I felt like I had just woken up from sleep when the bleak air slapped my face. A few strands of my ponytail came loose, slapping me, or would get caught onto one of the branches or plants I was running past. It made me wince from pain or annoyance each time, but it wouldn't deter me from my goal. The silence that settled in the forest would usually cause calmness and allure me to spend a few moments within it, but now. It was a nightmare; the sun was not fully up to lighten the atmosphere, and the misty chill the wind would carry only created the opposite effect. I could feel my leg muscles cramp from the overexertion I was pushing my body into.

The fog that settled on the forest obscured my view from what was in front of me and behind me. I couldn't tell which direction I came from and where I was heading. A sudden draining of realization made its way to my head. 'I'm running in circles.' No matter the thought, I continued jogging; a feeling of anxiety and hysterics bubbled, but I had enough strength to will it inside and refuse to let it distract me from surviving. I furrowed my eyebrows, 'distract me from what?' I didn't let the thought settle as much as I had hoped as I kept searching for asphalt that began to touch the forest or any nearby opening the forest may have that would lead me to anyone close by. 'People! More people, the less likely I'd die.' The thought made me want to cry, prompting my slow jog back into a sprint Coach Clapp would be proud of.

I could hear an eerie laugh as if taunting me. The forest, allowing it to echo, brought a few tears of helplessness to escape my eyes. The knotted, churning feeling began to make itself known in my gut. The anxiety and fear I tried so hard began to crawl out insitingly. Goosebumps popped up to settle and watch my breakdown. I did my best to take as much air as possible to calm my thoughts and heart, but I knew it was only a matter of time before whatever caught up to me. The danger was near, and by the sound of it close.

I continued to push myself, feeling my heart pound against my ribs as if trying to escape its demented cage. I could feel the sweat pouring down my temples. The loose strands of hair stuck to my forehead and neck, while the light jacket and thermal top I had decided on kept me too warm for comfort. I regretted it but didn't stop to take the jacket off.

I didn't remember when I woke up or changed from my sleepwear to a light hiking attire, but I knew from the time of my watch I had to hold on until 7 AM, two hours from now. "My watch?" I murmured. I knew it wasn't mine when I saw the silver gleam of material that lay happily on my wrist. The most expensive thing I owned was the pearl earrings Angela and I received on our quinceanera. I ram my left shoulder onto the tree bark, which caused me to slam my knees on the hard ground. I used my hands to avoid harming my face, too. But it didn't do much.

I groaned loudly. I did not care about the animal after me — hitting the tree while sprinting was excruciating for my low pain tolerance. I studied my hands to assess what damage was made. My wrist felt sore, and the scratches on my palms stung, but nothing seemed broken. Not even the watch. Looking closely, I could confirm it didn't belong to me or anyone I knew. I rubbed my dirty hands on my leggings, careful not to irritate them more. I could feel the weight of the pack now that I wasn't sprinting like a maniac. I huffed, carefully taking the pack off so as not to hurt my shoulder more. The pink windbreaker was now suffocating me as it stuck to all areas wet with sweat. I quickly yet gently took it off, dropping it to the ground.

I had to get my bearings straight. I kneel near a random stump, trying to camouflage with my surroundings. Any doubts I had had before were eliminated from my mind. Everything I touched with my hands felt familiar, and mine, but I had no recollection of these items. An overwhelming sense of Deja vu washed over my core when I took off the pale pink windbreaker; the one I had no recollection of and was fully aware was not hanging in the closet Angela and I shared. It's as if I had been through this, but I couldn't think of anything to give me this sense.

I pressed my hand to my heart, feeling my pulse slam each time. I still hadn't caught my breath. I attempted to find water in the pack to help. However hopeful I was, it was immediately gone when I realized nothing could help me. I groaned, coughing as I looked for anything that might be of use. 'Nothing here.' I confirmed. I could kick myself for creating such a horror-like scenario for myself. My dreams usually consisted of traveling and eating, maybe a hot make-out with Alex Landi or Michael B. Jordan. Hey, sometimes it was both. I massaged my shoulder as I got up from my position. 'No need to mope around something that was already happening.' I thought.

