Hi, guys. I changed my OC from Haley to Wren because after sitting with it for a bit, I realized I hate the name Haley for this character. Sorry about that. I'll be going back and editing the last Chapter. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 3

Wren tossed around in bed, stuck in a nightmare.

The setting this time was a park-an elaborate one. At least a dozen different slides, all huge and curvaceous or startlingly straight and steep. Painted bubblegum hues with neon lights chasing the sides.

Trampolines and swings and massive jungle gyms. If you couldn't have fun in this place, you were dead inside.

That is exactly what Wren was trying to do, nestled in a tire swing like contraption in the shape of a tea cup. There were people everywhere, adults and children. Laughing and screaming and snapping pictures of each other. She didn't know the person pushing her but she couldn't be bothered worrying about these things-she was simply too happy. The wind washed her spirit clean, kissed her face, and tousled her hair.

This went on for a longer period of time than usual-she never got much reprieve in her nightmares. But when the voices started fading along with the sun, when the people slowly started to blur and bleed away into nothingness, she knew playtime was over.

Everything was a shadow now, the equipment had dulled and looked rusty and aged. The grass was dead, the trees were bare, and the air stale.

She was waiting for her swing to stop so she could gain her footing and maybe get a head start. "Yeah, I know", she thought. "You're coming." She inhaled deeply, trying to psych herself up. "I know this isn't real."

Feet on the ground, now. She gets moving and looks around for something she can use as a weapon, but this location isn't the best for the task. She reaches down for the knife she keeps in her boot, but it isn't there.

A figure appears in front of her and she digs her heels into the ground, turning quickly, to go back in the direction she came from. It is a man, lanky and tall. He chases her, cackling, and she knows he could have her already if he wanted, but he stays just a clip away to keep her running.

This goes on for a while, until she is spent, and she collapses in the dirt, sobbing. She doesn't beg anymore, so she just waits for it. He looms above her, face and body scarred. He wields a knife, looking at it appreciatively before looking down at her. "Gotcha!", he squeals, and plunges it into her skin.

One slow, deep cut into her lower abdomen. When the blood starts flowing, he disappears. She weeps loudly, covering the wound with her hand, feeling the warm liquid flood her fingers. Now all their is to do is wait to wake up.

But it's different this time, and she sees a new figure upon her. She panics, clutching her stomach and starts to move away.

"Hey", the man said. "Shh. It's okay."

She looks into his face and sees calm, dark eyes looking back at her. He reaches a hand towards her free one and she grasps it desperately.

Her eyes shoot open and she is tossed back into reality.

Panting, she rests a hand on her forehead. "What...the...hell."

After a few seconds of recovery, her eyes shoot over to the clock on her nightstand. Twelve thirty nine. "Fuck." Almost an hour late for work, again.

The library was a good place for her to work. It was a type of solace for her. She always had a deep love for books, and things were always calm and quiet there. After her first couple tardies she knew she had to tell her boss about her...situation. She'd already been let go at three other jobs, because she didn't have it in her to explain why she was often late.

Nancy was a kind enough woman, and Wren was infinitely more comfortable telling her than any of her past employers.

When she looked at her with disturbed yet questioning eyes, Wren had lifted her shirt and showed her the nasty looking scar. Nancy just nodded solemnly, and from then on it was tolerated when Wren showed up late. She simply couldn't wake up when she was in the middle of a nightmare.

At seven o'clock, Wren punched out and grabbed her jacket from the foyer. She'd been contemplating it all day, going to the precinct, and she thought she had her mind made up that she would just head home. She surprised herself somewhat when she ended up walking through the precinct doors instead of her own.

The place was buzzing, as always. She meandered up to a studious looking woman sitting at a large desk, writing something on a piece of paper.

"Hi", Wren said, making the woman look up. "Is Jim Gordon in?"