A/N: Re-uploaded to my backup account. (originally posted on my other account, -Moon'sRain-)

Endlessly Dreaming:

Prologue:

What was left of my life had become a backdrop for a bad movie. Everything that made sense to me, everything that I thought I knew, had gone down the drain. All was lost and nothing mattered anymore. Things that I had once thought were incredulously impossible had become my reality and solidified right before my eyes. There were things I could do now that I couldn't do before. The result of losing everything and everyone had given me something new, something I didn't want

Thoughts. Ideas. Desires. Emotions… All of these filled my head every hour of every day. But no, they were not my own wants and dreams. They belonged to others around me. And I could hear them all. Sometimes even … walls talked to me if I touched them …They gave me stories of the past …That was if I concentrated hard enough, which I rarely wanted to.

Even with the constant buzz of tedious noise inside my brain, I had never felt more alone. Who could I tell about this without getting locked up in a padded cell or latched on a table underneath thousands of scientists? Not my uncle … not my old friends … certainly not the therapist I was scheduled with every week.

I told no one … until I found the man who had the same ability as me. And even then, he wasn't even human.

Chapter 1: A Chance At Something New

Take a photograph,
It'll be the last,
Not a dollar or a crowd could ever keep me here,
I don't have a past
I just have a chance,
Not a family or honest plea remains to say,
Rain, rain go away,
Come again another day,
All the world is waiting for the sun

Rain – Breaking Benjamin

Upon arrival in Forks, Washington, I half expected to be hounded with paparazzi like I had been for the past two weeks. Instead, I was greeted with the sight of people milling about the bus stop, not even glancing once at me. I exhaled in relief and relaxed, feeling a little bit secure. I tugged my jacket over one arm while holding my cat carrier and pulled my luggage behind me with the other. As soon as I took a step, I became overwhelmed with the thoughts of others once again.

'I hope I have enough for this ticket…'

'Where is he? Shouldn't he be here by now…? Surely I told him the time...'

'That bus was pure hell on wheels… smelly; uncomfortable… you'd think they could…'

'Uh, of course it's pouring rain! What else can go wrong?'

I winced and closed my eyes, trying to block out the muddled sounds of the bustling people around me. This had been the norm for me since the plane crash. I could hear what people were thinking, what they were feeling, what they wanted … Sometimes, if I placed my palm flat against a wall, I could hear sounds or stories embedded within the plaster. It gave the saying, 'If walls could talk' a whole new meaning.

Since the crash, I had wanted nothing more than silence to myself, but I never got that sanctuary. I knew I shouldn't have lived when our plane lost turbulence and crashed brutally onto a packed highway, which also took the lives of countless others. No one else lived, so why did I? Your guess is as good as mine. I have no idea. The most I got out of the accident was a gash to the forehead and this uncanny ability to read minds. I felt that this curse was punishment for surviving.

Sighing sharply, I looked around the crowd of people for Blake, my uncle that had been unfortunate enough to get stuck with me. Before the crash, my parents, my little sister and brother and I had been planning to come out here to Forks for a while to stay with him. Fate had a cruel sense of humor, I guess. They never made it, but I get to stay with my uncle after all.

After the accident, my great aunt had picked me up from the hospital and allowed me to stay with her until she made further "arrangements". As soon as the media got word of the only survivor of Flight 83, paparazzi and news reporters swarmed my great aunt's house with questions, comments, and countless pictures, which she resented greatly. During that time, I was struggling with my newfound ability. I would accidently respond to my aunt's thoughts or feelings when she was in another room, or do what she wanted me to do without her asking … stuff like that.

I had to watch her mouth every time I heard a thought or idea in her head just to make sure she wasn't physically speaking to me. I had accidentally touched her arm once and proceeded to feel like I had stepped into her body entirely. Everything she was seeing, feeling, watching, thinking, etc. erupted into my brain and I had fallen to the ground in sheer surprise and terror. I never touched a person since then. She couldn't ship me off to my uncle fast enough. I was grateful of course that he was more than willing to accept me with open arms, even though my aunt often told him of my "strange behavior", which he disregarded as PTS.

"Ashlynn!"

I looked up, abruptly pulling out of my own musings. I saw Blake walk over to me, beaming and waving. His ash blonde hair looked wild and unkempt, and he had dark circles under his eyes. My uncle was young, only twenty three years old, and currently single. He worked as a nurse part-time and was finishing up his studies at a local college to get his Ph.D. He was just getting used to life. He didn't deserve to get landed with a screw-up, disturbed kid like me. I hadn't seen him since the funeral, though. He looked the same, I guess.