I could hear the distant sound of running water and the closer sound of a branch snapping high from a tree. It was too close for comfort. I looked up, causing my already-accelerated heart to skip a beat painfully. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. I wanted to shrug it off as a bird or the wind snapping the branches, but my body and gut told me otherwise. 'Proceed with caution.' The thought didn't belong to me, making me tense every muscle I could.

"Proceed with caution," I whispered to myself, deciding to follow the sound of the water that I could follow toward the reservation. I did my best to avoid stepping on twigs that may give away my position to anything dangerous lurking around. I mentally cheered once I spotted the running water. 'Rub mud all over,' I blinked, eyeing the wet mud the stream of water would caress here and there as it ran. 'mask your scent.' I didn't understand where these thoughts came from, and as much as I wanted to question it, I didn't have the luxury.

I knelt before the stream, grabbing as much water as possible to splash on my face, hoping it'd calm me down. I smiled to myself, cooling down. I went to grab more until my eyes took in my appearance. My usual straight black hair was different. Heck, everything was different. The reflection on the stream wasn't me but a woman close to my mom's age. Her tan skin was sunkissed with freckles speckled more on one side of her face and neck. Her eyes were a dark onyx color, beautifully framed with thick eyelashes. Her hair was a light brown, frizzed in its ponytail, with her natural curls bouncing and tangling from running around. I lifted my hand to my face to realize I was the other woman.

My calmed demeanor was now shocked as my - her - eyes widened. This was a dream. It had to be a dream. I kept observing my - her - reflection, trying to pinpoint if I had ever seen this woman before. I closed my eyes, breathing through my nose as the churning feeling in my gut began to appear. I, however, ignored it. I was keeping my eyes on the reflection below. I was too shocked to do anything, to be honest. The revelation of everything happening made me too tired to do anything.

"There you are." before I could turn around entirely to whoever had spoken, I was already up in the air as something hard of stone clutched my throat. My focus was still on the reflection, and although I couldn't see the person behind me, I was given a perfect view of their fiery red hair and flawless pale skin. "You've no idea how much fun it was," I knew by the sound of their voice that they were female. It was soothing yet seductive, a voice men would fall for. "Chasing you. The chase is always the best part." This time, she whispered it close to my ear. Shivers of fear and overwhelming pain ran through my spine. The feeling in my gut intensified as I placed my hands over hers.

It was a sad attempt to loosen her grip on my throat, but it didn't do much but provoke her to tighten. I could hear the air escape my throat while it crushed slowly from her inhuman strength. I felt the tears rapidly fall; the pain was excruciating, and although I did my best to breathe from my nose, I knew I wouldn't last long. "Pl- Please," I croaked.

I couldn't see behind me, invoking more fear and prompting me to throw up my guts. "They always say the same thing." An annoyed male voice interrupted. His voice was thick of an accent I couldn't quite place and had no time to as a second male voice joined. "Stop playing around and eat. We need to place her with her friends."

Lifeless people stripped of blood or looked mauled by an animal flashed before my mind's eye. "Please," I cried, I wasn't in control anymore. I felt myself slowly detached from what was happening as my body acted on its own accord. The strength of the woman's hand wrapped around my neck tightened her hold on the cartilage of my throat. I felt needles penetrate rapidly into the area before she yanked.

It was fast, too fast for my human eye to catch it. My knees slammed onto the ground, but I didn't feel the pain of it. I was too busy holding onto my neck. 'Pressure means cutting circulation, which prevents blood loss.' My mind was frantic with other thoughts on assisting myself in this situation. I gazed at the woman's reflection as an unhealthy amount of blood coated my hands. The smell of copper was suffocating me. From experience, my hands were firm and wrapped around my neck. 'Too much blood.' I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't scream from the endless pain I was enduring. I could only drown in the thick, warm blood that flooded my lungs.

Keeping my focus on the stream's reflection, I could place a face to the wild red curls of hair. She looked petite and fragile; her attire was of someone going shopping, not hiking. She looked too out of place, too good-looking to be out. I could feel myself lose consciousness as I spied her, licking her fingers. I wanted to throw up and scream. I wanted to do something, but I couldn't. "Hurry up, Victoria." It was the last thing before my body gave out, blood spewing onto the ground and my body going into shock. The numbness in my fingers was now spreading to every inch of my body.

