Notes: I'm actually interested in how this turns out. Not too sure about the ending quite yet but will have that figured out shortly. I don't think the chapter titles will make much sense at the moment but I will explain them sooner or later.

LOL, yay for super-long chapters that are four times the length of the first. 8D;;;

Comments, reviews, critiques GREATLY appreciated. Flames, not so much. They make me sad. ):

Icy

Summary: "I can hear you." She's always dreamed of being something more, but when offered the chance to take part in adventure it's more than she can handle. The once-normal college student will be faced with choices she will find difficult to make, though will be able to find clues to her past along the way, leading her to the answers of who she was - and why the others know so much more than she does about herself. But when she is finally faced with the choice between the light and the dark (not good and evil, but the things themselves), how will she be able to choose? Or...is there a way to walk the path between, the path of the twilight? ChaseOC, rated for language.

DATE: 10-10-07

CHAPTER TWO: 4th...

dazzling...

the earth is being destroyed

proof of the one asking for freedom

darkness...

memory...

nothing exists

it exists here

footprints

the familiar scenery

whose is it?

not mine

cold look...

words that resound in my heart

silence

pierced into my chest

I wanted to exist like you

It was light—I was awake again, though didn't really want to. Music was blasting in my ears, making me wonder how I'd ever fallen asleep in the first place.

I wanted to remain in my dreams and hung on to that last bit of fantasy in my mind before I was truly awake. I suddenly bolted upright—remembering I wanted to get up early for a change—hitting my head on the ceiling above me.

"Goddammit," I muttered, rubbing my head. I still hadn't gotten used to the fact that the top bunks in the dorms were so close to the ceiling above. It gave the person on the bottom plenty of room, but on the top, you'd better hope you were either short or just kinda rolled out of bed—otherwise you'd probably hit your head. Like the situation I was currently in. This was the third time this week—I'd lost count for the weeks before but knew it was getting to the point of it being ridiculous.

A cough came from below me at the desk that formed a right angle with the lower bunk. It was my roommate—the one who had wanted to (on the first day when we didn't know each other) hang a rather large cross on the wall right next to my bed. I wouldn't have minded if it weren't one with Christ hanging from it. That…just kinda scared me. She was a very religious person, always gone by the time I got up on Sundays to go to work, hanging out with the other students at the church where they always spent most of the weekend—particularly Sunday.

"Sorry," I snapped, irritated as I felt a new bruise form under the pulsing skin below my fingers. "You try sleeping up here and waking up to a ceiling three inches away from your face. It's hard not to hit your head, and when you do it's kinda hard not to say something about it." I admit it: I'd always been a sarcastic person. But when I came to college, everything spiraled downward, more toward…cynicism. I'd cursed before, yes, but my vocabulary was increasing by the day by my finding new ways to curse—whether in English or in Spanish, French, Japanese, Chinese: any person I met in my classes that could speak another language I found were more than willing to teach me a few…er…choice words. I smiled. I remembered my first day in my biology lab, my partner, Lyris, from New York but was Japanese and had been there for half her life. She was the first to teach me some words, then my vocabulary expanded when she introduced me to a sorority that was on campus, one that boasted the most diverse female population. I'd wanted to join, but didn't have what it took to be part of one. I wasn't special, or at least I felt I wasn't. Sure, I was Russian, but that didn't set me apart nearly as much as the others.

Actually, I had never really wanted to become so involved with others. I had a social disorder, avoidant personality, that was somewhat serious from what my doctor said, but nothing—therapy, drugs—helped. I didn't want to change, anyway. It had kept me from a perfectly normal life with friends and I was pretty determined to keep it that way. The only reason I had begun talking with the other girls was because they spoke languages I knew, ones I had a bit more confidence in since it wasn't my native tongue. It sounds odd, but it's true. It was hard to form coherent sentences around strangers and people I didn't know so well. Especially males. They were the worst. I couldn't even go shopping alone, feeling everyone was staring at me. Maybe it was more paranoia than anything, but whatever the case it was especially hard looking people in the eye, making me come across as nervous and submissive, when in fact, with confidence, I was one of the most headstrong girls on campus.

Looks-wise I was like a normal American girl—silvery hair that some decided was blonde, and striking green eyes that looked very out-of-place in my home town. Actually, a lot of people asked me if I dyed my hair, which I soon learned was a question I should avoid answering, as well as questions concerning being Asian, a cosplayer, wearing contacts, and the like.

Recently, however, I had been having strange dreams. I'd at first attributed them to my music, with which I had been experimenting with, but over time I began to think otherwise. And it was always the same—taking place in a dark city that was covered in lights that were only lit sometimes. Usually it was at night, though occasionally was in the evening, or, even rarer, the day. I'd never figured out where it was. Nothing I had ever seen even remotely related to that city, so I ruled out my subconscious immediately. Not even movies I'd seen recently were like it. Music…that wasn't it either. Or video games. Or books.

Nothing.

