It's hard to remember, but I'm pretty sure the real start of it all was that night eleven years ago.

I had just woken up in a large white room. There were people in the room, all of them speaking some language I didn't understand. Every now and then I would catch bits and pieces of what they were saying, but none of it ever seemed to make sense.

It was when I was finally free to leave that white room that things started to clear up; I was assumed to be an abandoned orphan, yet another child left to die on her own. I must've been one of the lucky ones. One that was given a second chance at a life that had just begun.

The first memory I have is of waking up in that white room. People say I was traumatized to the point where it was easier for my mind to reject the reality of what had happened. I don't believe this for a second, but my past doesn't seem to matter anymore. I was adopted by a woman overseas in America, and that's where my life so far started. Now I'm here, running for my life and wondering how it was that fiction could give way into reality.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. To really understand, I need to start from a few weeks ago.

(Spring 2014)

Staring at my bumpy dry wall ceiling was proving to be a pointless time waster. The previous summer I'd made it my goal to count every last lump, but after reaching about 3000 I gave up.

I rolled over onto my side and closed my eyes as I waited for the alarm clock to go off. One of them opened and glanced at the glowing LED screen. It was only 4:22. It was about an hour before I was supposed to get up, but the dreams kept me awake again.

With a sigh, I pulled the comforter over my head and I tucked my knees to my chest. The soft fleece of my PJ bottoms seemed to give off a sense of comfort that then spread throughout my body. My eyes closed and I was able to relax, the visions calming down with my mind.

It wasn't that these were nightmares; there was nothing scary about them, in fact. It was the uncertainty and the feeling of great distance that left me sitting on my bed uneasily. Ever since my fifteenth birthday I'd been having these dream-visions, but I hadn't told anyone. Not even my mom. Always they included a foreign city with people that looked eerily like the people I'd always cared about and even the people I didn't care for. They spoke a language that I'd never heard before, yet I could understand it almost fluently. Moments before I'd wake up I'd hear a voice, closer than all the others, whisper in my ear. "You will never belong here."

My eyes stayed shut as I thought over the dream-vision. The beeps of my alarm interrupted my thoughts and it became apparent that I'd fallen asleep again.

Dammit, I thought as I pushed off my covers.

"Reeva!" I heard my mom call from down stairs. "Time to get up!"

Letting out a loud yawn, I swung my legs over the side and let my head hang. Copper tinted blonde hair brushed against the back of my neck and hung slightly in my face, the crop cut hair tickling my skin. I ran a hand through it, marveling at how my hair could be so soft.

Now I'm grateful I let Nicki cut my hair, I thought as I shimmied out of the PJ bottoms, trading them for a pair of jeans with holes and pen drawings scattered sporadically on the legs. My mom had stopped caring about the state of my clothes when I started doing my own laundry. I strapped on my bra and slipped on one of my dark grey tees. A pair of dark purple high-tops and the hoodie I'd modified with cat ears completed my outfit for the day.

I hopped down the stairs and met my mom in the dining room.

"Maybe I should start getting you up earlier," she commented.

I rolled my eyes before smiling at her. She shook her head at me, but I knew she was smiling on the inside.

"I'll be fine mom, I've got plenty of time to get to school," I assured her.

Nodding again, she handed me a plate loaded with bacon and scrambled-all-to-hell eggs. She used a whisk once they were in the pan to get them to a state of ultra-fluffiness. It was something that could always be used to make me happy.

After enjoying my breakfast, I kissed my mom on the cheek and got my backpack from the living room couch before starting down the sidewalk.

I went next door to get Kaya. She was already sitting outside on her porch.

"You coming?" I asked her with a smile.

She looked up and met my gaze with a grin. "Hehe, yup," she said. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a braid that swung back and forth with each step she took.

"So did you finish the homework?" I asked her as we crossed the street and got onto the sidewalk that led to our school.

The sigh that followed gave me an answer to this question. "No," she grumbled.