I woke up with a start, my heart hammering. "Mom?! MOM!" I screamed, scrambling out of the covers. I felt suffocated, no. I grasped my throat, where I felt the lingering feeling of her sharp claws tearing my throat open and the blood gushing uncontrollably.

The blood. Just thinking about it made me dizzy and lightheaded. 'I think I'm going to puke.' I couldn't keep the thoughts out of my head for the life of me. Instead, the thought continued to mock me, replaying and replaying in my head. "Mom!" I pleaded, screaming as I wanted it to go away. I kept my hand to my throat, putting pressure to keep the blood from leaving me. I heard my parents both barge into the room.

"Angela?" Mom cried, looking at Ang, who slept closest to the door. Angela was sitting up from the bed, her hair all over the place as her eyes widened from my abrupt screams and cries. She was alright - tired and concerned but alright. She scrambled out of bed, focusing solely on me.

Mom then focused on me. "Eleanor!" Mom shouted, rushing towards my side. She noticed my pale face and the hand that gripped my throat. On the other hand, Dad stood at the door, fumbling with the switch to the lamp that would illuminate the room, no doubt, to help him see if there was any luring danger. Angela helps him and stays close to him for comfort and safety.

Mom didn't hesitate before ripping my covers away, trying to get closer to me. She grabbed my hand and held onto my throat, carefully pulling it away so as not to disturb any wound I may have caused. Her eyes teared up with relief when she noticed no cut, which pushed her to study my throat and every inch and crevice of my body. She pulled me into her arms once she knew I wasn't physically harmed. "You're okay." She murmured. She sounded wide awake and mad. Not at me but at the idea of someone harming any of us. "It was just a dream." She kissed my temples and head repeatedly to calm me down.

However much I wanted to believe her, I couldn't. I shook my head. "No," I responded over and over again. "Not a dream." My voice was thick with emotion as I recalled everything: The watch, the pink windbreaker, and the beautiful redhead that had ripped my throat in front of the stream. I saw a reflection of who I thought would be me and of someone else - a woman around Mom's age who was now dead in the forest.

No matter how detailed I was about everything, Mom didn't believe it. She would murmur the words of it being a dream. I gave Dad a pleading look to convince him it wasn't a dream, but he was too busy making sure Angela was lulled back to sleep. I felt helpless; they weren't going to believe me. "Imma throw -" I couldn't finish my sentence, feeling the bile rise in my throat. I reacted much faster than Dad, who turned to look for the trash bin. I found it before he could grab it as it sat near the combined desks across the room's entrance.

Puking my guts from having a nightmare was a new chapter I didn't wish to write about. Ever. I had never experienced something like this before, and no matter how vivid and real it felt, Mom was adamant it was just a dream. 'A dream.' I kept repeating as I dry-heaved a few more times. I felt Dad kneel beside me. He ensured my hair didn't get inside the bin and kept a comforting hand on my back to soothe me.

I gave him a half-hearted smile. I felt shaky and sick, and no doubt from the shared looks my parents gave each other - they saw it, too. "C'mon, mija [daughter]. I think you should take a shower." Mom quickly grabbed a different set of pajamas from the bottom drawers of my bed. Dad helped me up, escorting me out of the room.

I knew I could make it to the bathroom by myself, but having Dad's comforting hand on my back as he helped me move my shaky legs to the bathroom was a gift in disguise. I showered once Dad felt I was okay and Mom had the water running. The comforting white tiles and walls were now painfully striking compared to what I'd just gone through. I lathered myself with the soothing smell of Eucalyptus soap Angela constantly used to help her sleep. I stood there for a few more seconds, letting the water wash away everything I had felt and went through a few moments ago.

"It was just a dream," I repeated, hoping the mantra would ease and stick to my brain. I will never admit to being afraid after my nightmare, but at this second, when no one was there to witness, I didn't wish to see my reflection. I can feel the chills of fear lingering in my core that I would find the woman who had died in my dreams staring at me instead of my reflection. "It was just a dream," I repeated once again.

