Dreaming of Willow

Willow is beautiful and mysterious and has definitely caught Xander's attention. But nobody else's. Nobody really knows Willow Rosenberg. Xander, however, is determined to find out everything, but might find out more then he wants. Pre-series AU Willow-centric

Loosely based off the book Dreaming of Amelia by Jaclyn Moriarty

And when I say loosely, I mean very loosely. It doesn't really use much of the plot, just some ideas and stuff I borrowed from it.

Willow-centric

Somewhat Xander-centric

Other characters will make appearances

Pre-Series (So there is no Buffy – she'll come in later)

A/N: XANDER IS NOT WILLOWS FRIENDS YET!!! I KNOW THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN FRIENDS SINCE THEY WERE YOUNG, BUT IN THIS STORY THEY ARE NOT!

Prologue

Xander POV

Willow was a ghost. Nobody saw her. Nobody noticed her. I didn't notice her. Only in the past week did she even cross my mind.

She was beautiful and mysterious, pale skin that was like porcelain. But not one person knew who she was. When I first actually saw her, really saw her, she was sitting in my kitchen talking to my mother. She was fully engaged in the conversation, yet almost every word was uttered by my mother. Still, she was having a conversation with my mother. Maybe for some people this would be normal, but not with my mother. My mother was spiteful and sadistic-she hated almost everybody before she even met them. Yet, low and behold, here she was laughing and joking with a girl, my age too! So, of course I became curious. How could someone get on my mother good side unless they were some kind of goddess? Not only did my mother talk to her, but she would talk about her all the time. After that incident, every time I talked to my mother it would be about that girl. I couldn't understand my mother's strange infatuation.

After a day of my mother raving about this mysterious stranger, we were sitting in the car and I suddenly became slightly more interested, like something just bubbled up inside me.

'What's her name?' I asked my mother, interrupting her most recent rant about this girl. She turned to me, her brow etching and casting a long shadow across her face.

'I..' she paused and tilted her head, brow digging in further, 'I don't know'

At this, I gave her a strange look. 'How could you talk to her for that long and not ask her name?'

'Well' my mother huffed a little and turned back to the road 'I guess it just didn't come up.'

It was her end of conversation voice, so I dropped the topic and my mother started talking about her book club.

It wasn't long, however, before the girl came up again. We sat at the kitchen table with a hot chocolate each, me staring emptily into the cup as my mother searched our cupboards for some marshmallows. The cup had a cow on it. Nothing special about that. But what caught my attention was the cows face. It looked so empty. I mentally hit myself, 'Of course it looks empty. It's a cartoon drawing'. My mother returned with the marshmallows, a little noise of success and satisfaction.

'She's in your year.' My mother stated as she sat beside me, studying my face.

'Who?'

'The girl I was talking to, who else?'

Of course. The girl. The girl my mother wouldn't be quiet about.

So she was in my year. Yet I had never seen her.

At least, I think I'd never seen her.

But I must have, if she were in my year.

I didn't say anything though, feeling the need to savour this information for a while.

And that little titbit of information into the life of the ghost girl had me hooked. I wanted to know everything. What was her name, for a start. Why had I never seen her? Where did she live? I wanted everything.

To be continued

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