A/N: I know nobody cares, and everyone probably wishes I would shut up so they can get on with the story, but I just want to say that the other day I was adding someone's story to my favorites list, and I ended up looking at theirs, and I WAS ON IT!!!!!! Sorry. After Halloween. Sugar overload. I just feel very loved. : )


Well, it seems that I have to do some explaining. I don't know I can help without ruining some things, but I'll try not to(this story is AU, btw). Ch 1:

In the beginning, we get to know Sakura a little, and we see that her life isn't that great. Presumably, it has something to do with the people she's living with because of what she says at the very beginning about not wanting to be there when they're awake and the work she says they make her do. About half-way through, she has a flashback over her life, one year at a time. Basically, her mother is killed(Sakura is three), she runs away, ends up at the Hiiragizawa's, they send her to an orphanage where she gets abused, and then she gets adopted into an abusive home. The very end is not a flashback, but the present, she is sixteen, but I explained that I was keeping it a third POV for conformity's sake.

Ch 2:

At first, she's at the hospital, where no one will treat her(the reason for that will be revealed later). When she gets home, we see evidence of abuse and she gets saved by "a mysterious force". She ends up at Tomoyo's mountain house. For some reason, she has powers that she didn't before, and she acquires a new way of getting about. This doesn't turn out so well when she ends up in the past a couple of times.

Ch3:

I can't really explain where else she ended up, or else I'll ruin the story, but to answer Kura-chan's question: Sakura's real life is the one I started ch1 with and ended ch3 with. I really hope I cleared things up for some people. If not, I apologize, and I'll try to get my e-mail working so I won't have to answer questions in the chapter. I love everyone that's taking the time to read this, and please, just stick with me!!!!! I swear I'll try and write a chapter to explain everything, but that won't be until the end; right now Sakura's confused about what's going on, and since it's all from her POV, everyone gets to be confused, too!! On with the story!!!!


Disclaimer: Let's all pretend for a minute that I really do own CCS . . . or not. It takes too much brain power. We'll just say I don't own it and leave it at that.


Wrong Number- Ch 4

"So dark and deep

All the shadows on the wall

They seem as weak

As all the creatures

Great or small

My hope is gone

All my dreams have come to call

From dusk to dawn

I look for shelter from it all . . ."


When I woke up next, I was more relieved than I can say to find myself in the same bed I fell asleep in. My head was pounding and I was more tired than I have ever been. I've never been drunk, but heaven knows I've been around enough of them to know what a hangover is like, and that's what it felt like for me. Briefly, I wondered whether I had gotten drunk, but simply didn't remember, but I brushed the thought aside for another, more urgent one.


I had to use the toilet. ASAP (as soon as possible).


I wasn't sure if anyone as around to help me, but I didn't really want any help, anyway. A

girl's got to have a certain amount of pride, after all. So I heaved my self, cast and all, out of bed, and grabbing the folding chair, I used it as a sort of support to get past the door and down the hallways. But before I made it there, I passed a room filled with murmuring voices. Curious, I stopped.


"Well, what do you think we should do with her now?"


"We obviously can't keep her here, they might find us."


"But we can't just ditch her somewhere!" That voice I recognized as Tomoyo's. I frowned in

concentration. Who were the other people?



"We have to do something with her! We can't just leave her the way she is! You know what we all just went through! She obviously can't control what she does!" That seemed to be the first voice, and I got the feeling they were talking about me. But why? Where they . . . kidnapers? But Tomoyo . . . I trusted her to some degree . . . I didn't think she would ever do something like that.


But then again, everyone changes.


I suddenly realized how it would look if they came busting out, only to find me leaning against the door, trying to hear them plotting against me. I really wasn't keen on scaring myself and somehow getting thrown into that other dimension, so I lumbered away, praying they wouldn't come out until I had made it to the bathroom. When I got there, I realized I was still in my now-bloody P.E. uniform. Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I made a mental note to ask Tomoyo for some clothes. She always loved making me costumes . . . even if I rarely wore them.