My eyes narrowed into a glare before I shook my head. I was turning into Pushy Reeves, but I wanted my friend to do well. Unfortunately for me, I often ended up sounding like my mom.

"I could always go over to your place and make sure you get it done."

Kaya let her shoulders slump forward. "No, you don't have to do that," she said before explaining herself. "I was skyping with Nellie last night and lost track of time."

I rolled my eyes at my bisexual best friend. "If I have to tell off your girlfriend I'll do it," I threatened.

Her eyes grew wide and she reeled back slightly. "No way in hell!" she protested loudly.

"Then stop wasting time!" I yelled back. "Even if the second semester just started, your GPA sucks so badly you have to bring your grades up!"

"Hey now," she started in an offended tone. "A 2.5 isn't all that bad."

"You had a 3.75 last year," I stated, causing her to stiffen. "You managed to go down that far in just one semester."

"That's not fair," she argued. "That was freshman year. That's always easier."

I rolled my eyes at her again before smacking the back of her head. She stumbled forward a couple feet and turned around to glare at me.

Smiling, I offered her my hand, which she happily took. I always knew how to please her.

Kaya and I went to your usual cookie-cutter high school. Nothing at all was special about it. Well, except for one thing…

We sat down at our usual table outside of the cafeteria while we waited for the first bell to ring and for our other friends to arrive.

The first ones to show up were Eric and Max. They both had blonde hair, but Eric (the elder brother) wore it longer and in a braid. Why? I'd never asked. As for Max, his hair was clean cut short. They both had brown eyes so light they looked almost gold. The two were born in Germany, but shortly afterwards they moved to our little town with their dad. I'd never met the man, which was weird considering the number of times I'd been over to their place with the others.

After them came Nellie, Kaya's girlfriend and the only other official member of the group. Her skin was tanned and she had dark brown hair. She and Kaya had been together since the beginning of sophomore year, even though I'd caught Kaya sneaking looks at various guys that happened to pass by.

The two girls gave each other hugs and sat next to each other. Afterwards, Eric helped Nellie with chemistry homework while Max and Kaya talked about some book that they'd read. The unofficial member, my junior friend Nicki, stopped by the table briefly to give me my hug before heading for the rest of her group.

The day was starting out as usual. I looked over my group of close friends before reaching into the front pouch of my backpack for a black sharpie.

I pulled my leg up on the seat with me and tapped my knee with the marker, contemplating what I could draw next. This pair of jeans was starting to run out of regular space and the only real place for me to doodle was on my butt. I couldn't exactly do anything there while sitting or while in front of two guys, no matter how close we were, so I decided to draw a vine going down my leg.

I pulled off the cap and started the line at the rim of my pocket. From there it travelled down, weaving in between and around the rest of the drawings. Once the line was done, I went back and added leaves and little flower buds. It took me about ten minutes before I was interrupted by the ringing of the first bell, signaling the students to start heading to their classes.

Eric waited for me to get my stuff while the others went off to their first classes. I gave him a smile once my bag was on my back and we started for Algebra II.

Unfortunately for the two of us, the classroom was on the fourth floor. Neither of us said anything the whole way up. Eight flights of stairs could really wear a person out, and by the time we were sitting down we were both sweating. We exchanged glances and smiled at each other. I'd never admit it, but those smiles were what made me start to fall for him. Whether or not the feeling was mutual was another question I wasn't going to ask him. Not yet anyway.

The remainder of the day up until my fourth, and luckily last, class was insignificantly dull. It was the same as the rest of my semester had been; only slightly different material.

This is the something special. My fourth period class was Creative Writing with my currently favorite teacher, Mr. Herman. His hair was short and black and he wore thin framed glasses that made him look older, even though he was only about 30 or so. On his desk were pictures of him, his wife, and their daughter. Everyone knew that when he brought out new pictures, it was best to run as far away as possible.

I was still in the hallway when the last tardy bell rang.

"Dammit," I swore before I started running. My teacher was standing in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest and his eyes narrowed at me.

