Manic laughter floated around my head in circles. No matter how quickly I looked, I could not find the source of my torment in the never ending dark that surrounded me. I let out a scream of frustration that seemed to please the endless cackle as it only increased in frequency.

Tears began to stream down my cheeks as I began my mantra, curling into the fetal position. "I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be alone. Please don't let me be alone."

I shrill noise broke through the laughter.

I jumped out of my black comforter, still breathing heavily I searched for the source of the ringing noise. My alarm clock proudly displayed the time. 7:35. I thought to myself. My shift at the art supply shop down the road would begin in fifty minutes.

I groaned and fell back into my bed, throwing my arm over my eyes in the process. "I don't wanna go." I whined. "I would rather be back in school."

I had graduated from high school six months ago. I was top of my class, graduating at the age of 17. Unfortunately, I would not be able to further my studies like I wished. I simply did not have the money to. It depressed me extremely.

The owners of the apartment complex where I lived where good friends of my late parents. They allowed me to live here at a reduced price and only required rent every six months.

"Alright!" I exclaimed, "No more moping! This is going to be a wonderful day!" I put a smile on my face and jumped out of bed. I glanced through my open bedroom door.

The apartment I lived in was rather small. A small living area and kitchen occupied the entrance. I tended to keep it very neat. I had no television, I had asked for it to be removed. Instead, in front of a teal couch was a large bookcase.

It was my pride and joy, containing books on nearly every subject I could find. Even though I could not continue my schooling, I could still teach myself some new things.

I turned my gaze away and grimaced at my bedroom. Although my living area was spotless, my bedroom was less than stellar. Paints and empty canvases scattered the floor. My art was nearly as important as my books. I received discount supplies at the store I worked at and was even allowed to display some of work, hoping for commissions.

I looked at large canvas in the center of my room. It was of a grassy hill with a large harvest moon rising. I growled slightly. There was something missing.

I sighed, deciding to worry about the painting when I returned home. I picked up some clothes and walked to my bathroom.

The white tiled bathroom was teeny. A walk in shower took up a corner of space. The rest was occupied by a large counter. I leaned over and looked in the mirror, staring into my different colored eyes.

Heterochromia ran in my family on my mother's side. I remember her eyes more than anything else about her. She had one brown and one icy blue eye. I had inherited the gene and received her icy blue color in my right eye. My left was a very pale green, the only thing that I received from my father.

I ran my eyes over my thin heart-shaped face. I was very pale and burned rather than tanned in the sun. My nose was small and my eyes were large. My lips were a pale pink color that I always forced into a happy smile. My ears were pointed at the tips and stuck out of my hair a bit. I figured it was some type of birth defect. All in all I thought that I wan't too bad to look at.

I eyed the brush on the table and set to work, attempting to tame my wavy dark mauve hair. My hair used to be a pale blonde, but I dyed it once when I was 15. The color stuck so well to my hair it never really washed out. It fell to my lower back, but I could never force myself to cut it so every month or so I would trim my messy bangs. Every girl wanted to feel like a princess in some way and this was mine.

I pulled on some pale green skinny jeans and an over sized blue-green tee shirt. There were a few paint splatters on the shirt. Nearly all of my clothes had suffered for my passion. I pulled on a long black jacket that fell to my knees and some black trainers.

I glared at my incomplete painting one more time before setting off for work.

I stepped out of the complex and pulled my jacket tighter to me. Snow had started to fall last night, slightly odd for early October. I trudged my way through the slowly awakening Tokyo suburb.

The complex was on the outskirts of the city, meaning I had to walk a good distance to get to work, but it was worth it to me. I had never liked the large city. I glanced over at the small river that wound through the area before stopping in my tracks. There was someone floating face down.

My body automatically reacted and I began sprinting to the river, tossing my jacket and shoes off before diving in. The water was freezing, but I began kicking to the white form in the water. I grabbed the person and pulled them onto the grassy shore. I turned them over and was met with a very peculiar face.

A boy with long silvery hair and strange facial tattoos. I focus on that only for a moment before realizing that he wasn't moving. I placed my head on his chest and felt a very weak heartbeat.

My first aid training kicked in and I placed my hands on his chest and began to push into it, before placing my lips on his and holding his nose closed. I breathed a long breath and then continued pushing on his chest. I was about to lean over to give him another breath when he sat up quickly, knocking me back into to river.

I noted that the water was warm this time. Odd. It was so cold before. I reemerged from the river and look into the golden eyes of the boy I saved.

"Hey are you oka.." I stop my sentence midway. There were trees. So many trees. That wasn't what was supposed to be there. I should be looking at the snowy Tokyo skyline. It was warm. There was a goddamn forest surrounding me.

I started to hyperventilate and black swam across my vision. "Where am I?" I mumbled incoherently. The last thing I remember was a white blob rushing to me before I fell into the water.

"How troublesome."