Unfocused

Disclaimer: I'm rich!! Do you hear me? Rich, rich, rich!!!!!! Hahahahahaha

Summary: Helga on Hogwarts!! She received a gift from an anonymous sender that brought her in the world of magic.

Chapter 1: Dreams are just dreams

She looked around and all she saw is the darkness. Struggling her fear, she called out but her voice is just echoed. She started to panic and started running....running, running, away...from what?

She could feel someone following her. Trying to catch her and.... The feeling of danger seems to ignite her sense and made her go run faster to safety. But where?

A light can be seen from afar and she started going through that direction. Voices are heard, calling out her name in a most frightening way, "Helga.....," a breeze whispering in a quiet night. She caught a glimpse of a stair case and a door left ajar, but she ignored it, not giving her curiosity a chance. Where am I? Why am I running? Where is everyone?

She kept on running and the view seems clearer now. She can see walls, paintings – making her forget of her fear. The walls...she approached it and found out that the walls are in fact, made up of stones. Like old castles she saw on books and on television. She turned away from the wall, remembering her predicament. She started to move again when suddenly a silvery light blocked her view and she screamed. Two strong hands went on her mouth to silence her and the person whispered on her," Shut up! Do you want us to be caught?", she struggled free and when she turned around, there's no one there! She stared for seconds before she realized what happened. As soon as she started screaming, the floor, change into a quicksand, pulling her down, down, down.................

She found herself seating in a dark red velvet chair. The room, she could see is small and thoroughly closed with no possible source of light. She looked up but all she could see is a ceiling covered in a dark paint. She looked up front and found that there is someone standing in the corner, facing the wall. She could see he was covered in gray robes, almost reaching up the floor. "Helga, child, you need to go back!" he said. Then, the man faced her and she saw that he was like...Merlin? I must be dreaming. She didn't notice the old man muttered some words and pointed a stick at her. A green light is being emitted on the stick and all that she could hear is a weird statement by the old guy, "decide with your head my child, not with your heart." And she was gone.

She found herself lying on a garden. Flowers, rich and wild surrounding her, intoxicating her with their sweet smelling fragrance. She tried to stand up but she was pulled down, again by someone. "Helga, don't leave me here." the voice said. And it sounds utterly familiar...'Arnold?!' She turned to face him but another pair of hands pulled her up, away from her savior. "You don't think you could get away that easily, yes?!" She looked at the owner of the voice and she screamed. For the person in front of her has no face. Only a remnant of a person she used to know.....ARNOLddddd!!!!!!!!!!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!," she woke up, screaming, gasping for breath. She could feel her sweat covering her full body.

Suddenly, her Mom entered her room, fear and anxiety all over her. "Helga, are you all right?"

Her weird dream must have messed up with her mind that she didn't yell at her mom to shut up. Instead she hugged her, rather forcefully and started to tremble.

"Oh! Darling, are you having a nightmare again? Is it Barney? I thought you got rid of that dreams when you were 6?" she disentangled herself from her mom, looking at her rather spitefully. Barney? Is her brain to fried up to ask me that?

As weird as it sounds, her mom's question brings her back to her usual self: the uber-bitch!

"Mom! I'm just acting, you know. Is it good?" she asked, her voice dripping with hatred, disgust and...sadness?

"Well, I guess that you really had me convinced...Say, are you going to audition in the school play? You know, you did great with that Romeo and Juliet thing...."

She tuned her mother out and replayed the dream on her head. Sure, it was short, unlike her other dreams, but this is just too damn realistic. She could almost smell the exotic flowers in the garden.

"Helga, aren't you going to school?" her mom, again, asking with that slurred voice of hers. What's with the concern?

"Uhm, yeah! What time is it anyway?"

"Well, it's just 5:00 honey. Your class doesn't start till eight right?"

"Right!"

She just sat there, waiting for her mom to go out and stop pestering her. Miriam stands up and walked to the door and stopped. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes"

"well then..." with that, she closed her daughter's door, leaving her alone again with her thoughts.

Merlin, Arnold, castle, garden – what is that all about? She thought of her other dreams and compared it with the recent one. It didn't make sense. Why would I dream of Arnold anyway? She got rid of her feeling for him since the fifth grade. And she didn't even think about him anymore. Sure, they are still friends but they are not that close. Gerald is her best friend as of now, Phoebe being on the States for five years now and Arnold and Rhonda being a hot couple.

Rhonda and Arnold, she couldn't have guessed that in a century. Sure, she dreamed of Arnold being paired with Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd in a tennis match, laving her to pair up with Gerald...

Hmmm, as far as she can remember, her dreams did come true. In a very weird kind of way. Last week, she dreamed of having heaps and heaps of award and money that Bob and Miriam wanted her to have. And the following morning, she actually won in the Science fair and in the tennis match. And, well, Barney, the thing that made her slumber as a child a great disaster. She once dreamed of it before it even hit the television and when it did, Miriam and Olga made her watch it until they have time to check her out themselves.

Nah! I had hints of these things happening. Why would my dreams come true? As my professor said, dreams are just our subconscious talking. No magic there. We are the one making our own dreams, or nightmare, in her case.

She frowned, remembering her nightmare. It's just a dream, isn't it?