I really was a bad friend to Tomoyo. I wonder why she stayed with me all these years? I certainly never went out of my way to find friends, and I had made it clear that I could survive without her and she could leave whenever she liked. I pondered this as I washed my hands, barely paying attention to anything else. Like when I pulled my hand out from under the stream of water, as small globe followed, floating above my palm. This time I didn't cry out, or throw it away. I stared, transfixed, at the beautiful object before me. I was hypnotized by the way it spun, so slowly, so elegantly.


And I began Seeing things. Unlike last time, I stayed outside the globe, and watched everything leaning against the cold counter.


. . . my family . . .


. . . people . . . did I know them? I felt like I did.


. . . happiness . . . why were they happy?


. . . Tomoyo? What was she doing with my family? Sitting on my mother's swelling belly?


. . . her mother . . . my mother . . . cousins?


I don't know how I knew . . . I just did, like I had suddenly been downloaded with the information.


Everything was just getting weirder and more twisted. I couldn't for the life of me figure anything out, and it was driving me crazy.


The images in the globe were starting to fade, and scared of what might show up in it's place, I curled my fingers into a fist and the globe disappeared. That globe-thingy was really starting to grow on me.


Grabbing my chair and sliding out the bathroom, to my horror, I noticed Tomoyo coming out of that room, apparently going to check up and me. In my panic, I raced down the opposite way and threw myself into a room completely blanketed in pictures and portraits. Realizing that hadn't been the best of moves, I groaned and pushed myself up on my butt, taking a look around as I did. What I saw there astonished me. Every square inch of the gigantic walls were plastered with pictures of Tomoyo's family . . . my family.


I've lived most of my life accepting that I never have had a family, and I never will. I accepted that I had run away, it had been my decision, and I was going to have to live with that. Besides, I had never found anything about other people related to me on those rare moments I had on the computer. It was on that computer that I had found out about Touya's disease, about my father's brutal kidnaping and murder. There was no doubt in my mind that my father had been killed by the same people that took my mother from me. The day I found out, I swore revenge on those that had dared to take my life from me. They would pay for all the suffering they had caused.


It didn't bother me that I had never Seen them, in all my searching for them, in both fire and water. Every night, I sent my thought out to them. My thoughts of hatred, my thoughts of despair. I wanted them to fear me, before they ever set eyes on me. And looking at the pictures on the wall only intensified my feelings. Looking at the happy, young faces of my family, I couldn't stop the swell of bitterness that rose up in my chest, threatening to suffocate me. I don't know whether they feel my thoughts or not, all I know is that there are times when I can feel someone's presence, and I figure that if I can feel them, they can feel me.


I almost feel myself turn to stone again. I pushed every tender thought I had ever thought out of me head, thinking only of the pain I couldn't rid myself of, no matter what I didn


Oh, don't worry, I've never tried to cut myself or anything like that. I have witnessed too many deaths to take my life for granted. But I really have tried all that breathing crap psychiatrists are always telling you to do. Once I ever tried to talk about it, I really did. But how can I explain to someone what I cannot understand myself? I don't know why I have such hate in me. I've always assumed it to be because I witnessed my mother's murder, or perhaps because I spent eight years of my life in some sort of hell they tried to call an orphanage, or even because of the alcohol that ruined my adoptive parents and me. Or maybe it's all of that together. I wouldn't know. All I know is that anyone I've ever tried to get close to has pushed me away, more vulnerable than ever, or just plain hurt me to the extent that I have scars that I don't think will ever heal. Except for Tomoyo.


I spent the rest of the day locked in the picture room, torturing myself with thoughts of what my life could be like, if not for, well, a lot of things. But the one thing I did not do was cry. I couldn't cry. Not anymore.


*~*~*~*~


I don't know how long I was in there. I don't know who was banging on the door, trying to break their way in. I didn't really care. I wasn't doing anything to stop them; it wasn't like their presence was going to make a difference. There are just times when a girl's gotta wallow at rock bottom for a while before she can pick herself up. No matter that most girls would cry their hearts out and welcome comfort.


