Chapter 1: Dreamer's Antics

"Do you remember?" A voice asked.

"Huh? Remember what?" The voice of a boy replied.

"Do you remember?" The voice repeated.

"…I don't know what you're talking about…" The boy answered.

"Do you remember who you are?" The voice inquired.

"Of course I do!" The boy shouted offensively.

"Who are you?" The voice speculated.

"Well, I uh…" The boy began. "I'm--"

"You don't remember who you are Noah?" The voice questioned the confused boy.

"Noah? That's my name…then why don't I recognize it? Why can't I remember?" The boy, Noah, sighed. "How do you know who I am?" He asked.

"I don't."

"Then how'd you know my name? Why did you know my name?" Noah grew frustrated.

"You told me." The voice stated calmly.

"Who ARE you?" Noah was growing increasingly agitated.

"It's time to wake up Noah." The voice whispered.

"What?" Noah asked in confusion. Although, before he could react, he woke up and his eyes blinked open. Noah sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes sleepily. It was still the middle of the night. Moonlight spilled into his room from between the blinds of his window, faintly illuminating it. "What was that?" He asked himself aloud, looking over at his digital clock. "2:00am?" He groaned, lying back down in his bed. He stared up at his ceiling in darkness, pondering the odd dream he had just awoken from. He soon drifted back to sleep.

Noah woke up on a large platform. The colors were dulled out and the entire platform was surrounded by darkness. There was a picture within the floor of the platform. It was of two boys, seemingly floating with their backs to one another. The image of a keyhole separated the two boys and there were feathers all around them. Noah observed the image closer, studying each boy individually. He gasped as he gazed upon the boy floating on the left in the picture. "He looks just like me!" He exclaimed, taking a few steps back to get a better view of the entire picture.

Not realizing just how close he was to the edge of the platform, "Whoa!" Noah shrieked as he nearly stumbled backward off of it; but he managed to catch his balance enough to throw himself forward onto his hands and knees. His heart was pounding in his throat. "That was…close…" He gulped, pushing himself to his feet. He took a cautious step toward the edge, stretching his neck out to peer over the side to see just how far he would've fallen. "No bottom?"

"Or is there?" A voice spoke from behind him.

Noah's eyes widened. "The voice from my dream!" He nearly choked on the words he had blurted out as he turned around to face the culprit.

"Yes." The voice replied.

Noah was taken back as he found no one when he turned around. He searched for a bit to try and scope out the being from his dream. He was unsuccessful though. He was the only one there. He sighed in disappointment and took a few steps away from the edge. "Maybe I'm hearing things."

"Do you really believe that?" The voice questioned from behind him once again.

Noah gasped and whirled around. A hooded figure dressed in a long black cloak stood a few feet from him. "Who are you?" Noah asked. There was no response. "Tell me who you are! What do you want from me!?" He was growing impatient. "What do you want with me!?" He growled, clenching his fists. "Answer me!" Noah demanded. Still, no reply. "Why won't you answer me!? Who are you!?" He lurched forward, charging toward the hooded figure.

The mysterious figure vanished just as Noah was about to make contact and tackle him to the platform in order to gain control of the situation and get some answers. Noah immediately leapt to his feet. "What!? Where'd he go!? He couldn't have just disappeared…could he? What's going on?"

"Behind you!" The voice boomed.

Noah whirled around angrily. "Stop playing games with!—me…" Noah's jaw dropped as he was overcome with a state of shock. In the center of the platform stood the cloaked figure, only his hood was down. He was Noah. "You're me? But how could that be? I'm me." He froze. His heart was pounding. "How…?

In an instant the other, imposter Noah darted forward, grasping Noah's throat in one hand. He lifted Noah off of his feet above the platform. Noah clasped the other Noah's wrist in both hands, trying to pry himself away from the hostile being. "It's useless to resist me!" The imposter Noah snarled, tightening his grip on Noah's neck.

Noah grunted, choking slightly. He took quick, sharp breaths as his airway was being constricted. His grip on the imposter Noah's wrist loosened. He began to grow light-headed. "W-Why…?" He forced out in a whisper.

The other Noah sneered. "You've forgotten!? Then allow me to remind you!" He growled, throwing Noah backwards off of the platform.

Noah tried to scream as he plummeted head-first into the black oblivion; but he couldn't. Nothing would come out of his mouth. No words; not even a sound. He couldn't fathom what was going on.

The next thing Noah knew he was in his bed. His eyes shot open in the darkness, quickly adjusting to the faint light that poured into his room through the blinds of his window. He was breathing heavily; sweat drops dotted his forehead and ran down his face and neck. "It was just…a dream?" He sat up in confusion. "No. It had to be real. It felt real." He sighed, tossing the blanket off of him to the end of the bed. It was dawn, barely seven o'clock.