"You're late Reeva," he said, glaring at me as I took my seat. "Next time it happens it's in-school-suspension."

I nodded as if I cared, knowing full well that his threats were as empty as my mom's.

Once everyone was settled down, Mr. Herman came up to the front white board to give us our newest writing prompt.

"Okay guys," he started. "I've given it some thought and I've come to the conclusion of what your Final assignment will be."

My eyes travelled upwards towards him while I forced my notebook out of my bag.

Mr. Herman turned around and uncapped the dry-erase marker. On the board he wrote P-A-R-A-L-L-E-L W-O-R-L-D-S in big letters. I pulled my pencil out of the spiral and wrote down our new topic.

"I'm giving you guys the ultimate challenge. I want you to write about a world or worlds that you've created. Because it's a parallel world there should be significant differences between that one and our world. What are the people like? How do they act? What's the planet itself like? You have a lot of room to go on with a topic this vague, so I'm anticipating some excellent work." He recapped the marker. "Oh wait, I almost forgot to tell you! The student that does the best on this assignment will have his or her piece published in the local paper."

My eyes grew wide at this statement, the mere thought of possibly getting published motivating me.

"I'll give you the first half of class to brainstorm, then after that we're back on normal schedule." My teacher left us all to converse with one another.

My notebook had various ideas scribbled on it by the time that Mr. Herman stepped back up to the front.

"This story will be due at the end of the semester and will count towards your Final grade," he said, erasing what he'd written on the board. "Put what you have done so far away. We've got more work to do."

I didn't pay much attention to Mr. Herman as he carried on with the lesson. Among the incomprehensible scribbles was one idea I'd written in big, blocky letters; MAGIC. Of course I didn't know exactly how I wanted to incorporate magic into another world. There had to be something behind the magic that made sense as to why it worked, not just 'wave a magic wand and something floats.' I didn't want to come up with cheesy spells either, nor did I want to call them wizards. The whole thing had become stereotypical of a story that takes place on a different world, and I was barely able to keep myself from pulling my hair out from frustration.

Gah! I thought as I put my hands up to my head, trying to stay as casual as normal while Mr. Herman talked. This is going to end up killing me! A magic that makes sense? It's magic because it doesn't make sense! What am I thinking trying to do a topic like this!?

I ran my hands through my choppy hair and sighed quietly before bringing my feet up to the bars under my desk. Just do something else Reeves. It can't be that hard to think of something?

The thoughts that were supposed to reassure me did nothing to help. I glanced down at the scribbles. My hand writing was so bad I couldn't even read my ideas. Giving up, I pushed my notebook aside and closed my eyes. Soon I was at the halfway point between sleep and awake.

A loud yawn escaped my lips as I walked down the street, this time joined by the brothers. Nellie and Kaya had gone to the Café to finish a project and despite how tired I was I wasn't in the mood for coffee.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" Eric asked me.

I glanced up at him and sighed. "Kinda, sorta…" My words were cut off by a second yawn. "I woke up earlier than normal because of a… dream." It was the easiest way to describe what it was.

"You mean like a nightmare?" Max asked me.

My gaze traveled down and I shook my head. "No, not really, but it does creep me out a bit. It's always in this big city with old fashioned buildings, kinda like the historical district of the capital. And everywhere I look there are familiar faces. I've seen you guys and the others, but you're different."

Eric frowned. "What did you mean by always?"

I blinked at him, unsure of what he meant. "Hm?"

"You said always a second ago, so does that mean you've dreamt this before?" he pried.

His golden eyes seemed to stare into my soul and I was forced to answer my friend.

"You win!" I said with my hands up, surrendering to stop his insistent glaring. With another sigh I resumed. "Okay, you've caught me. I've been having this same dream almost every night since my birthday."

"Reeves!" Max nearly shouted, something that had never happened before. The only time he raised his voice was when Eric was being an idiot, and I was slightly taken aback with his reaction. His tone went back to normal as he continued. "Why didn't you say something sooner? Your birthday was nearly five months ago."

