I know I said I was going to post my next story this weekend, but I'm stuck at home all week this week. No school, but no going anywhere else either. So I have a lot of time to write on my hands. Right now this is a WIP which I usually hate to post, but so far I have 10 chapters written, so I don't think I'll be becoming one of those authors who never finish. Grrr…don't like that. So yeah, longer than most of mine.

Also, to anyone this applies to: Something (many things) is wrong with my computer. So the review button keeps freezing whenever I try to review. So I haven't abandoned a bunch of the stories I was reading. I was planning to review them on my school library computer but then that plan fell through until next week. I know Coveted-one, and a few others I can't think of have stories I have to still review. I will do it, I solemnly swear. ;)

Disclaimer: I wish

Chapter 1/?

He barely noticed the rain drenching him nor the wind biting through his clothes and bones. Thunder shook the ground beneath him and lightening illuminated his scarred face as he stumbled down the city streets toward his destination.

What that destination was, he didn't know. His hazy mind absorbed the feel of the pavement under each step. His ankle throbbed as it took the weight. Why?

He didn't know from where he'd come. Everything except the past hour had been swallowed in the storm. All he knew was that walking. Had he done this his whole life? Had his life begun an hour ago?

Something big was in front of him. Building. He turned and stepped out off the curb. A car screeched to a halt inches away from him. Its driver leaned out and started yelling at him. But the words were lost in another clap of thunder. He stared dazedly at the driver a moment longer, than continued walking.

This street right here looked familiar, as if he'd seen it in a dream. But that was impossible because life was walking. A lonesome journey with no beginning or end.

Back on the sidewalk now. Men with umbrellas and dry suits brushed past him, giving him dirty looks as his sopping cloak dampened their jackets.

Was he dead? Maybe this was what death was. No memory of yourself, just a shadow in the living world.

Two little ones ran by holding hands, their braided hair swinging, flicking water. The fog in his mind was now as heavy as the fog he walked in. The girls disappeared as soon as they had entered his life.

He kept walking, letting his feet bring him where they would. They carried him down a side street. There were no people there.

Serious. The word floated through his head as he gazed up at the decrepit building in front of him. But what was serious? Was it the fact that he'd dreamed of this house too?

Water ran from his hair into his eyes, making him feel like he was crying. Was he crying? He had been crying earlier. Why was he here?

The door swung open and he ducked behind a trashcan for cover. Danger! His mind screamed at him.

A figure had come out, a short, plump shadow. She carried a lit stick, the glowing tip lighting up the front walkway. He buried his head in his arms. If he couldn't see her, she couldn't see him.

The light stopped on his hiding place. She stepped closer, holding the flame in front of her. The rain bounced off it.

"Remus?" she called.

He ran.