Chihiro woke with a start. She sat up in her bed, staring blankly at the door opposite her. For a few seconds she remained this way, and after gaining her composure, she began to wonder about what had woken her up. 'Yubaaba... Green light... Haku...' She sighed. "It was just a dream..." she muttered wistfully to herself as she settled her head back against her pillow. In fact, this wasn't the first time that she had had this dream. It was like a reoccurring nightmare that kept coming back to haunt her. Chihiro turned her head slightly to the side to look at her clock- 6:30am. Even though it was early on a Saturday morning, she decided to get up. There was no point lying in bed all morning contemplating a dream that made no sense whatsoever. Besides, there were plenty of house chores to be done. Grumbling slightly, Chihiro forced herself out of her bed, kicking off her blanket as she went. She wobbled over to her mirror and began to brush her long, brown hair, which had suffered the effects of sleep. After she had smoothed it out with a hairbrush, her face was far more noticeable. Now 15, Chihiro had definitely grown into a beautiful young lady. Although she still possessed the flat nose she had inherited from her parents, her hazel eyes shone and her lips could smile a smile that would brighten up anyone's day. Her body was now full of voluptuous curves. Although she had been fairly skinny at the age of ten, a few years of puberty had definitely done her good. She leaned over her dresser to pick up a sparkly, pink elastic band. For a few moments she held it in her hand, just reflecting on exactly what happened five years ago...

"It is made by thread, woven together by all your friends, it will protect you..."

Did it all really happen? Did she really mistakenly venture into the Spirit World at the tender age of ten? Although it was a terrifying ordeal for her, she longed to travel back in time to assure herself that it was all real and not dreamt. She had to make sure that Yubaaba was real, not to mention all her new friends made- Rin, Kamaji, Boh, No Face, Zeniiba... And then... there was Haku. Did he really exist? Or was he just a figment of Chihiro's imagination like the rest? Chihiro laughed to herself. If she had really just made up all these characters, then she would certainly make herself rich by selling the story as a blockbuster novel. So long she doubted that the Spirit Realm was real- that she had just made up an adventure for herself to escape the grim fact that she was leaving all her friends behind to move to a new house. But this adventure had changed the person she was- could a dream really do that? She went into the Spiritual World, a spoilt, nagging child. Through all the horrible situations that she had been in brought out the bravery and courage inside of her, and changed the girl she was. She came out of that cursed tunnel, confident that she could accomplish anything. Yet, there was Haku... Chihiro cursed him under her breath. 'Damn it, Haku! Why have you abandoned me?' Haku- close to the first experience that Chihiro ever had with the opposite sex. But was it really love? Or just a silly childhood crush that did not deserve to be acknowledged? She wasn't sure- but it had pulled her along for five years and counting.

"But will we see each other again?"

"I'm sure we will."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

'Promise my ass, Haku!' Chihiro muttered under her breath. But in her hand shone the proof that Haku did really exist, as with all her other friends. Surely, she couldn't have concocted a hair elastic out of thin air, could she? Sighing, she tied her hair back into a long, slender ponytail. She hastily put on some clothes and set downstairs to begin washing the dishes.

Not long after she started, the door banged open, and in came Chihiro's father. With him came a stench- Whisky. Chihiro knew it straight away- he had been drinking the whole night long.

"Hi Dad," Chihiro greeted curtly.

"Shut up girl," he snapped, "Get on with your house chores. The bins also need to be taken out." With that, he scrambled upstairs to sleep. Chihiro knew better than to argue with him. If she did not follow his wishes, she would probably be beaten half to death, or worse- sexually abused. She spent years trying to find ways of covering the bruises and scars on her skin, but it was harder to cover the emotional scars. Now at high-school, she barely had any friends. Her classmates regarded her as 'different' and never included her in any social events. Not that Chihiro did mind. She would never find the time to go to these social gatherings anyway- during her free time, she had to work to support her family- her and her father. They were both extremely devastated after Chihiro's mother had passed away from cancer. Chihiro knew that this was what had sparked her father's drinking habits. At times, she would pray to the gods to bring her mother back, so everything could go back to normal. But she knew it wasn't possible, and life just had to go on this way.

"You know, on second thoughts," came Chihiro's father's voice from the stairway, "You could come and keep me company in my room. I mean, we could talk a bit more about your mother. Have some father-daughter time." Chihiro turned around to see her father wearing a rather mischievous grin on his face. 'Damn it!' Chihiro thought furiously.

"Dad, I'm sort of busy right now. Would you mind if I come later?" she asked cautiously.

"Darn it, I want NOW!" her father roared. Chihiro's heart began to pound. She didn't want her father to abuse her this way. She put down the drying cloth and raced for the door. Though her father was clearly overweight, he only had to pounce to get Chihiro to stop.

"Ok then, my girl... If you don't want my bed, we can do it right here," he said as he began fondle her intimately.

"No..." Chihiro gasped. She was suffocating under her father's weight. With one valiant effort, she pushed him off of her body, leaving him lying on the floor, laughing with no cause.

"I'm sorry Dad," she whispered. She opened the door and let herself out. Then she ran and ran and ran. She knew exactly where she was going.