Chapter one: Dream On.

I couldn't believe it. My mom was actually making me babysit my little brother on today of all days! And I was mad.

It was November third, the first snow of the year had fallen overnight, and I had to babysit Isaiah.

Of course, Isaiah is a great little brother. He is four years old, absolutely adorable, and mine. Really, he is just the most perfect child. He never does anything wrong... According to my parents and everyone else. Honestly, he just looks so darn cute nothing can EVER be his fault. Usually though, it is his fault.

Four year olds can cause a lot more damage than you'd think.

Like today, for instance: My mom has to do some shopping today, and since Dad walked out on us when Isaiah was born, I was the only other human being she trusted to watch him.

My dad was the most selfish, despicable person I had ever known. He and my mom hadn't been married when she found out she was pregnant; when she told him, he nearly left her on the spot. The only reason he married her was for the military discount. He was never really my dad; in fact, I think I saw him a grand total of ten times by the time I was twelve.

He finally came home when I was thirteen. He swore that he had changed, that he loved us, that he wanted to be with us and finally be the family we never were. He stayed long enough to get my mom pregnant again and run scared when he realized he would have another mouth to feed.

That was my father in a nutshell. He was nothing but a filthy, lying, selfish, cowardly shadow of a man. So, in all honesty, I was glad that he had never been around long enough for me to love him.

I know, that's sad, isn't it? Shame on me. I don't love my father. Well, he doesn't love me either. Never really loved my mom, either. Welcome to my world. The real bits, I mean. I tend to ignore the facts and live in my dream world.

I have the most wonderful dreams... Everything is good and happy and perfect in my dreams, and I have a friend. A real friend! He's a little golden man, and he's the one who brings me my dreams. He is the Sandman.

I've been dreaming about him all my life. When I was little I asked my mom about him, and she told me the little golden man in my dreams was the Sandman. She told me everything she knew about him, which wasn't much: He has magic sand that makes people fall asleep and dream wonderful dreams. And I've believed in him all my life.

After all, my dreamworld is all that I have. Without my dreams and the little golden man who brings them to me, I wouldn't have anything to believe in...

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. It is November third, there is snow everywhere outside, and I have to babysit my four year old little brother Isaiah when I'd much rather be hanging out with my friends somewhere.

Preferably somewhere I could go ice skating. I was never happier than when I had on a pair of skates and was gliding gracefully over the ice! It was like flying.

As I was imagining flying over the ice with my friends, I was ripped from my reverie by my little brother's voice calling my name.

"Angie!" I tore my gaze from the window and looked down at him. Blue eyes, blonde hair, fair skin, rosy cheeks. Every feature he had was from my mother. And very unlike everything about me.

I had the splotchy, greasy skin of any normal seventeen year old girl suffering from acne. I had dark blonde hair, that looked more brown than blonde and was constantly falling over my eyes. My eyes were my only decent feature. They were silver.

And when I say silver, I mean my eyes were pure, metallic silver. It was amazing. But they were so unique that ever since I was a little girl, people have pointed them out and made a big deal about them. It embarrassed me, and I hated attention. I still hate attention, actually. Not that I get much attention. And when I do, it isn't usually great...

There goes that girl again, the one with average brown hair and splotchy skin. The one who wears cheap, non-designer clothes and doesn't have a decent dress to wear to prom. She didn't even go to prom. She doesn't have a boyfriend. She isn't popular. She's such a goody goody.

What's wrong with her?

"ANGIE!" Again, Isaiah's voice brought me back to the real world. He was gripping my oversized white sweatshirt sleeve in his tiny fists, looking up at me with those big blue eyes.

"What?" His lip quivered. I sounded harsh, probably. This kid is so sensitive. I smiled at him, and knelt down so I was eye level with him. "Sorry, bud," I said gently. "What is it?"

He pointed at the window. No, at something outside...

"I wanna play," he said. I realized he was wearing snow gear.

"Outside?" I asked him, shocked. Isaiah never wanted to play outside. He nodded vigorously.

"What do you want to play?" I asked him. Honestly, I was really curious. He pulled me over to the front door, and, lo and behold, there were my ice skates.

"I wanna skate like you do, Angie," he said sweetly. "Skatin' is cool." My heart melted. I picked him up in a big bear hug.

"Aaawwww, that's sweet, Isaiah!" Then I out him down when I realized he doesn't have skates. Well, we will just have to fix that.

I pulled on a pair of boots and grabbed a hat- a soft, knitted, striped hat of yellow and white. Then I helped my delighted brother put on his shoes and earmuffs.

"Yaaaaayyyy!" He crowed. "Imma gonna go skatin' with Angie!" His enthusiasm made me laugh out loud.

"Not quite yet, though, buddy," I said as I opened the door and he started to run out. I grabbed onto the hood of his puffy blue jacket. He looks like a big blue marshmallow, I thought. "We need to go buy you a pair of skates first."

The smile on his four year old face was enough to make spending twenty bucks on a pair of skates for him worth it. We walked in the snow until we got to the store, where I let him pick out a his brand new skates. I paid for them, and he hugged me, screaming out his joyful "thank you's" at the top of his lungs.

As soon as we left the store, he ran out into the street. The busy, dangerous street.

"ISAIAH!" I screamed. There was a truck coming.

Everything moved slow motion for me then. I was running, running toward him. He seemed to be frozen in the middle of the street, just standing there, staring at the truck driving straight at him. Then he turned to look at me. And the fear in his eyes made by blood run cold.

And then I was there, pushing my little brother out of harm's way, just in time... The truck hit me instead, just like I knew it would.

It happened so fast, I barely even felt it when it hit me. I flew twenty feet and hit the brick wall of a building. I hit it hard. I couldn't focus on anything around me, my vision was so messed up.

I was seeing red. Blood. My blood, I realized. I looked around, and tried to make sense of what was going on around me. I could hear people shouting- I thought they were shouting, anyway. It was all so muffled.

But all I saw was red... And then darkness... I was suddenly so tired...

So I closed my eyes. The last thing I remember is a strange voice echoing in my head...

"Dream on, Angelique... Dream on..."

Welcome to my world! A world where dreams collide with reality, a world where you wake up in your wildest dream, a world where anything is possible...

Angelique died today... But when she wakes up, she will wake up to find that her dreams were all real. She will discover that the Sandman she has always believed in really exists, as well as other characters she has dreamed of ever since she was a child: Santa Claus, Jack Frost, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy!

But when her dream turns into a nightmare, will she have what it takes to save her newfound family? Will Angie finally become who she was always meant to be? Just you wait until I post the next chapter, and you will be able to read on and watch as Angelique begins her wondrous journey through her dreamworld.

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