I'm not like most girls, why bother trying?


While I was locked in there, I had a lot of time to think. Well, sort of. It was like half my mind was frozen, numb, but another part, a smaller part, was sitting there, thinking, working things out. Sometimes all it takes is a moment of silence to get your brain working.


I developed a theory, a radical one, I'll admit, but at least I had a guess about how I had gotten around before. Maybe . . . I had some ability that allowed me to move thorough . . . what? Time? Space? Another dimension? I truly had no idea. But in the beginning, I' had some sort of control over where I ended up, whether I knew it or not. I wished to get away from the images, and I found myself opposite the door. I wanted to find Tomoyo, and I was propelled in front of her. From there things had started to get crazy, and when I had seen that look of worry, away I had shot to the first time that particular look had graced her face. The one part I couldn't figure out was how I had ended up in the day my mother had been murdered. Unless . . .


I had wished for home, so had I been sent to the last time I had been in the only home I've ever had? Most likely. I guess after that I had completely lost whatever control I had and everything had spun out of control . . . until I had been saved. But by whom, and why did he, or she, keep showing up?


I shook my head, trying to dispel thoughts of my mysterious savior. Instead, I chose to ponder upon the night that this had all began.


I wonder what made me snap? I'd been able to take all their crap before, why not then? And how did the people know where to come and save me? Who were they, anyway? And how did I end up with Tomoyo? Did she know whoever was saving me? And, speaking of which, who was he? For I was pretty sure the eyes belonged to a he. Or maybe it was wishful thinking on my part. One part of me, the part that wanted to believe I was sane, knew those eyes to be real. But another part, the part of me that needed to be alone, wished them to be something no one else knew about. It was terrible, and I knew it, but I couldn't help it. I needed some secret, something good, something positive to keep from everyone, unlike everything else I've concealed.


By the time I was willing to come out of the daze I seemed to have been in, dusk had fallen, and I was ready to leave the room of pictures. I was attempting to get up with my cast when it suddenly occurred to me that it was as good a time as any to test my theory. If I was right, then I would be able to get out of that stifling house into the nature I loved, but if I was wrong . . . would I go spinning through that never-ending blackness again? I didn't want to know. But the only way I wouldn't live out the rest of my days in fear was if I faced my travel straight in the face.


Taking a deep breath, I pictured in my mind as clearly as I could the view I had from the window in 'my' bedroom, and braced myself for any sudden movements. Nothing happened. Not that I expected anything. I tried a different approach; closing my eyes, I let myself relax as much as I dared, allowing myself to get in touch with everything around me, and slowly but surely, I altered the sound that came to my ears to those of chirping birds and the rustling of falling leaves. I changed the feel of the carpet under me to the slightly itchy texture of grass. I felt myself calm a little, but nothing happened.


Now I was more than mildly irritated, and I puffed my cheeks and blew hard in an attempt to relieve some stress. I didn't work, and I was about to just get up and slam through that door, cast and all, when I was suddenly thrown into the air. I slammed into the opposite wall with a sickening crunch that seemed to assure me that I was going to be crippled for life. My back felt like it was on fire as I slid down the wall. As used as I am to being arbitrarily thrown about, I made no move to call for help, but instead stood as best I could and glared in the direction I felt the concentration of power.


Wait a minute. Since when did I know how to sense power?


I shook my head; there was no time for thought– concentrating on the task at hand was all I had to do. For some reason, I had a very bad feeling about whatever was going on. The little hairs on my left arm rose, and I knew that was where the next attack was coming from. I had time to glimpse a flash of red before I hit the ground I had dived into. I could feel many other friction burn erupting, but it didn't really register.


A bone-chilling, maniacal laugh filled the air and I froze.


It was him. The man that killed my mother.


A calm, deadly fury coursed through me, giving me the strength to stand, the power to fight back. I don't know what came over me; my powers have never been about attack. I may have been able to use knowledge of the future as a way to protect myself, but even if I wanted to, the only way I have ever been able to inflict harm was to physically get up and beat them to a pulp myself.


