a.n. Yay! I'm making up my failure! Aren't you proud of me? I am. :)

I was in a totally different place. At least I wasn't on the plane anymore. Instead of feeling like I was suffocating in body odor and the smell of old ladies and equally old leather seats, I felt as though I couldn't hide anywhere at all. What's it called...agoraphobia? I think that's what it is. I know that Oliver has something similar, because he always freaks out if he is utterly out in the open.

I felt agoraphobic. I was in a large room, almost larger than my room back home. Two single beds with itchy looking muddy yellow bed sheets sat in the corner, tucked neatly up against the walls, which looked as if it were red brick painted over with a rusty looking orange color. There was a small bathroom consisting only of a toilet (which is not sanitary). The floor was merely tightly packed dirt that blew up into great cloud of brown and made you sneeze if you weren't careful in certain areas. There were no windows. There were no doors.

I felt eyes boring into the back of my neck. A violent wave of chills ran up and down my spine, so sudden and forceful I sank to my knees, because I honestly felt as though not one part of body had any bones in them at all. I breathed heavily for a moment. I looked slowly over my right shoulder, staring at the crimson red eyes planted on the painted brick of the wall. The pupils seemed at though they were swirling. I couldn't, absolutely couldn't look away from them.

"What are you sitting around for?"

I turned my head so fast that my hair smacked my face, and I vaguely remember the smell of dirt and sweat as it ran under my nose. Suddenly, I also felt the rough fabric of my clothing rub against my skin, which was strangely tender.

I had very little time to take all this in and fit the pieces together. The person to whom the voice belonged was sitting in the opposite corner of the barren room.

She was beautiful.

Not like my mother, who had this sophistication about her. Not like Avery, who could make you smile at anything and gives off this...glow. She was beautiful because she was not trying. She had this earthy look to her, like she lived in the woods with the seven dwarves. Her shockingly red hair looked windblown, and her eyes, deep green like the leaves of an oak tree, were looking at me hard.

"Get us out here," she said, standing. She wore a long white Grecian dress with golden ornamentation. She looked uncomfortable, although I could tell it was made of the best materials, while me own garb felt like I was being covered in sand.

"And just how do you suppose I do that?" my mouth says, although my brain tells me to ask who she is.

She smiles a little crookedly, and her red hair and dress start flying frantically around her in all directions as a heavy wind literally rattles the whole scene until it shatters into a million pieces. Give or take, of course. It's not like I counted.

I found myself in a very dark corridor, at the end of which was an eerily aged door. I could tell that it was once black, but the paint was horrible chipped and red handprints ran up and down the surface, like someone was dragging their hands down it in desperation. I shivered.

I felt my muscles tense. I tried, unsuccessfully, to resist as my hand slowly inching it's was towards the doorknob and turned. It opened surprisingly easy, without one squeak of protest, like they always did in movies. I held my breath. Something about what ever was in there was undeniably...wrong.

The door swung shut one second latter, and, as if someone had planted it there, I saw one word in my head: forbidden. Unfortunately, in that one second I saw. I saw a huge room, filled with people of all ages, races, and genders. There were people ranging from at least 4 to 80 years old. Women clung to screaming children. Men held back spirited young boys who were swinging their fists wildly in every direction, attempting to attack something at the front of the room. The elderly simply looked tired, like they were getting ready to kill over from the stress of...something.

I heard a ringing. That's when I realized. They were all chained together, ankle to ankle, man to woman, child to adult, hopeless to hopeless. I could hear a child crying for their mother, for the homes, even after the door had shut itself. I knew I would hear it for a very long time. Because it was Kylie's. And mine. My voice as a young child, like I had heard it on family videos.

I felt a sharp, searing pain across my shoulders. Then against the soft part on the back of my knees. They bent unwillingly. Someone tucked a grimy finger under chin and forced me to look at them, although all I could see was the hand reaching out of the darkness, and those horrible crimson eyes. I could feel their hot breath run across my own dirty face.

"Curious child," they said, amused. It was impossible to hear if it was male or female, because it was distorted, like someone was talking into one of those little toys that makes you sound like Darth Vader. "You wish to dream? Dream sweetly. Savor it while you can. Little Trespasser, your time will end. I will make it my personal goal." They traced the outline of my cheekbone. A sickening scream arose from the other side of the Black Door, the scream of a girl in pain, and cruel laughter echoed around in my head. "Let the games begin, little Trespasser."

Suddenly, they lashed out, their nails growing impossibly long and sharp, raking my cheek. I felt blood, tasted it as it trickled down my face and wet my lips. But mostly, I felt pain. A deep scorching pain like I was being thrown into an outrageously huge fire and burnt. I felt as though I were on the very surface of the sun, starting with my face, and then rushing down through my body, every single nerve screaming.

"Tori?" I heard vaguely. "Tori!" someone shouted. Someone was grabbing my shoulder in a death grip and shaking it, trying to get my awake. I tried to wake up my self, but I couldn't think at all.

"Tori!" they called again, at least I think that was the part that was real. I was in this kind of half awake half asleep state.

"Is she okay?"

"Sure," someone insisted. "This happens sometimes. She get horrible airsick, you see. This is the result," they replied with practiced ease.

Whoever was asking stopped.

"Tori, can you hear me?"

I tried to move, but I felt like I was on fire still.

"Oliver?" someone asked, their voice thick with worry.

"Yeah, I know."

Distantly, I felt someone put their hands on me. Then every tongue of fire vanished. My nerves were relieved for a moment, then, I felt nothing.

My eyes still wouldn't open.

Eerie laughter that I was certain were only by me, in the dark void of unconsciousness, rippled through me. "Let the games begin."

I got bored, so I decided to make this as dramatic as I possibly could. I'm very satisfied. Now review! Click...

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Here!