This is my first Jane Eyre fiction. I've been writing fics for Gilmore Girls for a while now, but never for Jane Eyre. I thought I would try because litterature is one of my biggest intrests here in life...And especially old litterature from the 18th and 19th century. Jane Eyre is one of my abosulte favourites among books and this morning I got an idea of a new story. So I will give it a try, this chapter is unfortunately not so long but they will get longer, I promise!

Summary: Everyone thought Bertha was dead, that she died in the fire at Rochester mansion a year ago. The same fire Edward Rochester himself lost his eyesight in. But was it really true that Bertha died? Or was it just a vision?

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the rights for this book, or the characters either for that sake. This is my imagination, and it does not happen in the book. All credits goes to Charlotte Brontë for writing this book in the first place.

Chapter 1 - The beginning

"No don't do it! Leave me alone!" Jane screamed, terrified of the evil woman who was after her.

"Oh, poor Jane Eyre. You couldn't find a better man than Mr.Rochester. That's a pity."

"Where is he?Please tell me you haven't hurt him!" Jane cried, she was now forced to stand in a corner of one of the big rooms, and she could feel the cold wall against her back.

"I'm only doing this for your best Miss.Eyre, Mr.Rochester is my husband. Mine, not yours." Bertha declared and pointed a knife toward Janes throat.

"No!" Jane screamed, and suddenly everything became like a dark curtain before her eyes.

She woke up, the sweat was dripping on her forehead. She had been dreaming a lot of those strange dreams lately. She didn't know why, Bertha was dead and Rochester was her husband now, even if he were blind from the fire. At least it was only a dream, not reality.

She tried to go back to sleep, but it was impossible. She was scared of the possible dreams that would be even worse than the previous.

Everything ended up the same way as it always did, she layed in bed fully awake. To be tired and irritated the next day.

"Jane!" Rochester said a couple of days later.

"Yes sir." Jane responded, she usually didn't call him Sir anymore, only at these occasions. When he seemed to be out of mood.

"Don´t call me sir, Jane. "

"Sorry Sir, I mean Edward." Jane answered. She tried to get used to this life, as a lady of distinction instead of an unwanted maid.

Edward walked closer to her "You've been acting strange lately. Is something wrong?" He asked her, she thought he didn't notice it. But he always did, even if he was blind he could feel that she didn't act like the Jane he knew.
"No, I'm fine." She responded, unwilling to tell him about her dreams.

He shoke his head "I don't believe you, Jane."

"Well, I've just been sleeping bad lately. Nothing to worry about." Jane shrugged her shoulders and Mr.Rochester took her hands in his.

"I suppose I have to trust you. Just promise me, Jane, to tell me if something is wrong. It's really important."

"I will. And you can trust me, I'm doing fine."

"Good, I'm glad." He answered and kissed her on the cheek before he walked away, leaving Jane alone in the long corridor. She decided to paint, she needed something to focus on, something to let her horrible thoughts go. And painting was her best way of doing so.

When she painted it was nothing that bothered her. Not even her worst nightmares.

Jane took the paintbrush and dragged it against the white paper, she tried so hard to focus.

To let go, but it didn't work, she still couldn't think about anything else but her horrible dreams about Bertha. And Rochester's worried face earlier that day. Something was terrible wrong, something she couldn't control in any way. Something that just happened, without a warning. Without a trace.

The disaster was coming closer. And no one could stop it.

Bertha was in the house.

Please tell me what you think. Ideas? Suggestions?

- Amanda