So there I was, standing, despite the heavy black cast plastered to my leg (up to my thigh), and it was like I suddenly had an out-of-body experience. I could see myself, standing there, apparently facing nothing, ready to fight with nothing but the fire in my eyes. I could have laughed at how ridiculous it all looked, but I didn't.


Almost of its own accord, my hand came out, delicately arched, as though I were a princess of old, ready to blow the silver dust from my hand. Instead of silver dust, however, a tongue of fire suddenly burst to life, inches from my palm. It didn't burn, though. I didn't see the future in it. I just sent it spinning to the corner– the corner that held the portrait of my mother and Tomoyo's.

The flame didn't touch it, though; it just . . . dissolved. Like it had been doused with large quantities of water.


For an instant, the power that had possessed me left and I was the me I had known for the past sixteen years. That second was all it took, and this time I crashed through the door before slamming into the wall. Whoever I was fighting seemed to particularly enjoy that method of inflicting bodily harm. Well, I could say one thing for them; it worked.


"Sakura!" Tomoyo came running up the stairs, her eyes wide with fear. "Are you okay?! What happened?!"


Suddenly wild with fear for my friend, I screamed,


"Run!" I had no idea why I said this, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they were true. Some disaster was looming above us, just waiting for me to slip up, and that moment was as perfect as it could get. Tomoyo was someone who cared for me, and would do all that she could to help, even if it meant risking her own safety. And I was helpless to aid her. My attacker knew that.


I shivered suddenly, but not from my thoughts; a breezed had swept by, slicing through the air. I knew in an instant what it was, and I could feel that tug in my chest I'd felt the last time I'd been 'transported'. This time, though, I stayed where I was, and I could see the man that was going for Tomoyo. It was a man. He was handsome, terrifyingly so. His flawless face was twisted into a sneer, his eyes glittering with malice. This was a man who enjoyed killing, who lived to see others suffer. This was the man that killed my mother.


"Leave her alone," I commanded in a voice that was not my own. I stood with an assurance I did not feel, masked the surprise I felt that my cast no longer hindered me. The man stopped dead and slowly rotated to face. A wide grin spread across his face, sending shivers down my spine that I strived to conceal.


"Such bravery," he advanced, "I have not seen the likes of for a very long time." He started circling me like a hawk. I stood, back straight, eyebrow arched, watching his every move. "Not since your mother I believe." Seeing my eyes narrow in fury, he laughed, an unreal, too-perfect-too-fake laugh. I shivered.


"Don't you dare speak of my mother," I said through clenched teeth, a slight quiver in my voice betraying all that I really felt. His wide, maniacal grin spread.

"Oh, and who's going to stop me?" He was mocking me, and I knew it. I think that's when I pretty much lost it. Rage I had never felt before spilled through me, lacing my blood with power. I scared me how powerful I felt, how much I craved the power, and there was nothing I could do. My body was on fire, but I barely felt a thing.

Spreading my arms wide, I drew my power with me, made it into something tangible. Pink tongues of fire engulfed me, swelling until they burst from my hold, every ounce of it sent to one purpose; destroying the man in front of me, who looked too shocked for a moment to do anything but stand with his mouth open and stare. Just before he was hit by the tidal wave of my power, though, he snapped out of it, winked at me, and vanished, only to reveal Tomoyo standing there, completely unaware of what had just occurred. I realized I was floating mid-air at the same time I saw that what I had sent at the man was still going, and Tomoyo was directly in its path.


"STOP!!!!!!" Falling to my knees, once again in the 'normal' dimension, I collapsed, praying nothing would happen to Tomoyo because of my carelessness. I didn't black out, though I wished I had for a second, but I did see those amber eyes again, and I finally knew all was well.




*~*~*~*~*~


I lay in bed that night, just staring at the canopy above me. I still didn't know who it was that always seemed to save me, but I knew he was real. I heard him and Tomoyo talking in hushed tones as he carried me, bridal style, to my room. It was almost like they thought I was dying or something, and it scared me. I tried to struggle, yell out, anything to let them know I was alive and well, but, to my horror, I couldn't. I was helpless as a baby, too tired and weak to do anything, but not sleepy enough to actually fall asleep.

