I could walk.

We're in Mom's minivan, but I feel like I'm in an ambulance. She's speeding so fast, is this what it's like to go to the hospital? Mom's talking as fast as she's driving. "You were born in a hospital though, of course. You should've seen the doctor's face. He thought there had been a mistake with the pregnancy, or maybe the birth. But you were a healthy, naked baby girl. They couldn't find anything wrong with you. You don't have any health records, so they'll have some problems," Mom's rambling.

I can't believe she said the word "naked" describing me, in front of Trevor. I keep choking, so I can't tell her to stop. Trevor squeezes my hand, with warmth and kindness. He's probably trying not to laugh.

"How may I help you?" That voice, so familiar, but it can't be….

Mom cuts into my thoughts, "Can't you see? My daughter's choking, not on any food, we think it's on air. Isn't that a disease or something?"



"Hmmm...There might be. Of course, it only shows up in certain people. We'll have to do some tests." That voice, so familiar...

"Of course, there are forms that need to be filled out. First, may I have the patient's name?"

"Alice. Alice Tracy," Never have I heard Mom use her maiden name before, I only saw it on my birth certificate.

"Alice Tracy," the woman types into the computer. "No records at this hospital. Where was she born?" I feel the woman's eyes baring into me.

"Hope Hospital," Mom says.

"Hmmm... Never heard of it. Oh well, you do have insurance, right?"
As the talk about my records continue, I think, hoping to contact Trevor. "Trevor?" I ask, my face turned towards him, hoping he realizes I want to talk to him privately.

"Yes?" His voice, inside my head.



I want to say, 'What's it look like?' but I have more important questions on my tongue. "Doesn't she sound familiar? Like..."

"Yes. Looks like her too. But it can't be..."

"Nose?" I ask, a one word question, but the one that will solve the mystery,

"Can't tell. She's wearing a mask, you know, to cover the nose and mouth area," Trevor says, shifting my head from his arm to his shoulder.

"Come on Alice, Gemma will be your nurse," Mom says.

Trevor takes a deep breath.

"What?" I ask him inside my head.

"Gemma is on her name tag. It's her. I bet it's Greta…"

No. She can't be my nurse! "Oh, we'll have so much fun together," "Gemma" gushed.

We all go down a hallway, Trevor whispering the details to me the whole way.

Sometimes "Gemma" would turn around and say chillingly, "What was that dearie? Were you saying something?"



Trevor would respond equally chilly, "Nothing. I was just telling Alice everything would be fine."

"Well, Alice needs her rest. I'm sure she'd rather be alone, look at everything. I'll be in with the tubes soon. Breathe through you're nose, there you go." "Gemma" says soothingly. But Trevor tells me she flinched when she said nose.

"OK kid, let's see who you really are," "Gemma" says once she puts the tubes in my mouth. Before I can do anything she takes off my protective sunglasses.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" I scream at her, hoping Mom, or Trevor will hear me.

"Honey! Honey! Is she hurting you?" Mom comes in, running, Trevor right at her heels.

"Gemma" has smashed my sunglasses back on to my face. I right them and then open my mouth to speak, to tell Mom what happened.

"Oh, just a little prick in the arm from one of these tubes. Nothing to worry about. Now, Alice needs to get used to these tubes, out, out, both of you," "Gemma" shooed Trevor and Mom away.

I told Trevor everything that had really happened in my mind. But what could he do?



He said his mouth was weakening, soon it would disappear. He had to get home fast.

"Ok," I say, trying to reassure him everything will be ok.

His worried expression is the last thing I see of him.

"Dad?" I ask, sitting up after a couple of hours of sleep. He's there, he really is. But he has to be immortal, because he smiles and says his joking word, "Ow?" Then he's gone.

The boy named Billy replaces him.

"Billy, what are you doing here?" I ask him. This boy is alive, so he must really be here.

"No ma'am, my name's Billy," he says.

"I know that," I say to him, almost laughing. He said that to me when I mistook him for Trevor.

He disappears.

In his place is Trevor's Mom. "What do you want?" she asks, her voice hoarse, like it was the last time I heard it.

I want to tell her Trevor's alive, so she can forgive me. But I don't really know that, because, Trevor has had a mouth every time I've seen him, every time was dreamland. Well, except for our date, but even a part of that was dreamland.



