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Black. That's all I see.

"Mom?" I call. "Where'd you go?" She was right next to me a minute ago. We were in the kitchen, making lunch and singing to the radio. "Mom?"

I start walking; with no idea where to go or what to do, it's my best bet. The farther I get, though, the colder it becomes. "Everything's fine," I assure myself. "Everything's fine."

Just after having said that, the black pit shakes. Everything looks liquid-y, dark and wobbling as it thrums to the beating.

I close my eyes and press my hands against them. "Nothing's happening." When my arms fall back to my sides and my eyes squint open, the movement has stopped.

"Are you scared?"

I look around. "What? Where are you?"

It says, "Over here," but it just sounds like empty air. The voice then laughs when I spin around a few more times.

"Where are you?"

"You don't like games?"

"Not when you're playing with my mind."

"We only wish to play," it whines, echoing beyond me. "Don't you want to play with us?"

"I want to go back. Could you do that?" I say. "Could you take me back to my mom?"

No one's here, and yet I feel surrounded. Surrounded by the voice and the dark, suffocated by the vulnerability they bring.

"Don't you know, Maria," it cackles, "that that disgrace of a mother you have is dead."

Hands race out of the floor, latching onto my ankles. My mind tells me to run, but I remain still. And as they crawl up my body, I don't even scream.

What am I supposed to do?

Wait, what's that? A flicker of light sparkles far away. No, not a flicker. A tidal wave…

I sit upright.

"Of course it was a dream." I cover my eyes again and flop back onto my pillow.

Looking out the window, I see fog encased trees and streets. The clock on the wall reads a quarter to nine. I know exactly what'll take this dream off my mind.

I pull off the sheets and lumber out of bed, putting my feet into my shoes. Just in case, I grab an extra blanket from the hallway closet and wrap it around me. Martha's door is wide open and unoccupied when I pass it on my way to the kitchen; she's probably out grocery shopping.

I went out for a walk. Will be back soon—Maria

I leave the note on the dining room table.

As I step into the front yard, a strong gust blows past me. It fills my nostrils with the scent of pine and wood—the odor of a forest. The smell leads, authorizing me this way and that, as I follow.

I don't pay much attention to my course and, when I realize it's been a while, trees and leaves surround me. I circle around a bit. "This doesn't look like New Domino."

In fact, it resembles Izushi more than anything; there's so much plantation that you would think it goes on forever. I can't even tell which direction I came from.

"Wait a second," I gasp, stomping my foot on the ground. "I know what this is! This is one of those dreams where you wake up from a dream and you're in another dream."

Meow.

I turn around.

"Oh, you're cute." I look back and forth before I bend down to the cat and run my hands down its black fur. "You've got no collar; are you a stray?"

I've never had a pet before. Well, not one that does something other than swimming in a bowl. Mom was allergic to all these different kinds of furs, so I could never get anything other than a fish. And I had about eleven of those.

Hesitantly, I pick him?—nope he's a she—I pick her up and wrap her in the blanket I brought along. Her tiny head pops out, revealing her bright yellow eyes.

Crunch.

"Oh, okay," I say mockingly. "You're not going to scare me, forest. You hear me!" Birds in the tops of trees scatter into the sky. "I'm not scared! I'm not—"

Maybe two yards ahead of us stands a figure. Tall and thin, still as stone. But it takes a step forward as I take a step back. This is when I run. Because I am afraid.

What a shocker.

My hair swishes behind me as I tread on. Heart racing at an unusual speed, I slow down. I try not to stop completely, but I can feel an asthma attack swirling in my lungs, ready to shoot up at any moment.

The trees and bushes lessen. The fog lets up.

Yet I keep running. And I hit something.

I tumble down, taking whatever it is with me, and close my eyes. Hands gripping onto fabric, we take a severe crash onto the dewy morning grass.

I'm so tired that it takes me a few minutes to process what I landed on—or better yet, who. The first thing I see are his blue eyes, glistening in contrast to his tanned skin.

"Are you alright?" he asks. I nod. "Do you think you could—"

"I'm sorry!" I climb off of him. We both stand after a while. "I didn't know it was you."

"It's fine," he says. "You're sure you're okay, though?" There's not much emotion in his voice, so it's difficult to tell if he's truly worried.

"Yes, I'm definitely alright." The more I look at him, the more handsome he gets. When he looks back at me, I can just see the disbelief swirling around in his mind. So I—very believingly—say, "I was just on a walk."

He nods, and I don't think he knows what to say. Which is a good thing.

I think?

"We should probably get inside," he states after some time, looking toward the sky. "Looks like rain."

We walk onto the porch and I try to open the door, but it's locked. As I turn back to him, he's already searching under a potted plant. When he stands back up, he holds a key.

"How did you know?"

He gives the tiniest smirk and, oh, is it wonderful; I can feel heat rising in my cheeks. "When you live here for most of your life you learn a thing or two."

He opens the door for me and closes it behind him. "You've…you've lived here before? With Martha?"

"Crow didn't mention that?" I shake my head no. "Crow, Jack, and I used to all live here in the orphanage."

That makes me sad in some way. Maybe because I know how being orphaned feels now, I'm not sure. I would say something like, "I'm sorry," but apologies meant giving him pity. I kicked that word out of my vocabulary months ago.

I don't think he really notices my fretting, though, because he's already into the kitchen. Feeling something brush past my leg causes me to look down.

"How did you get in here?" I ponder. The sly feline simply roams over to the couch in the living room and I don't know whether or not I should leave her, but I eventually do.

Passing the mirror in the hallway makes me give a double take. My dark brown hair sits across my shoulders instead of in the bun I fastened it in earlier. I make a small list of things I need to check before I go into the kitchen. Hair—messy. Eyes—watery. Face in general—puffy.

The overwhelming sense of stupidity catches me off guard. Here I am trying to flatten my curly mess of hair and rubbing fingers against my eyelids.

I'm not doing this for me. A messy bun and a loose tank top are my go-to accessories on a normal day and here I am dolling myself up for a guy I don't even know the name of.

Girls must do this for him all the time. Seeing me would mean nothing to him.

Before I even step into the kitchen, a wave of kids crashes into me. "Yusei's here, Yusei's here!" He places his toolbox on the table and squats down to their eye level. I stand by the doorway, watching them climb on him and show him their toys.

I leave to my room after a while, though. The effects of running through that forest are catching up with me. The cat moves with delicate steps across my bed when I open my door. She sits at a corner.

"How did you get up here?" Stare. "You're a mysterious little thing, you know?"

I lay next to her and stare back. "You're lucky you're cute. I don't know if Martha will let me keep you, but you can stay up here until I ask her, okay?" She nuzzles against my arm, tickling me slightly. "Now what should I call you?"

She meows. "I can't just name you Meow." I cross my legs and push my back against the wall. "I got it," I shriek gleefully, "You'll be named after Mom—Annie."

For a cat, the name seems to fit perfectly. Sort of.

We bask in silence. My mind is at rest for once, thankfully, and I stare at her as she roams around my room searching for whatever, jumping on whatever. Then I don't really pay her much attention at all, seeing as I'm too tired to. Instead I flop onto my pillow, turning my head away from her and towards the window.

But something registers in my mind right before I fall asleep.

I sit up abruptly, open my window and look down.

"Where is it?" I say. "It should be right here."

Nothing but stumps and shrubs lay where I walked some minutes ago. No fog, no trees.

The forest is gone.

So yeah. If you have questions or comments you're always welcome to drop a review. Reading them makes me so happy ^.^

TTFN