(EDIT: This chapter was redone on the 20/12/2014. This chapter now has a new title to match the altered storyline, as well as a much better nightmare sequence. This was done to better reflect my vision and style that is present in this story, and some details will affect events in later chapter, mainly Act 3. If you have the time, could you please comment on this edited version?)

Hello everyone!

Before I say anything else, I just wanted to apologized about the lateness of this chapter. This chapter should have been finished months ago, but I have had millions of things on and my beta did also. School has also been taking over my life, working me to my limit, so I haven't had much time to write. Hopefully, I will be able to get some time now, as it is my two week holiday break, to write a few chapters...

Now, about this chapter...it is much darker than what all the chapters have been up to this point. This is my first time writing something with this kind of feel, so if you have any suggestions on what I could do to make it better, I would be most grateful.

I would like to thank mixaholic and Ninja-chan42 for reviewing; you have helped me out so much! Also, to Arixa for being by beta for this chapter; this chapter would of been disastrous without you, so thank you so much. In fact, I would like to dedicate this chapter to YOU.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Dr Seuss genre, it characters or its stories. That belongs to Dr Seuss Enterprise. I also don't own Seussical, its characters or its songs. That belongs to Lynn Ahrens, Stephen Flaherty and Universal. I only own Kirsty, all to do directly with her, and the story of the 'Eleven Doors', which is important later on in the story.

Hope you enjoy!

~ Sophie

Chapter 12: A Splintered Recollection

"You think you're so special, don't you?"

Within a split second, Kirsty's eyes fluttered open, the teenager panting and sweating like she had just run an Olympic marathon. She attempted to sit up, but struggled, her arms shaking rapidly. Eventually, she managed to sit herself up, but on trying to get out of her hammock, she was stopped, her legs feelings half paralysed. All she could feel was her heart, its loud, heavy beat ten times faster than it was meant to be.

"The nightmare again…"

Twisted memories and visions flashed across Kirsty's vision, while familiar words branded themselves into her brain, making it hard for the girl to control her balance. I thought I had got them under control. I'm such an idiot! This hadn't been the worst one she had had- these type of dreams were a regular thing, occurring since her early teens- but it had caused the greatest shock, the whole concept warped in way she had never expected. No one knew about them, and she intended to keep it that way, knowing that this was an issue for her to deal with alone.

She managed to direct herself to the small river in front of Horton's hut, the cool river calming and silencing the voices circling her mind. Even though the wind was cold, and there was a light drizzle, Kirsty sat herself down on a small rock, unaffected by the weather. The whole jungle was practically silent, something the teenager was yet to get used to, her old residence full of the familiar noise and sounds of the city. However tonight, it consoled Kirsty, a suitable balance to the hectic affairs inside her head.

"Can't sleep, huh?"

Kirsty glanced to her side, noticing Horton coming towards her. Quickly, she wiped the dry tears from her face, removing any evidence of her problems. She moved her glance away when he sat beside her, trying to remove attention from herself.

"I always like the jungle at night this time of year, you know?" Horton said, looking out at the starts. "Quiet, at ease…at peace. It is as if, for one moment, that everything is right, like we are living in another heaven." He sighed, before looking back to the teenager. "You don't talk much, do you? Is something up?"

Shuffling to the side, Kirsty didn't respond, which only made Horton more determined. "Come on, you can't hide from me forever. I know something's up. If anything is wrong, you can always-"

"-It's none of your concern," Kirsty interrupted. "Anyway, I'm fine."

Concern now covering his face, he muttered. "Well, that's an outright lie." When Kirsty snapped her head around to face him, he continued, wrapping his trunk around her hands so she would be forced to look him in the eye. "Please, Kirsty. Talk to me. You have hardly spoken since you came back from Whoville this afternoon. I haven't been able to get in touch with Jojo. Is he okay? What happened over there?"

It took a while before Kirsty gave Horton a suitable response, the girl not knowing where to begin. "It's complicated…where would you like me to start?"

Satisfied, Horton let one of her hands go, and began to stroke the other. "How about we start at the beginning? What is your family like? Besides Mr and Mrs Mayor, of course. Do you have any-"

"Mr and Mrs Mayor aren't my parents."

Horton paused, raising an eyebrow. "Oh…so are they your adoptive parents or something like that? Or are they your foster parents? Or only family members?"

"They aren't my parents. They never were. I-….I'm a human."