He got up out of bed and drew the blinds of his window, peering out into the quiet streets. His room overlooked most of Silvervale. It was so still. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and pulled the white t-shirt he had worn to bed over his head. He tossed the sweat-soaked shirt to the floor by the end of his bed. All the while, he pondered the meaning of the dream and events that followed. He ran a hand through his light brown, messy hair then decided to take a shower.

In the shower, Noah stood facing the shower-head, allowing the cool water to douse his head and the back of his neck and run-down his face and body. His mind continually wandered over the events that had taken place. After he had finished showering, he dried himself off and got dressed in his usual outfit. It included a white tank top with a zip-up, collared, short-sleeve shirt over it that was black with dark red stitching. He had baggy pants that were half black and half tan with a grey belt that was attached to the belt loops of the pants. He slipped on his black vans-styled sneakers that had a purposely faded and messed up white checkered pattern on both sides of each shoe; and tied the black laces into double knots to ensure they didn't untie or loosen throughout the day. He always had a black wristband on his right wrist and two rings on his left hand, a solid black band on his index finger, and a solid dark red band on his second finger.

Noah grabbed the towel and blue pajama pants that he'd previously been wearing, and threw them at the end of his bed on top of the t-shirt he took off before his shower. He went back into the bathroom that was attached to his rather large room and cleared a spot on the steamy mirror in order to see his head so he could fix his hair. He ran a comb through his wet, sleek hair first. He then plugged in a blow-dryer and proceeded to dry his hair, running his fingers through it to style it as it dried. His light brown hair was soft and unique, able to spike messily yet adequately, without any product put in it whatsoever. Noah liked his hair, he liked himself. Once satisfied, he put everything away and wiped down the mirror and sink counter so his mom wouldn't yell at him for being a slob.

Afterwards, he silently made his way out of his room and midway down the hallway to the stairs where he made his way down to the kitchen. It was still rather early so his adoptive parents were still in bed and the house was so quiet and covered in shadow, though not eerily. Noah let out a small yawn as he crept across the tiled kitchen floor. He opened the fridge and pulled out a mostly empty carton of ice cold milk and drank it straight from the container. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand after he finished off the carton then threw the empty container away in the trash. Noah then went over to the pantry and opened the door, observing its contents and pondering what he wanted to have for breakfast. An idea struck him suddenly. He didn't want an amateur, boring bowl of cereal or pop-tarts that morning. He wanted a real breakfast.

So, Noah went and got out a pound of bacon, half a dozen eggs, some bread, and an assortment of ingredients in order to make pancakes. He grabbed out a big plastic bowl and large spoon for mixing, a spatula, two frying pans, and a measuring cup. He turned two of the stove burners on to allow them time to preheat while he combined the ingredients for the pancakes in a bowl. He poured in the pancake mixed, then cracked a few eggs into the mix, measured out the amount of milk he'd need, then poured that in as well. He also poured in some cinnamon to add extra flavor. After thoroughly mixing the batter, he poured enough of the batter into one of the pans to fit the center and proceeded to place a few strips of bacon onto the other empty pan. He took extra care when flipping the pancakes; he wanted them to turn out perfect. He was picky about that sort of thing. He set three places at the table, for himself and parents. He knew they'd wake up to the sweet scent of breakfast.

After fixing all the pancakes and bacon, Noah fried up some eggs as well, making a few different kinds of omelets, sunny-side up eggs, and scrambled eggs as well. He threw some bread into the toaster and poured himself a big glass of orange juice. Once everything was done, Noah fixed all of the plates. He gave himself a stack of four pancakes, two pieces of toast, a bunch of bacon strips, and some scrambled eggs as well. He loved to eat, especially breakfast foods…he was like a black hole, able to devour anything put in front of him. That always amused and amazed his mother, as well as his friends and just about everyone else in town. For his mother, Noah put a fruit omelet, two pancakes, and a few pieces of bacon. He set out a mug for his mother. He place two sunny-side ups eggs on his father's plate, along with some bacon, toast, and a few pancakes too. Again, Noah wasn't sure exactly what his adoptive father would want to drink so he just left that up to him to decide.

He then heard his parents stirring upstairs. Like every morning, his father always smashed into the end table beside the door of their bathroom, causing a somewhat loud clatter and series of mutters. Noah chuckled to himself every single time. He always gave his father a hard time about it too. It was so easy to poke fun at him…he was rather goofy. Noah shook his head after hearing his father upstairs then sat down at the end of the table, farthest from the stairs, where he usually sat.

His mother came down first. Luckily, he hadn't forgotten to put on a pot of coffee for her. She looked a bit dreary still. "Hey mom!" Noah greeted her cheerfully. She smiled warmly at him and hugged him in his seat as she made her way to the brewing coffee pot. Noah handed his mother her mug and she poured herself a full cup of scolding hot, black coffee. Noah couldn't understand why his mother liked her coffee black. He thought it tasted disgusting and was much too strong for him. He never bothered her with the dumb question though. She like her coffee the way she liked it, black, end of story.

