Clicking at girls with the corner of my mouth, I trudge out of the yellow, clunky box of metal. The school bus drives away, leaving me standing on the sidewalk a block away from my house. I walk in that direction for about 30 seconds, and something grabs my eye. Nothing specific enough to make out, but a blur passes from behind one tree to the next on the lawn on the other side of the street. Not enough to worry me, I continue to stroll home.

But I should have trusted my instincts. Because in the grass across from me, with her bare feet, is Caf, holding a bow with a wad of parchment in the sling where the arrow should go.

I can almost see my heart pounding as I create a dead stare on her. Caf appears to have spotted me, and blinks out of sight.

And right when I think I'm alone, I swivel around and come face-to-face with Caf less than a meter away from me, her bow drawn and aimed at my head.

Without a thought about it, my hand reaches out and grasps the collar of her shirt.

In a split second, I take in her appearance. A light skin tone, with the dirty blonde curls I have always noticed, a bit longer than shoulder-length. She has stormy blue eyes with a flicker of aqua in them. Her face doesn't have too many sharp angles, but they aren't rounded either. A good middle feature. Caf is wearing an ocean blue swoop-neck shirt that matches her irises. Small gray shorts with a piece of gray fabric for the belt tied into a bow. I realize Caf can't be more than 14 years old, she might be younger though, I can't tell.

Her squeals check me back into reality. "Eeee! Get off me! Stop touching me!" Her hands swat ineffectively swat at my hard grip. "I'm not supposed to make physical contact with you!" I now notice her bow and paper are gone, not in her hands or on the ground.

"Why should I?" My voice comes out stern, but I really am scared inside of this strange girl.

"Do whatever you want with me, just let go!" Her skinny little body thrashes around, not in any way helping herself.

An idea zips to me. In the garden one over to the left of me, the owner has a miniature dog constantly on a leash tied to a tree. The dog always finds a way out of its collar, so the owner keeps a spare set by in case a chasing scene is to arise.

As quickly as humanly possible, I drag Caf, who stumbles over her own feet, to the lawn. I release one hand from her shirt to fumble with the collar next to the stump. Caf falls down to her knees when I squat down to pick it up, taking me along with her. Laying on my side, I wrap the collar around her neck and attach the leash. "There."

She looks down at the collar and leash covered in silver glitter. She glares at me. "Your kidding me."

"Well?" I have to figure out who this chick is. "Follow me."

"Do I have a choice?" she says sardonically.

I lead Caf on her leash over the street and to the front door of my house. "Don't worry," I say back to her, "My parents won't be home 'til 7."

I expected Caf to make some sarcastic remark, but when she doesn't, I unlock the front door and lead her inside to my room.

My first visualization of her walking into my room is to stare and admire. Instead, she strides past my shelf of expensive items and flops down on onto the bean bag chair as if she has lived here for a million years. I pin the loop around the end of the leash under a chair leg and sit on the chair in the corner of my room.

"So, tell me, Caf," I start.

She almost yells, "How do you know my name? Stalker!"

"Okay, well, first, you're the stalker," she nods her head like she already knows, "and all of your notes are signed by you."

"Really?" She stares off into the distance, trying to analyze something. Finally, she shakes her head and says, "So, what were you going to ask me?"

There's so many things to ask from this girl, but I guess I will just start off with something simple. "Why didn't you poof away when I grabbed you?"

"Well..." She takes a deep breath and then looks at me as if I were about to die. "You may not believe me but... I'm an Author."

I take in a collective gasp. "I thought Author's were myths!"

"But were not! Actually, were all around you, waiting, watching, ready to spring out at the most unexpected moment!"

I shudder. That's a bit... Intimidating. "So why didn't you escape from me?"

"As an Author, Characters aren't supposed to know about us. But you making physical contact with me crossed the line! I'm surprised I haven't been showing any symptoms..." Caf delicately inspects the movement of her phalanges.

"Symptoms of what?"

Her voice drops to a whisper. "Fictobia." She looks around the room, like someone might have heard. "It's this curse. If an Author gets too close to a Character-"

I interrupt, "Wait! Are you saying I'm a Character?"

Her pupils widen. "I said nothing!" When I don't respond, she continues. "Well, when a Character and Author make physical contact too much, well, you know, kablooey." Caf wiggles her fingers like falling rain.

A laugh barks out of me. "And you actually believe this?"

"No," she rushes, "It's true! To be honest with you, my friend, Hij, was slowly getting too attached to a Character and... I've never seen her since."

Really? I don't say anything offensive so she won't mourn over her 'dead' Author friend thingy, but that just doesn't sound possible. "So, what about having physical contact with me?" I ask, ringing up the unanswered question.

"To start, Authors are nothing but normal people, living in our own dimension. But when we become an Author, all the dimensions are in our hands. Magic, emotions, life as a whole. Anything you want could come true." I open my mouth to order a trunk of money, but she cuts me off saying, "Anything I want could come true. A fictional dimension could prosper, or crush beneath our fingers. Just like you."

"What about me!" I scream.

Caf's eye twitches, but other than that, she keeps a straight and urbane look. "Originally, you were supposed to die in the Hunger Games. But I rewrote segments, and that's how you and Clove escaped against all odds." I gulp.

"Anyways, Authors can do anything they simply imagine, except for when Characters interfere. When that happens, our powers are temporarily lost because the Character takes over the Author's will. That's why I couldn't escape. Even now, through indirect contact, this irritating collar is a brick wall to me. And no, don't look at me like I'm stupid, I can't just take it off because that would mean interfering with your choices. A dimension is the Author's until the Character gains confidence. But don't get me wrong, I'm still pretty powerful."

I rub my temple with my thumb, digging deep into my skin. "I- Th- Too confusing..."

"Thats okay, you might need to have some time to take this all in and-"

I stop sitting in my lethargic slouch and speak with usher, "Keep going. Why do you send me lists of how-to's in the first place?"

Caf exhales a dramatic breath. "Okay, there's two reasons. The first, there are these mythical creatures called Reviews. Very fragile and rare, less and less come around these days. The more I write about you, the more Reviews pile in. One day I hope to breed them...

"The second reason is because I think these how-to's will some day save the fictional dimensions from boring scenes and death of important Characters."

I jump on the sentence. "Cool! I can be a super hero and save everyone and-"

"Whoa, slow down there," she yields, holding her hands out in front of her, "Reamus Lupin is a long way to go. But we could start off with something a bit easier, like adding a little razzle-dazzle to the Ceasar Flickerman interviews?"

I hesitate. I'm not too sure what that's going to be like, but I can already sence the uneasiness settling in my stomach. I can't turn this girl down, I don't care how much indirect contact I have with her, it's still scary. "Sure?"

"Good. Now, get some sleep. You're going to be in for a day tomorrow."

I raise my eyebrow. "But I'm not tir-"

"I said get some sleep!" Caf yells. Instantly, I feel my mind being dragged into the thoughtless pit of sleep.

"Wha-" I mumble.

Caf stares angrily at her collar, refusing to meet my eyes. "You've only been out for half a minute, Cato. I said," her voice suddenly rises, "Go back to sleep!"

Once again, I feel that wave slosh over me, pulling me by my hands into the depths of my own mind.

Thanks for reading! And a shout-out to Hateisjustaword, for letting me use her name in the story. The next chapter will include a how-to, just wait! I appreciate all of my reviewers. Help support the mystical Review creature from going extinct by pushing the button right below!