Hi again! Here goes the first chapter...

Lucifer-Thanks a lot for reviewing! You're the first to do so and I'm so very happy that I've updated earlier just for you. Thanks again!

Another thing, I won't update if there are no reviews...

Disclaimer: Nothing but the plot is mine!


Chapter 1: Dreaming realities

Since I was a little child, I've had very vivid dreams that stayed fresh in my mind for a long time even after I had woken up. Sometimes, I knew they were dreams and I could change them at my will; other times, I was made to suffer one thing again and again and again until I comprehended the message they seemingly wanted to show me.

I suppose that's the reason why when I found the answer to my problems during the daylight hours, the dreams that represented those fears also dissapeared.

That's why, when that fateful 8 of september at eigth o'clock in the morning, first school day of the year, I opened my eyes to see a room that was not in any way even remotely similar to the one I've left when I'd fallen sleep the night before, I neither screamed nor got scared. I just tried to discern whether or not I was still dreaming.

Sometimes, I feel like I have a behavioral disorder, some kind of mental disfunction that hinders me when I try to act normally. I've got "friends" with whom I've been hanging out for a long time, but I don't actually trust any of them no matter if they haven't actually done anything to make even a paranoid suspect something's up. It gets to the point where, to put an example, I extremelly dislike (and go to extremes to avoid) picking lint off of a person's face, however, and this is diconcerting, I actually love close-contact with my close-knit family, so much so that people who know me can't reconcile the person I am with them with the person I am with my parents.

As if it wasn't horrible already, you just gotta add my Darcy complex...For those who do not know what I'm talking about (please read Pride and Prejudice...now) when I get nervous, instead of blushing or anything, you know, normal like that, my back goes ramrod straight to the point I can actually hear my vertebraes crunch and in my face appears a smirk dripping with superiority and condescension trademark of Xellos Metallium of The Slayers (or Sesshomaru-sama) so that I seem to be the most pridefull and distant thing in my side of the world (just-like-Darcy) and just a tiny bit psychotic. Well, unless, somebody in need of help happens to come by, nanosecond in which my stupid, stupid brain makes a 180 degrees turn making me a real Knight in Shiny Armor of whoever the hell is in trouble this time, I should just open an NGO and be done with it.

If my social life is pitiful (I don't leave home later than 10 pm usually, I despise discos, pubs and the infernal noise), my love life (or lack of one, that is) is even worst. The closest I've been to kissing a guy my age has been on the cheek when saying hello, 'cause unfortunately, between my little (huge) trust problems and the living proof that most youngsters are frivolous and shallow...

In addition, I'm a complete inept at catching on whether or not someone has the hots for me, which makes me be constantly in shock when asked out 'cause I've never even considered having a relationship with them; my first reaction: running away. You hear? Running away.

I foresee myself as an bitter old maid surronded my thousands of cats...

But getting back on track.

There I was, with my stomach stuck somewhere in my throat, when my mother bursts in my room with her ubiquitous poise and noisy good mornings. I'm sure she said something, and judging by the way her mounting frustation was showing on her face, I'm also certain that it was important; but I was completely unable of actually closing my mouth (which had dropped open) and use it to do something productive. The thing was that that bed was most certainly not my bed, the bedroom was not mine either but the woman who had just entered was my mother. It seems she couldn't see anything wrong with the picture; and I, well, I confess I am absentminded and prone to daydreaming but not enough to have my room changed without realizing it, eh?

I abruptly kissed goodbye to the black hole my innermost thoughts had become when my beloved mother left on the covers of my bed a school uniform just before turning around and leaving my room.

W-ait a moment, please... since when (and in what parallel reality) my uniform is a deep rose pink?

What the heck is going on?


Well, how was it? And remember... read and review!