"Who are you?" I whispered to the slight breeze that rippled the silky fabric above me. Shockingly, it seemed to hear me, and it lingered for a second, like it was deciding whether or not to answer my question. In the end, it simply disappeared, once again leaving me to my own thoughts.


An hour later, finally resigned to another sleepless night, I decided to try the moving-around-thing. I didn't know where I wanted to go, though, and I wasn't about to risk setting off into something I wasn't very sure about with nothing in my mind. So I concentrated on getting to the bathroom. I figured I might as well start out small, with someplace I'd been. That is, if my theory was correct.


Visualizing with all my might the cold, hard tile . . . the stark white curtains . . . the stainless steel bars . . .


Nothing.


Growling in my frustration, it took all I had to keep myself from screaming out loud. Not only would that put a tremendous strain on my vocal cords, but there was the chance that I might arouse people who would rather stay asleep. Instead, I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and let it out slowly. Finding this strangely more calming than usual, I did it again, this time imagining myself floating on a cloud . . .


Mists were surrounding me, lapping gently at my ankles. Where was I? Everything was a swirl of gray and blue, like I was lost in a cloud. But how could that be? There is no way to stand in clouds, and besides; I wasn't cold. Aren't clouds supposed to be chilly? I brought my hand up to me upper arms. Did I have goose bumps?


I heaved a sigh, for no apparent reason, but it seemed to relieve a little of the tension eating away at me. Acting purely on instinct, I concentrated solely on bring the mists to me, cloaking me like a blanket. With another breath I let out, I sent the clouds spinning away. Mesmerized by their beauty, I did it again, and again. And every time I did it, I felt calmer, stronger, and more ready to sleep.


But I didn't want to go back down to earth. It was much better . . . wherever I was. I didn't want to tink about my life, I just wanted to get away from it all. Bringing my mists to me again, I used to propel me higher than I've ever been. I was free, and I danced around, letting my mists leave me alone. I wasn't afraid, though; I wanted to feel the thrill of falling infinitely. But even I knew there had to be and end somewhere, and when I felt it approaching, I allowed the mists to bring me up again, and so it went, for quite some time, and I got pretty good at commanding my mists.


After a while, when I thought I might just lay down on a cushion of clouds, I felt someone, ever so slightly, trying to poke their way into my sanctuary. Too tired to think much of it, and too lazy to do much about it, with a flick of my wrists, I sent a wall of fog to the intruder, blocking any further attempt to disturb me.


But he didn't stop.


Slightly roused, I sat up, eyes narrowed, trying to perceive to dared bother me. Annoyed that I couldn't quite put my finger on it, I threw aside my wall and instead told it to take hold of the trespasser and bring him to me. Imagine my shock when it was no other than . . .


But how? How did he find me? I didn't want him to be here, not when I was finally alone. I wasn't ready to deal with him yet, but there he was, sitting calmly on my mists like he owned them, as though he hadn't a fear in the world. How dare he? I didn't care who he was, or what he's ever done to me; I was only mad that he dared intrude on me. I still couldn't figure out exactly who he was, or where I had seen him before.


Maybe a relative? A friend? Or an enemy? I didn't know. I didn't care.


"Who are you?" My voice was an odd mixture of curiosity and command. The only response was a short bark of laughter. Hadn't I heard that before? For some reason, I felt that I had.


"Don't you know?" I saw his face twist into a sneer. "I'm the last person you'll ever see."


A/N: A little shorter than usual, perhaps, but that's the price to pay if we want this out while we're all still alive 'n kicking! ~_^ The song at the top was "Confused" by Sylver. I would just like to take this moment to say that I don't own any of the songs I use, and I probably have never heard them. I only use them for their lyrics. So please, if it's a really horrible song, don't get all disgusted or something, just read the lyrics and try to figure out why I paired it with its chapter. If you figure it out, I congratulate you; half the time I'm not even sure. REVIEW!!!!!!!