Mornings are hell.

No joke, I am NOT a morning person. I hate them with all my being, and I would avoid getting up early if I could. But this was the big Friday when I go to get out of school to go on the camping trip. So here I was; up at six or so in the morning so that we would be able to spend a weekend in the cabin.

Rubbing my eyes, I tried to keep myself up. Mom looked like she was thrilled to be awake. She amazed me with her ability to get up early and stay up late, but still be cheerful. Me? I wanted to roll over and die. I refused to allow myself to ruin the morning by complaining.

Dragging my feet, we packed the jeep up, and Mom started driving. I simply closed my eyes, and fell asleep listening to a Madonna album that Mom had packed. It sounded like "Like a Virgin", but I wasn't too sure. Shrugging it off, I faded into oblivion.

I have always dreamed. They usually make little to no sense, or they end up being horribly dark. There really is no in between. Last night, for the first time in ages, my dream had made perfectly good sense. And that scared me. What terrified me more was that I was having the same dream again.

It was like I was sent back in time. There I was, in the woods, just like I had been when I was six. But now, I was eighteen. My dream-self felt a sense of urgency and fear. Like I was running from something, which was simply ridiculous because there was nothing in those woods. Taking deep breaths, (even in my dreams I wasn't a good athlete) I turned around. At that moment, something akin to fear and wonder filled me.

There he was. After twelve years, the golden boy stood there. He looked a little older than I, about twenty or so, and he had such an imperious air to him. But what really struck me was that he was beautiful. I mean, not just movie star gorgeous. I mean shoot-me-dead gorgeous. He made Orlando Bloom look passably handsome. While I was busy trying to tell myself that this was stupid, because it was probably just my dream glorifying him, he took a few large steps towards me, and he was in my space.

Gaping at him, he smirked. 'Arrogant asshole,' was the first phrase that popped into my head. I would not be intimidated by him because he was taller than me. (Which is no great feat, I'm fairly petite.) Stamping my foot in annoyance, I widened my stance and put my hands on my hips. "Who the hell are you?" I demanded. His facial expression did not change; he just looked like he was amused with my bravado. This only annoyed me further.

So I slapped him.

I barely knew the guy, a word hadn't passed between us, and I slapped the prettiest guy in the whole wide world.

I was an idiot.

Angrily, he grabbed both of my wrists and pushed me up against a tree. Curse my subconscious for putting me in such a compromising position. Rolling my eyes mentally, I glared at this guy. I was shocked to see how feral he looked. Like some mountain cat who was getting ready to tear me to bits. I won't lie; I was scared out of my wits. At the same time, I felt horribly attracted to him. Once again, I yelled at my subconscious for egging me on.

Staring at me with eyes colored like steel and glinting like silver, he looked ready to kill me. My heart skipped a beat in fear. He was going to do it. I'd woken a beast and I was going to pay for it. Tensing in panic, I resisted the urge to throw up.

He did no such thing to me. As suddenly as he was angry, he was smirking again. Seeing that this agitated me, the smirk widened to a smile. 'Die, die, die,' I thought at him. Maybe that would solve my problems. It didn't. Why wasn't this dream allowing me to at least feel like I had a little power! Not for the first time, I told myself that my subconscious sucked.

While I was thinking, he had leaned forward. His breath tickled my cheek, and he smelled, oddly enough, like spring. I know it's strange for someone to smell like a season, but I've noticed that during the spring the air smells warm, fresh, and perhaps a little like grass. It's hard to describe, but it was what I smelled. "A debt must be paid," he whispered. His voice was rich and smooth. "Remember the rose."

Then he was gone. Blinking, I looked around. And began to feel myself wake up…

Groaning in real life, I rubbed my eyes. Glancing at the hazy, blue tinted world, I saw that it was twelve forty-seven. Which meant that we were probably almost to the cabin. I looked at Mom, who was looking contemplative. She was, I also noticed, was using an ear bud to have a conversation with someone. Shifting in my seat as quietly as possible, I yawned once. My mom shot me a brief smile, before saying, "Oh, the teenager is up. I think I'll talk to her now. Talk to you later, Danielle!"

The conversation ended, Mom turned her attention to me. "You slept pretty well, although you started mumbling in the last couple minutes. What didja dream about?" The question made me pause. I hated that sort of question. I rarely remembered the specifics of my dreams… I just remembered key parts of it.

Frowning, I said, "I was in the woods… and there was a guy there… I honestly don't remember that much." I shrugged. Something in the back of my mind tugged at me, as if it were important. "Oh yeah! It was the kid I ran into in the woods. Except he was grown up and stuff." Why that little nugget of information was important, I don't know. But Mom frowned when I said that, as if concerned.

"Oh. Weird dream," she said, chuckling a little. Her frown was gone, and I brushed it off as Mom over thinking what the boy and I had done in the woods. Inwardly, I was embarrassed. The thought of him and me… a giddy giggle bubbled up in my mind, and I brushed the thought off. That was just ridiculous.

"Yeah, no kidding," I replied, my tone bubbling with laughter. "So how much longer 'til we're there?"

Leaning back in her seat, Mom seemed to relax. "Not much longer." Just as she said that, the familiar side road caught our eyes, and she grinned. "In fact, we're about to arrive!" Telling me about the new development in the Seymour divorce case, we happily rode to the cabin and began to unpack. I just hoped that the case didn't get in the way of our weekend together, as amusing as it was to hear about what the wife had done to her husband's car…