"A….human?" the word sounded funny in Horton's throat, coming out slightly jumbled. "What in the world is that? I've never heard of them before. Is that some kind of Who?"

Kirsty sighed, shaking her head. This is what she had feared, and knew would happen if she ever would have the guts to explain her situation to Horton. For the following hour, the teenager simply and slowly explained what humans were, and how she came from a world outside of this one. Horton sat, listening attentively, only asking a few questions, and soon understood the basics, including why she reacted the way she did on their first encounter.

When his friend has finished her explanation, Horton gave out a small laugh. "You were right when you said your story was complicated," he told her, before growing serious. "But, wait…if you come from another world, what about your family back there? And your friends? Won't they be worried about you?"

"I-I don't have any," Kirsty whispered, as she looked down at the water beneath her feet. "I'm an orphan. My parents don't exist…not anymore. I lost them a short time after I was born, so I don't know that much about it. It was an accident, that's how I got this." Pulling down her high collar, Horton saw that on her neckline was a collection of thin lines, once a large scar. "I never knew them- I don't even know their names or what they look like- so it doesn't worry me much."

Keeping quiet, Horton gave her a hug with his trunk, which deeply hid the slight suspicion that he felt that Kirsty was just repeating an overdone story and that something grimmer, and more unnerving, hid underneath her almost convincing façade. For Kirsty, this hug was a chance for her to let out a few much needed tears, the girl not having the valour to show her pain to her elephant friend.

Releasing the girl from his embrace, he decided to clear the air with a lighter approach. "Hey, how about I tell you a story my mamma once told me?"

Not in a mood to argue, Kirsty gave in, as Horton snuggled up next to her, putting his trunk around her shoulders. "When I was much smaller, my mamma used to tell me the most amazing stories, full of wonder, adventure and the most impossible things imaginable. Once, she told me the tale of the eleven doors, which was, in my opinion, one of the most mysterious."

Seeing Kirsty's eyes widen slightly, curious to know more, he continued. "The first door, she told me, showed a world where the wildest creatures roamed, the terrain as complicated and extreme as its citizens itself. The second lay a world inhabited by minuscule people who couldn't be seen even by the strongest eye, their planet sometimes in the form of a dust mould, and sometimes as a snowflake, depending on the season.

With each door he explained, the more excited he became, Horton knowing this story entirely off by heart. "The third held a tropical land, its most famous element being a pool filled with the most unusual underwater creatures, of all shapes and sizes, who could sing in every possible and impossible language ever once spoken. The forth led to an island of intelligent turtles, while the fifth was the gateway to a seaside paradise where all worries were forgotten and time didn't matter. The sixth door was a place full of fantasies, glamor and people who played a thousand parts, the seventh was a place once of judgement, now a place of unity, independence and admiration, and the eight was a city where your birthday is considered a national holiday."

"The ninth door…" he said, taking a deep breath in. "was my mother's absolute favourite. It leads the most special, but sometimes the most emotion place of all, a place where who you are doesn't lead to shame. Its name was Solla Sollew."

That name, for some particular reason, struck a chord with Kirsty. "Solla Sollew…" she murmured to herself, desperately trying to grab a hold of a distant memory, but she failed to establish how it was familiar. "What about the last two?"

"The last two doors were the most mysterious, and almost paralleled from all the others," Horton told her, his voice growing deep. "The tenth door lead to a place where your story never mattered, and its pages could be rewritten. The eleventh door was perhaps the most important of all, a place of births, deaths and alternative paths. No one knew much about them, as no one who was told to have been through them…at least to what we know."

Kirsty's eyes went wide again, eager to know more. "What, you mean to say that people could have gone in there, yet their memory was deleted? How-"

"Slow down! Kirsty, it's just a story! Most people just think it's a myth," Horton said, trying to calm her down. "As a little kid, I used to think it was real, and for years, I would go in search for the doors, wanting to be the first kid in Nool to be brave enough to find them. But, as I grew up and after my mother disappeared, I learnt that stories are just a mix of fact and mostly fiction. Besides, how could something like those doors stay hidden forever?"

Before Kirsty could say another word, Horton was on his feet, looking back to his hut. "Come on, you should get some sleep. You've had a big day."

"Yeah…" she responded, also standing up. "Especially after I became the council's public enemy number one. And got Jojo back in trouble…."

Immediately, Horton turned back around, his expression shocked. "What?" He went back over to Kirsty, demanding answers. "Jojo's in trouble? Did something happen to you two?"