It was something that was putting a bit of stress on my mind, and combined with my concern for grades and sports, I was getting pretty stressed overall. I thought about asking about it but didn't want to come across as some psycho college girl who can't take the workload and just wants to quit. I didn't want to quit. Not now. Not until I figured everything out.

I sighed, pulling my headphones off I swung my legs over the side of the bed frame and jumped down, grabbing my glasses from my desk shortly after, allowing me to see more than a couple feet in front of me. The distance wasn't far between the bed and the floor, and despite the fact there was a ladder I refused to use it.

My roommate, Mackenzie Ayer (otherwise known as Kensie to her friends), didn't take too kindly to the fact that I came tumbling off my bunk every morning during her "prayer time," as she called it. After the first day when we had established our religious and cultural differences she pretty much refused to talk to me, other than the occasional snide remark about my work or question about something that I rarely had the answer to. We were of different worlds, and I think she was the only one unwilling to cooperate during out time together at the dorms.

"I'm gong to head over to the house," I said, throwing on some jeans in the bathroom shared by two others in the room adjacent to ours. "Lock the door if you go out, okay?" I heard silence, hoping that it meant she heard me and just wasn't talking. Just in case, I wrote a kind note (okay, kind for me, since most things I said were sarcastic) on the whiteboard tacked to the back of the hard wooden door before I stepped outside, stepping over the bodies strewn on the floor from the previous night's party. It was the weekend, which meant that parties would go on all Saturday and Sunday (Saturday only for most people who went to church) then crashing and wishing there was more time to do homework and labs before class on Monday.

Downstairs, I nearly ran into someone moving in to the dorms—a latecomer, something that usually wasn't taken too kindly to, since friendships and bids are made at the beginning of the year. I stepped past the boxes lining the side of the lobby and outside into the cool autumn air that promised fall break soon. Just a few more days, I said to myself, pulling my knee-length hair back in a low ponytail with a hair tie.

I had actually received a bid for the house that Lyris and Iara were in, though it was a bit late and by then I had realized the true meaning of college: work. Plus, I held a full-time job down at a small restaurant on the main street on campus, which, combined with schoolwork, pretty much consumed most of my time. That, and video games, sports, and drawing. I felt like I never had any free time anymore, weighed down by the fact I was actually a scholarship student and had to exceed my expected grades and activities to keep it. I wanted to earn enough money, however, for my last two years, since it only covered the first ones. But to do this I had to work extra hours at work and take any—and I mean any—extra credit options from my professors (though there weren't too many, and when they were they didn't give much but required way too much effort for that amount of points).

On the brick walkway leading up to the house, my vision inverted suddenly, everything going grey and fuzzy. I clutched my head, dizzy, wishing I hadn't taken so many Aleeve the night before. I steadied myself on the brick wall lining the lawn, concerned for my health since this had never happened—stress, maybe? If the combined effects of stress from your work, college stuff, and dreams is bad enough it could probably be causing this—I shook my head. It was not the time to be thinking about psychology lessons from the previous week.

"Are you alright?" Erika, a kind girl with a shock of red hair that betrayed her Irish lineage immediately, came up on the walkway behind me. "You don't look too well."

"I'm…fine," I mumbled, trying to take a step but instead falling flat on my face in the grass. I felt my face burn, my vision inverting and reverting numerous times, the colors reminding me of something described as a side effect of a drug. I readjusted my glasses on my face, hoping they hadn't broken. They hadn't. "So maybe I'm not fine."

Erika helped me up, allowing me to lean on her until we got to the door where Iara was waiting, a concerned look on her face when she saw me.

"What's wrong?" she asked, rushing to get a glass of water after helping me sit on the couch. I suddenly wished I had accepted the invitation to stay there, suddenly feeling all thoughts of a social disorder slip away. Maybe…I wasn't really that problematic. Maybe I was just…shy?

"I don't know," I said, words spilling out of my mouth. "I was coming up here to visit you guys and suddenly everything was grayish, and then colors again, then went back to grey." Iara stared at me for a moment before her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern.

"Are you taking any meds?" she asked.

"It might've been the Aleeve I took last night," I admitted. "But I don't think it could be. I didn't exceed the number it tells you on the container."

The Brazilian girl shook her head, silky black hair shaking with it. "That doesn't matter. You shouldn't be taking that many anyway." She sighed. "Let me guess. It was Kensie?" I nodded, sipping on the glass of water she handed me.

"I think it might have something to do with my dreams. I've been having these weird thoughts lately…and it makes me think, are these real, or not?" I looked down at my cup. "I can't tell the difference when I'm dreaming and when I'm not sometimes. I suddenly blushed, realizing how it must have sounded. They must think I'm crazier than I was when I first met them, I thought, horrible thoughts of imagined reactions coursing through my mind.

"Have you asked anyone else about this?" Erika asked.

