If you didn't like this, I'm sorry. I have all of the Chronicles of Narnia books, but I don't exactly know how to write this...kinda. I'm used to writing fics for Percy Jackson. I'm not so sure if Tarah is Mary-Sue, but if you think she is, just tell me, and I'll do my best to change her. Anyway, tell me what you think by reviewing!

~CampHB

~Chapter 1: The Other Side of the Door~

The house was dark and empty when I stepped in. I stood there in total blackness, no sign of my mom. There was a paper clip in my hand that I'd used to pick the lock on the door. Somali's mom had dropped me off at the apartment a few minutes ago.

"Hello?" I called.

Nothing. There was a sudden moan.

"Hello?" I flicked on the lights in the kitchen. She wasn't there.

"Hello? Anybody?" I searched her bedroom. Then I went into my room.

My mom and her newest boyfriend Paul were on my bed, kissing heatedly. Paul moved down to her neck and she groaned. They didn't notice me at all. I stood frozen in the doorway, shocked. Paul started to slide his hand under her shirt when I suddenly screamed.

"Get away from her!" I shrieked. I pulled his arm and tried to drag him off the bed. He raised his hand and hit me hard across the cheek.

"Get out!" he shouted. "Get out!"

"No! Stop it!"

My mom looked up from the bed. "Tarah, go."

"No! What are you doing in my room? Get out! It's my room!"

Paul struck me again, drawing blood this time. "Go, little bitch. Leave."

"No! You get out! You don't live here!" I kicked him in the gut and he doubled over in pain. I punched his face and shoved him down the hall and into the kitchen.

"Get out of my house!" I pushed him into the apartment corridor and slammed the door in his face, locking the door securely.

"Tarah! No! Why'd you do that?" Mom grabbed an open bottle of wine from the counter.

"He's not even supposed to be here! Why'd you lock me out?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter," she replied. She lifted the glass container up and drank some of the alcohol. "Just don't do that again. You're going to ruin my reputation if you keep on interrupting my sessions."

"What reputation? Why should I listen to you?"

"I'm your mom. You're supposed to obey me."

"A mom? You sure don't act like one."

"I'm still your mom." She stared at me pointedly.

"My mom? You aren't my mom!" I yelled. "A mom loves her kids and cares about them. Have you ever cared about me?"

"But I do care," she protested. "I do love you."

"Oh, sure you care," I said sarcastically. "Sure you care. Yeah, you cared when your jerk boyfriend Jean punched me. He hit me. He practically abused me! Did you stop him? No!"

"Tarah, I'm over him," she said, blowing hair out of her eyes. She shrugged and took another sip of wine from the bottle.

"Stop!" I yanked the wine bottle out of her hands and smashed it against the floor, sending glass shards scattering on the ground. "Stop it! You never cared about me! You never loved me! Just admit it. It's not that hard! What happened today is proof!"

"I love you. I care. You don't understand."

"I don't understand. Yeah! I don't understand. Maybe you don't understand either. Do you know how it feels to be alone at home, thinking that every shadow was going to reach out and grab you? No! You don't! I was three then! You were out at the bar downtown and left me alone. Do you know how scared I was?" I shouted.

"No, you really don't get it. Tarah, I gave up everything for you. I left everything else behind so that you could have a better future. I—" she told me, eyes pleading.

My heart hardened. "A better future? A better future? What kind of future? A future that involved you locking me out of the house in the cold today so that you could have who-knows-what with your boyfriend Paul? What kind of future is that? Did you ever think about me, huh?" My voice rose higher and higher. "My future is filled with miserable events. I have stupid, dumb, brainless, dense, shallow, drug and alcohol-addicted slut-of-a-woman ruining my life, and she will never, ever, ever be my mom or be called my mom. EVER!"

She reeled back, shocked. A look of hurt crossed her face. She started to whimper softly.

I wasn't finished yet, though; I was on a roll. "I hate you!" I screamed. "I hate you! I never want to see you again! I wish you never gave birth to me! I wish I never was your kid!"

I glared at her, daring to object. She stayed with her head down, her body racking with soundless sobs.

"I'm leaving." I slung my backpack over my shoulder, already packed with essential needs.

Before I took a step near the door, I paused and looked back; half hoping she would say something. She finally moved, taking out a cigarette and lighter. She flicked the wheel on the red igniter, completely ignoring the fact that I was still there.

"Stop! This is exactly what I'm talking about! You don't care!" I swatted the lighter out of her hand. The flame fell to the ground, catching fire on the carpet. "I hate you. I wish you were dead," I said through clenched teeth.

The fire that the single flame had started began to gobble up material greedily. Even though it was happening in front of her, she didn't move. She was frozen, like she couldn't believe what was happening. The hungry blaze spread around our apartment, burning down everything that stood in its path. The chair she was lounging on caught on fire. The hot tongues of heat extended near my feet, and I decided to get away from there as fast as I could.