I looked away. A guilty feeling found its way into my heart and my chest got tight. I straightened the straps of my backpack and swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "But it's not as there's ever been that good of a time to have brought it up, and it's not that bad. I mean… It's just sleep. I can get that during English." I smiled slightly, trying to brighten up the mood. It didn't seem to be working.

We walked the last few blocks to their house in silence. My chest got tighter when Max went into the house first, leaving me with Eric.

My head stayed down, my lengthy bangs covering the right side of my face. When it was the two of us we would usually stay quiet, neither of us sure about what to say.

"Uh, Reeva?" he started, causing me to look up. My close friends rarely called me Reeva. Reeves was the nickname that I had grown accustomed to, and my real name was used by adults or people I didn't like.

Eric wasn't looking at me. His hands were in the pockets of his hoodie, and his focus was somewhere distant.

"Yeah?" I asked him.

He nervously met my gaze before rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about overreacting back there. It's just that I don't like feeling useless."

I laughed lightly at him and offered him a smile. "It's fine dude. You guys' being quiet messed with my head more than anything I could dream up."

He returned the smile and lowered his hand. "Careful there. You might jinx yourself."

"Tch," I scoffed with a half-smile. "Don't worry; I think I can handle it." I paused as I thought. "Okay. How about this? If I need help with anything, you'll be the one I turn to."

I felt my face get warm, but I probably wasn't even pink. I refused to let him see me blush.

Eric returned my smile. "Sure," he said. "So, I'll see you at school tomorrow?"

"Yeah, okay," I said with a nod.

He nodded and started down his driveway, leaving me to walk home the rest of the way by myself.

My phone vibrated in my pocket as I tossed my back pack on the couch. I sighed.

It's either Mom or Kaya, I thought as I fished the small phone out of my pants.

I furrowed my eyebrows at the picture that was sent to me from an unknown number. It was a picture of what looked like a pentagram, only about ten times more complex. It was drawn on the ground in what I assumed was chalk. My eyes grew wide when I read what was beneath the picture.

-You will never belong, but let's see you try.-

A quiet squeak escaped my lips as I dropped my phone. It fell to the floor with a hard slap, but I knew it wasn't broken. I stared at it, wondering who the hell was texting me.

The screen lit up and the phone vibrated across the floor, sounding with a buzz while I squeaked again. Swallowing my fear, I dared to look at what this second message said.

-Don't be scared. Think of it as a puzzle, and you're an extra piece that doesn't fit. I'm curious to know why you exist. So go on. Draw the circle and you'll see.-

At this point I was close to shaking. Nervousness started to take over as I crouched down and picked my phone back up.

-Who are you and how do you know so much about me? - I typed before clicking send.

The response was almost immediate. –You don't need to know that just yet. Just draw the circle. Your fate will be determined from there.-

I was scared. Honestly and truly scared. Is this a dream? Did I fall asleep during fourth period and I'm just imagining all of this?

-Go on- the next message read.

My whole body was trembling at this point. I stuffed my phone into my pocket and ran out the door.

I told him he'd be the one I turn to. I hope I can do this.

I ran as fast as I could to Eric's house down the street a few blocks. Barely even tired, I began pounding on the door.

"I got it!" I heard Max call from inside. His face was confused when he saw me. "Reeves? Are you okay?"

"I need to talk to Eric," I said, not answering his question.

He nodded slightly, keeping an eye on me.

"Hey Brother!" he called out, still not looking away.

"What!?" I heard Eric shout from the other room.

"Reeva's here! Says she needs to talk to you!"

Footsteps sounded as he came into the hallway. His face shifted from curious to confused in a matter of seconds.

"Is everything okay?" he asked while Max left.

Not sure how to answer, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him out the door, closing it once he was out next to me.

"Reeves, are you okay?" he repeated.