There she is, poor girl. I wonder how she's doing … she can't possibly still .. no, that's impossible… Blake's thoughts were muddled and incomprehensible, fading into countless amounts of worry for me. I cleared my throat and curled a stray hair behind my ear, not knowing what to say as he approached me.

"Hey honey, how are you?" He moved to hug me and I abruptly stepped back, cringing to myself.

"I'm fine," I answered monotonously, not looking him in the eyes. My fists tightened around handle of the carrier, which contained my brother's kitten … named Sweetie. Little kids usually had wonderful imaginations when it came to naming things, but Riley wanted to call her Sweetie for some reason or another. Sweetie was a small, orange and white bundle of fur. She was maybe a month old. We had gotten her for Riley right before we had decided to leave. God knew how much he adored that cat, and I couldn't bear to part with her like my aunt suggested. She stayed with my great aunt Sylvia when we left, thank god.

Blake nodded and held out his hand, inclining for me to hand him the cage. I did so, with a small squawk from inside the pen, and he led me out of the bus stop, filling me in on town life of Forks.

"It's good that Sylvia sent you here. Nice and quiet town. No one's gonna bother you much here, trust me." He shot me a bright smile which I returned tepidly.

I nodded to myself, biting my lip. Quiet was good. Quiet was what I needed; what I wanted for so long. We approached a navy blue car and he pulled open the passenger door for me. He took my remaining luggage and stuffed them into the backseat, slamming the door shut. He handed me the cage and I took Sweetie out, holding her to my breast to shield her from the rain as I got in. She purred softly and fussed with the hem of my shirt, occasionally mewing softly. I stroked her fur to calm her.

I slowly settled in the seat, taking in the details and smells of the cab. Blake got in the driver's side and started the engine. We pulled out of the bus station and barreled down a slick highway. I stared out the window, watching the fresh rain drops bead on the surface. According to Blake, Forks was one of the rainiest cities in the United States. This was going to be hard to get used to, I realized. I was so used to the warm, balmy weather of California and the constant rays of sizzling sunshine.

The awkward silence between us was uncomfortable and I reluctantly dipped into Blake's mind, curious as to what he was thinking about me.

It's a small school, she should be ok there. Good kids, good teachers…Already registered her there, maybe we should swing by it while I show here the town…I wonder if…

"So, you still uh … seeing that Lucas kid?" Blake asked, peering over at me out of the corner of his eyes.

Instantly, I scowled. Lucas Clear, my ex-boyfriend, was the entire reason my family had gotten on that plane. Apparently, that little detail had been left out when my parents had made plans with him. Part of me was relieved that he didn't know, but I still felt uneasy. I didn't want to tell him all by myself.

"No," I answered darkly, gritting my teeth,

"Hmm … He was a good kid, I liked him…" Blake mumbled. I touched my cheek tentatively, even though I knew the bruise was long gone. I grit my teeth and clenched my fists in anger.

. "He was a fucking asshole," I replied, not caring about my use of words.

Blake shot me a look of utter surprise, his mouth falling open at my outburst. But, he said nothing more and kept on driving. Occasionally, Blake would point out the windshield at a random building, or person, naming them off with ease. We drove past Forks High and I sighed wistfully. It was smaller than I was used to, which kind of terrified me. I don't like packed spaces… I get claustrophobic very easily. Especially if people are cramped around me. But then I realized that if the school is smaller, than there must not be many students, which relieved me a bit.

Finally, we arrived at Blake's house. It was just how I remembered, but it didn't seem as big. I had only been here once or twice when I was fourteen, which had been just when my baby sister was born. I remembered driving up for the first time with my parents and walking up the narrow pathway with my two year old brother on my hip. My parents carted my baby sister in their arms and conversed excitedly with my uncle. The house didn't look like it had changed much in the past two years. It was the same two story staccato house that held so many memories for me. I had never been here since.

Blake was always the one to make the drive out to our home in Cali, rather than let us make the journey ourselves. To save money, he had insisted.

Blake helped me unload my cargo, which he carried with ease. I put Sweetie back in her cage and followed Blake inside the house. To my surprise and joy, Blake had already done his best to accommodate the spare bedroom upstairs for me. He remembered my favorite color, which was light purple, and had painted the walls with it. A few of my dad's old rock band posters hung up on the walls. My father lived with Blake and his parents before he married my mother, and this was his old room.