I ran away from the building. The last thing I remember were her soft brown eyes, staring into mine, full of sorrow and love. An anguished cry tore from her throat, like one of a wounded animal's, as she watched me leave. Then, she burst up into flames…

The flames got closer and closer, heat spreading out. I willed my legs to go faster, but they wouldn't move. The fire was only a few inches away. The bright blaze engulfed me and my vision filled with darkness, only her sad eyes watching me…

...I woke up breathing heavily, cold sweat dripping down my back. To clear myself from the nightmare, I shook my head.

The fragments of my dream stood out vibrantly. They pulsed wildly across my brain.

It's just a dream, I chanted in my mind. Just a dream.

Despite my thoughts, I knew that it was more than a nightmare. It had happened. How old was I now? Fourteen? It had been four years since I ran away and since my mother had burned down with our apartment. Four years that the police had searched for me. Four years that I had been running away from the government. Four years that my mother's death had become a burdening guilt.

I broke away from the painful memories and crawled out of my makeshift shelter of a stall in the subway bathroom. My legs were cramped from sleeping in a curled position in the small booth. I stretched and walked out of the subway station, determined to start a new day.

New York City was loud, noisy, and full of life. I was jostled around as I tried to locate the nearest place to buy food.

"Hey!" a man yelled as I pushed past him.

I ignored him and kept on going forward. Stupid pedestrians. They didn't know where they were walking.

A nearby taxi honked its horn as I darted in front of it on the street, weaving my way through traffic.

"'Scuse me, 'scuse me," I muttered as I ducked past people to get to a hot dog booth.

There weren't a lot of people waiting in line the little cart. The smell of cooking meat wafted to my nose. When it was my turn, I dug out a few precious bills that I thieved a few days ago.

"A hot dog," I said.

The man snapped his gum loudly. "That'll one dollar plus tax," he mumbled as he started to take the bun from the plastic bag. I didn't remember a hot dog being that expensive.

I soon received my prized hot dog and found a small coffee-shop to sit down at. The hot dog was warm. The bun was soft, and the sausage was juicy. I sniffed it delicately, taking in the smell. It was gone in a matter of seconds. My stomach growled for more, since it was the first food I had eaten in two days.

There were lots of people crowded on the sidewalk that spring morning. I stood clustered next to them while I waited for the 'walk' signal at the other side of the street. A few adults gave me strange looks as we stood impatiently. I pretended that they weren't there. Almost everyone seemed to give me weird glances.

Two days ago in Albany, I'd stolen a diamond ring. It beautiful; the band was 24K gold and the diamond itself was the size of a pea with tinier diamonds embedded around it. The ring was from an apartment somewhere in Albany that I decided to loot. My closest hideout was in Virginia and located in an abandoned building. After buying some more provisions, I would go to a jewelry shop or something like that. There, I would see if I could sell it to get some money, since I was already broke and couldn't keep on stealing from houses.

I swung open the door to a small breakfast shop and went inside. There was a bathroom located at the other side of the shop, and I decided to wash my face. I was probably dirty after three days of travel. I walked across the floor and swung open the door marked 'Ladies'.

The mirror reflected my image back to me: light brown hair bound back in a ponytail; brown eyes; high cheekbones and a well-defined jaw; and a streak of dirt across my forehead. I splashed cold water across my face, rubbing away the dirt. Some paper towels dried my face for me.

While judging how I felt, I noticed the facility door behind. It was made out of thick tree branches wrapped around a wooden frame, and had deep carvings engraved on it. The door's surface looked rough and was made out of tree bark.

"What?"

I whipped my head around and stared at the door. It was normal. I looked back in the mirror again. It was that mystical entrance, this time with vines and bright flowers sprouting on the branches. The blossoms' sweet fragrances smelled fresh. There was no handle on the door, like it wasn't meant to be opened.

"That's weird," I murmured.

I took a cautious step to the entry. It was like any other ordinary one that you see now. I took another. It still looked the same. But as I got closer, the image flickered between a solid wood door and a passageway to fantasy realm.

Soon the characters inscripted on the door were visible:

Knock, and the door shall be opened unto you.

It wouldn't hurt to try, I considered. But what if there's something I'm not supposed to see behind it.

My curiosity finally took over. I reached up and rapped lightly on the opening three times. Nothing happened for a few moments. Then it swung open slowly. I gasped.

On the other side was a forest with tall trees, each casting a tall shadow in the light of the rising sun. Birds chirped and soared around. Squirrels raced from tree to tree, collecting nuts in their mouths. A cool breeze made its way to me. It smelled like clean air.

It was the most amazing sight I had ever seen. For once something was peaceful and gorgeous in my life. I couldn't believe it.

I wasn't sure exactly what to do next. There could be something dangerous on the other side, though it was unlikely. Would I rather stay in NYC or in an enchanted forest? Urban or rural? Loud and noisy or quiet and serene? I had to admit, the other side seemed more pleasing.

I stepped through the passageway and landed on the green grass. The entrance was still behind me, picturing the small bathroom.

I'll just look around for five minutes, I silently thought. Just five minutes. Then I'll go back.

Then I set off.

Whew! This chapter was really hard to write, since there wasn't a lot of action. Well? What did you think? If you really didn't like this so far, I don't have to continue. Just click the review button and tell me...nicely, please.

~CampHB