I'm so confused, why are these people from my past here? Why do they keep bringing up all these questions inside my head?

"Gemma" comes in. She sits on my bed, taking the place of Trevor's mom. "How are you doing? Oh, you look so pale, is something bothering you?" Her sugar sweet voice makes me choke, louder than I had been.

"OK kid, we both know you're faking it, so quit," "Gemma" says.

I stop coughing, and sit up straighter. "So what if I am?" I say.

"My question is why? Why would you fake it? For attention?"Greta laughs, "Alice, you have plenty of that. Your Mom loves you, isn't that enough? My mom didn't love me. Once she saw me, a no-nosed freak, she screamed for the doctor to get rid of me. And that's what he did, throwing me out to the streets. And my life went the wrong way ever since that. I stole. But now I've made the biggest mistake of my life, and a life is going to suffer for that," she says, a tear rolling down her cheek.

I turn away from her, prepared to feel the knife on my skin.

Her tone doesn't turn deadly, it's still tear choked, "Alice, would you take care of my baby?"

"What!?" Did I hear right, does she want me to take care of some imaginary baby? Then she puts my hand on her 

stomach, and I feel a little kick, she was pregnant! "Oh," is all I say.

"Alice, I know we have had a rough time, but I need you. I know, I won't be a good mother. That's why I want you to take care of my baby," Greta's holding my hand now, looking at me, needing me desperately.

"Knock, knock, is it okay if I come in?" Mom's in the doorway.

Greta lets go of my hand, "Just telling her what type of tests are needing to be done."

Mom's voice shakes. "Oh…. Do we really need to do that now?"

"Mrs. Tracy, it needs to get done. And I'm sure Alice doesn't want to stay here forever, do you honey?" Greta looks at me, the sugary smile in her voice. All those tears that were in her voice just minutes ago are gone.

"Mom, I think I'll be okay. After all, Gemma will be by my side the whole time," I say, smiling.

Greta squeezes my hand, a silent thanks.

"No honey. Hey, you've stopped coughing! That means we can get you out of here! Come on," Mom says, taking my hand and pulling me out of bed. The tubes that were in me fall to the floor.



My hand slips away from Greta's, and so does that special bond we made up. My back talks again as I leave the room. It says, No, I won't take care of your baby. My back said it, not me, but Greta will never forgive me.

After a few minutes of shock, Greta comes running after us.

We're just walking calmly to the door, to leave the hospital forever, when I hear her footsteps.

"Run," Mom says, "They're not getting to you, not this time, not ever again."

My heart beats faster as I quicken my pace, but that's not the only reason it beats faster, I hear more feet running. More doctors have to be chasing us. We finally reach the doorway, and 2 minutes later we're in the car. But right before I close the car door I hear Greta crying out to me, "Alice, don't leave! We have so much in common! I need you!"

I know she needs me, but what am I suppose to do, I'm only fifteen. I turn around in my seat, in the direction of the hospital, and Greta. I try to silently tell her that everything would be fine, that she shouldn't be mad at me, that I would gladly take care of her baby. But my mouthing skills aren't the best, after all, I usually just talk, so I don't think she got my message.

"Honey, what are you doing?" Mom pats my leg once I turn around.



"Nothing," I say, and then to change the subject, "Mom, not to worry you or anything, but that was Greta, you know, the Evil Woman I told you about?"

Mom is in so much shock, she loses control of the car. It swerves into a ditch, with both of us screaming.

The engine dies once we hit the ditch. "Oh no," Mom says, trying to start the car but with no success.

"Maybe we should go to a gas station?" I ask, hoping the nearest gas station was only a couple blocks away.

"Honey, we're in the middle of nowhere. We left the hospital in such a rush, we're miles away from it. No gas station anywhere, and I think I might've made a wrong turn somewhere. Honey, we're lost," Mom says, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Mom, what do we do?" My voice comes out as a whimper.

"We need to call someone I haven't talked to for 15 years. Your grandmother, from your father's side of the family," Mom's voice is nervous.

Is she serious? She never talked about her Mother in law, and I never asked much about her either. She dials the number.

"Hello? Cece