I was still shaking from earlier and now my legs were trembling from my run. I held up a hand, as if to ask for a moment, as I back up into the railing on his porch. I was breathing heavily and the look on Eric's face had shifted from confused to concerned.

He reached out to me and gripped my shoulders gently, as if I was fragile. "Hey," he said in a calm tone. "What's going on?"

My hand reached up and pushed his hands from my shoulders. I swallowed and reached into my pocket. My fingers scrolled through the previous messages until they reached the picture of the circle.

"Someone sent me this," I said, handing him the cell phone. His brows furrowed as he took it. After a few seconds, he looked back at me. His mouth opened to speak but I cut him off.

"In the dream I told you about there's always this one part that always causes me to wake up. It's a voice in the background saying I will never belong there. I don't know what that means, but apparently this guy does."

Eric shook his head and he handed me my phone. "Are you actually going to do what he wants?" he questioned.

My brain froze as it processed this. I hadn't thought about what would come next, all I knew was that I didn't want to be the only one knowing about this.

The phone buzzed in my hand, distracting me. Eric stepped around to read the message that had just come in.

-I know you want to know. Know about eleven years ago. Know who and what you are. You're dying to know, so go ahead. Just draw the circle and you'll know.-

The shaking came back as a million questions swam through my already cluttered mind. Eric put a hand on my shoulder to try and calm me down. I heard him sigh and turned to meet his gaze.

"Come one. Let's go to the garage," he said. "I'll help you draw it."

Nodding slightly, I followed him.

In a random spot was a box of sidewalk chalk that I hadn't seen since we were kids. I opened it up and pulled out two fat, white sticks of chalk. I handed one to Eric and watched as he drew a large circle in the middle of the room. I set my phone in the middle so that we could both start working on the complex lines. It took about ten minutes, but eventually it was done.

I stared at it for a few seconds. "So what now?" I thought out loud. As if on cue, my phone buzzed again. I stepped forward into the circle and paused, as if waiting for something to happen, before reaching down and picking it up.

-There's something missing. A special ingredient. Do you know what it is?-

My brows furrowed at this and it buzzed once more.

-I guess not. Blood. Specifically, your blood. That's the last thing needed to complete this.-

Eric noticed my wide eyed expression and stepped around to read over my shoulder.

"Reeves, don't even think about it," he warned.

The grip I had on my phone tightened. I let my head hang slightly so my hair could block my face. Eric was too good at reading my expressions, and for good reason. We'd been friends for a number of years now.

Flashes of my first memories came to mind and then memories of the dreams. They had to be connected somehow, along with the text messages.

Maybe whoever's sending me these messages is messing with my head, but a chance to understand what happened may never come again. I don't really want to have to get hurt for it, but lose some gain some I suppose.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. Eric backed up slightly at this. I didn't even give him a chance to speak as I turned towards the tools in the back of the garage. A clean nail sat there, as if waiting for me.

"Reeves, stop this!" he pleaded, eyes wide and full of hopelessness. "This isn't like you! Is it really worth it?"

I took the nail back to the circle with me. Gritting my teeth, I dug the point into the skin on my arm and watched as red dripped down onto the white chalk.

All of a sudden a red light started to shine brightly. I looked down, eyes wide, at the fact the chalk lines were glowing.

"Reeva!" a panicked voice called out. I looked up and saw Eric try and reach for me, a horrified look on his face. Unfortunately for him I was already fading.

"You made a pretty reckless choice back there? Was it worth it?"

"I don't know yet."

"And why not?"

"I'm not anywhere yet. It's just dark right now. But…"

"But what?"

"I'm trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I did that to him. I left him like that. The look on his face..."

"You mean your little friend? Do not worry. You'll be seeing him very soon."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You'll just have to wait and see for yourself."

"I'm tired of waiting. What's happening anyway?"

"You're dreaming."

"Uh huh. Sure."

"Does this seem like reality to you?"

"… No, not really."

"Then there's your answer. But luckily the wait is over. It's time for you to wake up."