There was a brand new laptop on the desk farthest from me, along with a new looking lamp sitting next to a stack of fresh school books. I spotted a cat bed and litter box in the corner, adorned with toys, cat food, food dishes, and the like. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that Sweetie's name had been custom embroidered into the front of the bed. I smiled to myself, feeling so happy that Blake was family. He cared so much about every little detail. Still, I was left to wonder why he was single.

My own bed looked relatively old, and I wondered if it was my fathers. There was a floral comforter spread neatly across it, as well as two gigantic, fluffy-looking pillows at the head of the bed. I glanced down, seeing old white carpet. I noticed several dark soda stains and smiled, knowing without a doubt that these must have come from my father. He was the clumsiest person I knew and I was glad I inherited my mother's grace.

Out of sheer curiosity, I placed my hand against the purple wall and concentrated. After a moment, I could make out the muffled voice of my father. I heard his laughter, and then several rifts of a guitar. He sounded younger, but I knew it was him.

Tepid tears pooled in my closed eyes and slipped down my cheeks. Instant pain flashed through my chest and I doubled over, sobbing softly as I clutched my middle. The loss of them was too fresh… I couldn't bear it. It had only been a short time since the burial of their empty coffins, which ripped my apart, body and soul. Especially when they lowered the tiny coffins down, that belonged to my brother and sister. Friends and distant relatives that attended the funeral were all sad and teary of course, but when people are grieving, they need someone to blame. Naturally, I was the only one that had survived, so I was blamed. Not out loud of course, but I heard it in their heads. The people that had come to comfort me looked at me like a freak, wondering how and why I survived when my family, along with every other person, hadn't.

Two taps sounded on the doorframe, pulling me out of my dark, clouded thoughts. "Ash, honey? You alright?" Blake asked worriedly, taking in the room as well as the sight before him. He saw me, and I saw my slumped body from behind in his mind, clouded by worry and anxiety. He wanted to embrace me, but wasn't sure how I'd react. I composed myself and wiped my face turning to glance at him in reassurance.

"I'll be fine. It's just … a lot to take in." I grinned sadly at him and let Sweetie out of her cage, setting her on her bed. She curiously stepped out and sniffed around, getting used to the place I assumed.

Blake placed his hands on his hips, looking lost for words. He wanted to leave me be, let me get used to my new room, but he didn't like seeing me this way.

"Alright well .. bathroom's downstairs on the left … you know where the kitchen is," At this he smiled, remembering my fourteen year old self as I had bounded toward the food. "Um, a friend of mine at the hospital has a daughter around your age. She gave me a lot of clothes of hers, so feel free to try them on if you want." He pointed toward the closet. As he spoke I wondered around the room, inspecting picture frames and the like. "If you don't like them, or they don't fit, we can go shopping tomorrow." Probably have to get Hannah to take her though; I'm no good with that stuff. She needs a girl's day out. "Also," Blake continued, "those are your new school books. I took the liberty of getting them ahead of time for you. Your schedule should be inside, I think. You'll start at Forks High next Monday." He gave me a heartening smile and I nodded, letting him think that I was exited and happy, when I was just the opposite. I noticed a picture of my mother and father together, wearing happy smiles and holding hands. My mother was dressed in several shades of fashionable brown and my father in black. My mother had long silvery blonde hair and my father had black. They both looked back at me contentedly through the glass and I resisted tears.

Blake scratched at the stubble on his chin. "So, do you uh .. want to try out for cheerleading this year?"

I flinched, coming to a stop at a picture frame sitting on the desk next to the lamp. The picture depicted the old me in a blue and white cheerleading outfit, with pompoms at my feet. I stood in a cheering pose as my light brown hair wisped around me, visibly shorter than it was now. My green eyes were bright and my smile was authentic. I looked happy because I was. That was the old me. I left all of that behind me.

"No … I'd rather not," I replied and Blake nodded, feeling uncomfortable.

"Ok well, if you need anything, I'll be downstairs, K?"

He left the room and I heard him clatter around the kitchen.

As soon as I had unpacked and had tried on several things in the closet, I plopped down on my bed and let a few tears slide down my cheeks. So this was my new life … everything that was a month ago was gone, replaced by this new, broken me. Sweetie rubbed against my ankles and I sighed, lying down flat on my back to stare at the ceiling.

Everything will be ok, everyone had assured me at the funeral. But how could it? My family was dead … gone … My old life died along with them. How can everything be ok?