She is dreaming.

She is sitting in a field of flowers. They talk, and she talks with them. They laugh, and she laughs too. She is alone physically, but there are thousands of souls there to keep her company. Thousands of lives, ideas, wishes, hopes, dreams. Thousands.

They are sleeping.

She knows it is her fault they sleep.

"No," Annabeth mumbles, caught up in the dream. "No."

She is small, and they are large. She is one, and they are many. She is alone, and they are together.

Yet she knows she is the most powerful of them all. Of all these wandering souls.

Only dreaming, Annabeth thinks. Only dreaming.

She wanders through the endless filed of flowers. They are full of weeds. Her mother loved weeds.

She has no siblings. She has no friends. She has only herself.

She keeps running, and she doesn't know where to. She runs without stopping. She runs to the edge of the field with flowers, to the end of the world.

Back, she thinks. Go back. Stay safely hidden, stay in the field of flowers.

But she knows. She knows that staying in the field of flowers means staying ignorant, and staying alone. Staying a child in an adult world. Staying small, weak.

She jumps.

"Don't jump," Annabeth whispers.

She falls through the darkness, through life. She falls gently, like Alice down the rabbit-hole. She slowly stops, and she is suspended in midair. Why is she stopping now, of all times?

A mirror.

A mirror?

There. In front of her. She slowly glides foreword, and she can hear the flowers up above chanting, "She's only dreaming."

The mirror shows a perfect her. A perfect family.

"She's only dreaming," the flowers cry.

A life she could have had. And she can change it, she knows she can. She can have the perfect life.

"She's only dreaming. SHE'S ONLY DREAMING!" they scream.

She hesitantly reaches out.

One hand gently, slowly touches the glass. Light flares.

"SHE'S ONLY DREAMING!" they shout, and the light is blinding, enveloping her, flaring out, making her eyes hurt. Her perfect, sky-blue eyes are being blinded, turned to white.

The flowers stop chanting. She wakes up, thinking it's all over, but the light is still blinding, and her eyes still hurt.

"Mlle! Mlle, vous devez sortir maintenant. Nous sommes ici."

I opened my eyes and blinked a few times. What was that dream? Who was that girl? And why is someone talking to me in french?

Because you're in France.

Oh, right. Thanks, Person.

"Uh, yeah." I muttered as I slowly got off the plane, my face flushed in embarrassment. "Uh, merci."

The flight attendant just glared at me angrily. I guess I was talking in my sleep or something, but they didn't have to be so rude about it! I hurriedly rushed off the plane and into the building.

"C'mon, Sheila," I mumbled. I had used a little acting and a little Mist to convince the flight attendant that Sheila was my guide dog, and I was blind.

Meaning she got her own seat, her own pillow, and her own meal. (She liked that.)

I tried to navigate the building with my handy built in GPS (OK, the voice in my head that has nothing better to do than laugh as I try to read airport signs in French), but I was desperately failing. I finally figured out that most of the workers there spoke a little English, so I was then able to find my way to the baggage claim.

I stood at baggage claim deux, (two) and waited for my baggage to come around.

You know that feeling you get when you're waiting for someone or something, and you know it'll be coming soon, so you don't take out a book or anything? But in the meantime you're dying of boredom? Yeah, that''s it. Except I have A.D.D., so it's harder for me. (All of you A.D.'s out there should understand!)

Ten minutes.

Twenty.

Thirty.

All the luggage was gone, and my bag hadn't come around yet. It's red, with the words "ANNABETH CHASE" Written very clearly on it, so no one could have taken it. I knew the airplane just doesn't just open up in the middle of flight, so it either was sent on the wrong flight or stolen by an airport worker.

(The A.D.D. part of my brain was giggling, imagining my suitcase falling out and hitting a random French person.)

I wandered around the airport, trying to find the office for complaints and missing baggage.

Key word: Tried.

I also got lots of stares because of Sheila.

Person kinda/sorta/not really helped, telling me to enter certain rooms, in case that was the room I was looking for.

Another tidbit of information: Apparently, the voice in my head speaks French.

Go in there, it said, as we passed a room. It looked dingy and dirty from the outside, with the words "Bagage énorme / bagage Manquant" written faintly in peeling paint.

I paused. Uh, why? I asked.

Trust me, said Person. It means oversized baggage/missing baggage. That's where you need to go.

I reluctantly agreed and opened the door. The room was well lit, but I couldn't see a person in sight.

The most I got to see of the room was a wooden desk and a gray carpet. Because the instant I closed the door, someone from behind me grabbed my arm and spun me around. They slammed a cloth drenched in liquid over my face that smelled sickly sweet.

I fell to the floor, but not before I saw one thing:

A cornflower blue eye.

The eye of the girl in my dream.

And then I fainted.

Finish.

So, whad'ya think?

I'm REALLY EXCITED for the next chapter. It's where things start to get interesting.

Oh, and clearspring 2009/Percabeth95, who guessed why Annabeth has to go to Paris, you'll be in the next chapter.

NEXT FEW CHAPTERS INCLUDE:

French girls, german boys, secret organizations, powers, monsters, help, statues, love triangles, adoptions, truths, mysteries, and COFFEECAKE! (Just Kidding about the last one. No coffecake. Sorry.)