"No," I replied. "I didn't think anyone else could help." I wanted to tell them everything but at the same time wanted everything to disappear so I could go back to the dream and live wherever it was. There's proof you really are avoidant. I hit my mental self, angry that my internal voice seemed to have a mind of its own—literally.

A slight rumbling came from outside, soon intensifying to large shockwaves that shook the house.

"An…earthquake?" Iara muttered. "We're not on a fault line…and nowhere near one." She walked over to the window and pulled a green silk curtain aside, looking to see if there was anything that could give her a hint on what had happened.

A large (and I mean huge) creature flew right past the window, startling Iara. She fell back onto the armchair, shaking slightly. "What…what was that?" she whispered, suddenly beginning to murmur words in her native language. Erika went to the door, looking down the street in the direction it had gone in.

I clutched my head, gasping quietly when it began to throb painfully. I was suddenly back in the city—back in the beginning of the dream, knowing exactly how it would play out. The stores were closed again, the light rain falling on my head, unprotected, dripping off in silver rivers. The skyscraper—he was there again, the shadow creatures once more appearing to fight me.

"Who are you?" I asked, fed up with him. Never—in all my dreams that had contained him—had he answered my question.

"You know who I am. We've met before."

Well, duh. This is the third time this week I've had this dream!

And I was suddenly back in reality—shaken again by the waves pulsing through the ground, Iara and Erika nowhere to be seen. I raised my hand to my head—it was my birthmark that was complaining so much about this disturbance, the pair of tan blobs that vaguely resembled wings (so said my friends) reacting rather strangely. They were what usually woke me from the dreams, throbbing intensely, as if they were trying to protect me, trying to prevent my fall into insanity.

Outside, I, looked down the street, wondering where the other girls had gone. Shrugging, I began walking, hoping I would run into them. Maybe they had gone to see what was going on.

At the park, I came to a complete stop, blinking several times to make sure I hadn't somehow drifted back into my dreams again.

In front of me there was a dragon—no, I'm not lying. It was real.

Only thing was, it was tiny.

I giggled. "Who knew dragons could be so small?" I said to myself, laughing, though it evidently heard me, wing-like ears perking up as its head whipped around, glaring at me.

"I may look small, missy, but I can get really angry, you know! And this isn't my real form. I'm about…thirty times as big when I want to be," it said, pointing a tiny clawed hand in my face. I couldn't help but laugh again.

"I'm…I'm sorry," I said, trying to control my voice. I suddenly felt a shiver go down my spine. I clutched my sides, trying to shake it off.

"Are you okay?" There were four young children, all of whom were dressed in strange robes—Chinese, I guessed. Three boys and a girl, an odd combination of ethnicities: one boy was Brazilian (he looked like Iara), another who looked like he'd been born and raised in the South on a farm, the third of possible Asian origin (though was very unclear to me then), and the only girl was clearly Japanese.

I nodded. "I'm fine. Did you just feel the earthquake?" I inquired, wondering if they had anything to do with it.

They all exchanged looks. "I don't think so," the Brazilian boy said.

"We kinda just got here." The Japanese girl spoke, pointing to the dragon. "We flew."

I raised an eyebrow (a quirky habit by my friends), expressing my disbelief. "Sure." I hadn't meant it to come out so snarky and rude, but it did.

"We are looking for something very important," the young boy said, his bald head not at all conspicuous in the middle of the campus. Sarcasm again? the voice asked. I disregarded the question.

"Like what?"

The girl opened a rather large scroll (what were they carrying that thing around for?) to a section that contained a set of characters that looked Chinese, an illustration in the middle (animated, too; they had really cool technology we could've used in college) of a man. In his hands he held what looked like a tiara—or circlet—with a set of wings protruding from it. He placed it on his head, a flash of light filling the screen as he was suddenly attacked by strange creatures, all scratching him but the wounds healing quickly.

"The Radial Diadem," the Southern boy said. The thing has a name. I raised my eyebrow again.

"I'm sorry. Can't help you," I said. You're so rude to strangers.

I began to walk away when I felt a breeze stir, the source in the sky. Behind me was a boy with red hair not unlike Erika's shade and eyeliner that rivaled even Kensie's wannabe antics.

"Jack Spicer!" the young boy said, his eyes narrowing. "You will not obtain the Diadem!"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not here to argue. I'm here to just take the Wu and leave." He landed on the stone path in front of me, giving me an odd look. "What're you looking at."

My eyes were the ones narrowing now. "What do you mean, 'What're you looking at?' I'm surrounded by freaks," I snapped.

"Ooh, that stung," the redhead said mockingly. Apparently it didn't faze him. I rolled my eyes, turning to leave once again and see if Iara and Erika had come back yet. I suddenly shivered again, frozen to the spot, feeling the same aura as I had in my dreams, the dark air that surrounded the man that followed me everywhere. I felt a connection, a link, touch, then break again as I unwillingly spun in place slowly to face who it was that had been haunting my dreams.

Cliffhanger. 8D I'll work on the next chapter around homework; don't worry.