Chapter Two - Imagination Can Be the Death of You

I woke up. Where was I? A room? Who's room was this? Why was there so much purple and white? Why was I wearing a pink tank top that according to the label was from the store Pink, and black shorts that were also from Pink also. I didn't own anything from Pink. Why was I wearing this stuff?

Oh my God. I saw my messy hair fall upon my bare shoulders. Since when did I have BLONDE HIGHLIGHTS! Okay something was not right here. Was I kidnapped and raped? Put here to be tortured by a creepy serial killer?

I quickly got up from the bed and crept into the hallway.

The one and only Lady Lana's voice filled the floor below and I felt my insides rush with relief. At least I knew I hadn't been kidnapped.

I went down the stairs and into a living room. It was kind of small. Lana was on her phone- an old silver Motorola. Where was her Android that she usually had?

"Of course Robert, love you." she cooed into the phone and then snapped it shut.

"Who's Robert?" I blurted. "Aren't you dating Warren?"

"Warren?" she laughed sweetly. "Sweetie, who is Warren? You know Rob, we've been dating for 2 years now."

I blinked. "Where am I?"

She looked puzzled. "Home...?"

"This is not home."

She shook her head. "Sorry. This is home, Samantha. Stop playing games. Now get ready for school."

"School?"

"Yes, school! Oh, and I forgot to say! Happy Birthday!"

"What? It's my birthday? But where am I?"

"Home!" she laughed again and got up. While she was walking away I heard her mutter jokingly, "Kids and their games."

Home? Was I dreaming?

I pinched myself. Again. And again. I went back to the room I had found myself in and tried to go back to sleep so I would wake up and everything would be okay again. But I didn't.

I couldn't go to sleep.

So I was probably in a really extensive dream, that's all.

I sighed frustrated and went to my closet. Hopefully I still went to William Rose Junior High, right? And maybe this dream would be over soon.

I opened up the walk-in closet door just to find the closet of a...a Heather. No seriously, the closet was packed with Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister and...well, that's all. Those were the only labels I had seen.

Who spends this much time loading their closet with this stuff?

Annoyed, I chose a white tank-top and a red (Hollister) hoodie. And a pair of (Abercrombie & Fitch) jeans that were ripped at the knees. I could tell that the rips were purposely supposed to be there already.

Okay. Maybe my outfit was labeled with brands that I never usually wore, but at least it was close enough to my usual outfits that I wore in my real life, which was just a hoodie and jeans. Now time for shoes.

There better be high-tops in this closet.

I bent down to take a look at the shoe selection. A pair of plaid ballet flats, a pair of chocolate-brown Uggs (like Casey's eyes!), a black pair of flip-flops (who wore flip-flops anymore, anyway?), and last but not least a pair of gray and pink and black Pumas.

And no high-tops.

I took the Pumas. They were the closest I could get to high-tops. I slipped them on and went to brush my teeth and wash my face.

When I got downstairs Lana was...making. Breakfast.

What?

"Are you making breakfast?"

She looked and me and gave me a funny look. "I make breakfast every morning, Samantha."

"No, you don't." I blinked.

"Samantha," she walked over to me slowly, "are you feeling okay? You seem very out of it today."

"I'm okay! But you never make breakfast! And who's house is this? Why am I here? Why are YOU here?"

She blinked. Then as if everything was happening in slow motion she opened her mouth and said slowly, "This is our home, Samantha." she placed a hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. "And we've been living here every since you started kindergarten. And I do make breakfast for you. Every. Morning."

That was it.

I screamed.

I was screaming bloody murder and Lana freaked out. "Samantha! Do you need to see a doctor? Samantha! Samantha! I think you should stay home today!"

I shook my head. "No! I'm going to school." I needed to see my friends. They had to remember. They HAD to remember! Why wasn't this dream ending? And why did it feel so real? Dreams never usually feel this real. "Do I still go to William Rose?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes, but I think you need to stay home today. You seen very different."

"No! I'm going to school!" I flailed.

Then I stormed out of the house and on my way to William Rose Junior High.