The teenager shuffled her feet, this issue also a complicated one. "I don't know. All I know is that the council has been keeping tabs on me, and that they are hiding something, something big. They know things that no one else knows, and they are in contact with someone…I'm not sure who, who is trying to complete some huge operation."

"Whatever it is, it sounds suspicious," Horton said. "Have you told your D - I mean, Mr Mayor?" He let out a small groan, annoyed at how quickly he had forgotten that very important detail. "I'm sorry. It's going to take me a while to remember all this stuff. But are you- this seems like something he should be involved in."

"I'm not sure…" Kirsty answered. "I think it is best if we keep it to ourselves for the time being, just in case it leads to nothing. Anyways, I want to explore it further. Something just seems wrong, everywhere I turn I can feel it."

The two soon went back to the hut, Horton personally putting the teenagers to sleep before he himself, went back to his own bed. Just as she thought she would finally get some sleep, without warning, Kirsty's head began to sway and multiple colours flashed across her vision. Not long after that, Kirsty collapsed into her hammock, her eyes closing, leading the way for her unsettled mind to take over.

Rain falls heavily against the tin iron roof, the very thing which causes Kirsty to open her eyes. The moment her eyes lay sight of the room in front of her, they wish to seal themselves shut.

"Please…Not this. Anything but this nightmare…."

Her voice comes out in a cracked whisper, almost silent. This scene is one that has been seen more than enough to become familiar, every detail known thousands of times over.

"I'm sorry! Please, please stop!"

The teenager's attention now is placed direction on a tiny girl, close to the age of four. She looks to the eye maybe of age two, her body so small and skinny, but Kirsty has seen her enough to know her true age.

"Please…" the girl sobs, her small tears splashing across her now destroyed outfit. Her entire leg is covered with small bruises, and her right cheek now dons a fresh bloody scar. The moment the child's head lifts up, Kirsty is frozen shut upon the sight of her eyes, filled with pure fright and terror.

"You think you can just walk in here and get away with all the pain your life had caused my family Who in the world do you think you are?"

Instantly, the girl disappears, and Kirsty's eyes are directed to another corner of the room, where another child, about eight years old, lies on the floor, rasping for air. Before the girl can even try and recover, the owner of the voice comes into view. Soon after, the figure comes up close to the girl and kicks her repeatedly in the chest, causing the child to cry out in pain.

"You know the rules, kid," the figure continues, their voice having an upper class feminine pitch. "Remember, If you try and break our little deal-"

Carefully, the figure lifts up the girl by her neck and without warning, a dagger is pulled from the figure's pocket, which rapidly swipes across the girl's neck. Shocked, the girl lets out a blood curdling scream, and quickly rips apart fabric from her clothes to stop what seems like a waterfall of blood. The figure does nothing to help the girl, instead walks out of view with one final statement, one which sent shivers down Kirsty's spine.

"-…you may regret it..."

As the figure made a slow exit, the young girl remains lying on the ground, crying in a small puddle of her own blood on the hardwood floors. Eventually, she manages to lift herself up, her eyes an even more haunting image than the previous girl.

Soon, the girl vanished, the room seemingly empty, as the sun began to shine through the cracked windows. Kirsty is still frozen- this was always the most haunting moment- even when she senses the presence of someone behind her. She turns, seeing a girl sitting on the window's ledge, their long blonde hair blowing lightly in the early morning breeze. In their hands is a knife, identical to the one seen earlier, which the girl is turning over in her hands.

Unlike the rest of the nightmare, the whole section is peaceful and calm, a dramatic and partly unsettling change, which Kirsty expected. She has seen all this before, once even from another angle, and knows how it all progresses. As Kirsty moves over to the window, the girl remains silent, their breathing and the slight wind the only sound in the whole room. When Kirsty is almost right behind the girl, an eerie and unanticipated voice speaks up.

"You can't hide from your past forever. Just look at the damage already."

That sentence confuses Kirsty, now having the courage to speak. "What are you talking about?"

"Just never let your guard down, especially in this world. You may believe that this is all a dream, but just because something is a dream doesn't mean it won't leave a generous mark." This causes the girl on the window to turn to face Kirsty, a figure who Kirsty hasn't ever seen before, the whole orientation of this dream now turned on its head. She seems almost recognizable, except for the major detail of her eyes, which are a deep blue-black colour. However, all that she can see is the agony and cruel that lies beneath them, something out of her worst nightmare.

"Prepare yourself, younger self. Your own troubles are the least of your worries…."