A/N: I suck at intros… so withought further ado, here is my story :3

Notes: Italics innocent, child-like Samara

Bold Vengeful Samara

Takes place after Eola and right before Samara is thrown into the well.

Imaginary

By Blissful Ignorance

I like this place. I come here often to think about nice things, and watch the sun rise. It's so beautiful you wouldn't believe. It's like an escape from my reality in the barn. Here, it's not real. It's the opposite. An illusion. In the barn, I have my dark life. In it, I make everyone suffer for what they did to me. I think of dark, creepy things and of how to hurt them.

You know, sometimes you get tired of being in the dark all of the time. I miss the light, and everything that coincides with it. The trees, whispering their stories to me. The wing, caressing my fact. The sun above, warming my heart.

When I am in the dark, I forget what it's like to be in the light…

I stood by my well, in the light of the purple sunrise, singing my song softly:

Here we go

The world is spinning

When it stops

It's just the beginning

Sun comes up

We laugh and we cry

Sun goes down

And then we all die

I began picking wildflowers that grew in the meadow when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted those wretched horses grazing. The beasts of my awake time. Why were they here, in my beautiful dreaming? I glared at them and tried to stop the evil, creepy, dark thoughts from entering my tranquil mind and taking over. I forced myself to think of the nice things surrounding me now. I lay down on my back in the soft, lush grass and watched my purple-pink sky fly over me.

Why couldn't things always be like this?

I'll tell you why. It isn't, because that's how life is. It would be better if life were a dream. Dreams aren't real.

I'm not real.

To be real, you have to have someone who believes in you.

Mommy believes in me.

Mommy's crazy. You made her that way.

We made her that way.

Mommy wanted me. She tells me. She says all she ever wanted was me…

Daddy doesn't want me. He never did. Daddy hates me. Daddy loves the horses.

I glared once more at the horses grazing in the field opposite of my meadow.

No, bad Samara. Think of nice things.

But I couldn't anymore. Darkness began to take over my as I heard Mommy approaching me from behind with the plastic bag.

She said her line, and as my dreaming ended, life went back into motion.

I looked up at my purple sky, and told it farewell.

/Everlasting

Neverending

Done.