"Yeah. Your father was just snoring impossibly loud again." She replied with a smile. Noah laughed. "How about you? You're up mighty early this morning. Did you sleep alright?" She raised a brow at him, making an attempt to drink her coffee.

"Eh. I had some trouble, but it's fine." He responded with a shrug.

A series of thuds came from the stairs as Noah's father proceeded down them at full speed. "Wow! Something smells great!" He exclaimed excitedly upon reaching the bottom and approaching the table. His eyes lit up at the sight of breakfast already made and dished out.

"Noah fixed breakfast this morning." Noah's mother said to her husband as she sat down at her usual seat beside Noah.

"Really? What's the occasion, sport?" He questioned his adopted son. "Was there an apocalypse while we were sleeping?" He joked, getting the iced tea out of the fridge. He sat down across from Noah, beside his wife and poured himself a glass.

"Very funny." Noah rolled his eyes then chuckled at his father. "No occasion though. I just woke up early and decided I wanted to make an awesome breakfast." He said with a smile as he took a bite of his bacon. "What about you? Did you lose to the end table again this morning dad?" Noah joked, getting revenge on his father for his bit of humor aimed at Noah only mere seconds before. Noah's father gave him a look then admitted defeat as he just smiled and shook his head, stuffing some toast in his mouth to avoid having to respond. He knew Noah would win that battle; he always did.

Noah got up and got the syrup out of the pantry. "I knew I was forgetting something." He said to himself as he closed the door back behind him and returned to the table. He smothered his stack of pancakes in the maple syrup then set the bottle down in the middle of the table. He cut a chunk of the pancakes with his fork then shoved the stacked pieces in his mouth, chewing quietly yet thoroughly satisfied with the results of his cooking. He washed the pancakes down with some orange juice soon after he had put them in his mouth. He was very hungry, particularly early in the morning.

"You rock. But you already know that." His father laughed, beginning to eat his eggs and dip his toast in them joyfully.

"Noah, you're the best son a mother could have." His mother chimed in, having woken up a bit from her coffee. She nudged him with her hand then started to eat her omelet.

Noah loved his parents very much and he knew they loved him too. He was always happy with them and he never did anything to upset them really. Though, lately it seemed as though they were struggling with one another. They argued a bit, more then they had ever before. It was mostly about money. Noah's father needed a better job…or at least to stand up to his current boss who kept slapping him with cruddy work. He is one of their best workers and has been there longer then almost everyone there. He was pretty much friends with his boss for crying out loud. He was just too nice a guy to say anything. He was always that way. Noah's mother was much more assertive than him.

Noah tried his best to ignore their fighting and act as though it didn't exist. Like it was all just a bad dream he needed to wake up from. But his dreams lately have been repeatedly reminding him that it wasn't all just a dream. Those dreams were just that though, dreams. Up until that last one. He didn't talk about his dreams, or his parents' arguing to anybody. Not even his closest friends, which he regretted sometimes, but on the inside he somehow knew it was all for the best. He was having bigger problems at the moment anyway. Like the dreams he kept having. He didn't know why either.

Noah wolfed down every bit of food on his plate and even helped himself to seconds, shoveling a pile of food onto his plate to devour. After his father had finished eating, he went and got ready for work. His mood drastically changed to dismay as he finished his pleasant breakfast with his family. He murmured lowly so that Noah wouldn't hear him and unhappily made his way back upstairs, shuffling his feet as he did so. His mother was off that day. She cleared the table once everyone was done and then went to watch her morning shows in the living room. Noah went back upstairs to his room and got on his computer to type and look up some things pertaining to his strange dreams. He wanted answers.

"See you guys later!" Noah's father called on his way out the kitchen door for work.

"Bye Hun!" His mother called after him.

Noah leapt up from his computer chair and darted to his window. He opened the window and stuck his head out. "Later dad!" Noah shouted to his father as he grabbed the newspaper off of the driveway by his truck. His father waved to him with the newspaper before getting into his truck and starting the engine. Noah stayed at the window and watched his father pull away with a slight sigh.

"Hey Noah!" A voice called to him from just outside his window. Noah's head snapped up. "Come on, we don't have all day you know!"

"I'll be right down Jack!" Noah called down to his best friend excitedly. They had planned out a full day a few nights beforehand and had a lot to do. It was nearing the end of summer vacation after all.

"Hurry up! Riley and Kaycee are already waiting for us at the fort!" Jack shouted back up.

"I'm coming, calm down! They won't leave without us so quit worrying so much!" Noah yelled back as he ran out of his room and down the stairs. "Bye mom! I'm going with Jack!" He yelled as he practically flew out the kitchen door, nearly bowling over Jack as he did so. The screen door slammed shut behind him. "What are you waiting for? Come on!" Noah called over his shoulder to Jack as he raced past him.

"Hey!" Jack shouted at Noah as he chased after him. "Wait up man!"

"Not a chance!" Noah teased with a laugh, dashing down the street with Jack trailing not far behind him.