Drying myself with my towel, I continued to let the water run to eliminate the suds still there from my generous amount of soap usage and to keep the steam covering the mirrors. Knowing I couldn't see myself helped ease my discomfort. My tense shoulders sagged, relaxing.I changed into the new set of pajamas - the yellow floral top and matching shorts were my ultimate favorites in middle school. I brushed my teeth and tongue to eliminate the lingering taste of bile. I wanted to forget everything that happened, including my screaming. I shook my head to escape the thoughts of replaying anything close to what I had dreamt. "It was just a dream," I kept saying it. 'The more I say it, the more likely this will all pass.' I promised myself. I had finished brushing through my hair and felt cleaner and refreshed.

I sighed in relief. I was about to turn off the water when I heard Mom's loud whispering. She was never great at whispering or being secretive. I walked closer to the bathroom entrance and heard her conversation with someone on the phone, whom I can assume was Tia [Aunt] Julia. "I'm telling you, Julia. It happened again. No No. It wasn't Angela this time. It was Ellie."

I could hear her pause, listening to what Tia [Aunt] Julia told her. I furrowed my eyebrows, doing my best to eavesdrop. I could slap myself for being so nosy, but the idea of Mom calling Tia Julia this late over my 'just a dream' fiasco didn't sit well with me, especially since Mom didn't like talking about anything that could be negatively used against us.

"Te lo prometo, [I promise you,] Julia. I wouldn't be calling you if I wasn't worried." I felt Mom was probably biting on her thumbnail - a nervous tick she would have. I'm not sure what was being said, but I knew Mom had probably walked away as it got harder to hear what she responded with. 'Angela?' I thought; I dragged myself to the shower, turning it off before Dad complained about how much water I was wasting. However, after what I had just gone through, I knew he wouldn't mention it nor care as much.

My thoughts were still circling at the idea regarding Angela. 'Did Angela also get nightmares?' I thought. I never noticed her having any, let alone have I heard her wake up screaming. Unless she has, a pang of guilt slivered down my spine, but I've been too self-absorbed to notice. I stopped leaving the bathroom, my hand roaming over the doorknob. No, it's not possible. Angela was always the first to share her problems with me, no matter what. We've never kept secrets from each other.

I felt too emotional to think rationally about Angela's suffering and having nightmares like these popping up. "You're done." Mom seemed pleasantly surprised. I looked back at Mom's tired face, a pang of guilt that I had been so selfish to scream for her without thinking how she or Dad would react.

I swallowed the lump that was lodged in my throat. I wanted to cry again, but if I did, Mom or Dad would stay up all night to ensure I was okay before they went to bed or work. I nodded, allowing Mom to take me back to bed and tuck me into it. She laid over the covers, her arms still around me as she traced a floral design on my back. Angela and I would beg her to make the same designs when she put us to bed. It was a ritual that always comforted us to sleep. "Everything's going to be alright, mija [daughter]." She would whisper to me as the designs she'd make on my back, and her warm embrace lulled me back to sleep. I could only pray that I wouldn't dream of the vicious redhead nor the dead woman.

The following day was a nuisance. All I wanted to do was forget about last night's incident. But having Isaac constantly asked what had happened and Angela's sympathetic glances didn't ease the lingering fear I desperately tried to get rid of.

What made it worse was that Dad and Mom insisted I stay home for the day and rest, leaving my arms prickling with goosebumps at the thought. I did not want to stay at home alone. The image of the woman in the forest by herself, where she was caught and then killed, flashed quickly in my mind, warning me of the incident she had gone through. She was alone, and no one was there to witness her last moments. No one.

I pinched my arm to remind myself, "It was just a dream." I kept the mantra up. I constantly reminded myself that it was a dream and nothing more. Angela had decided to drive today, promising not to fumble with the keys this time, which I gave her a small smile — not caring if she accidentally played the alarm.

"Do yo-," She paused, contemplating on whether she should ask. I was already prepared for the questions that would ensue as we left the comfort of home. "Do you want to talk about it?" She finally mustered enough courage to ask. She shifted the gear to park before removing the keys from the ignition.

I didn't look at her. Mom's conversation reminded me that Angela may have gone through this, and if she has, this might bring up unwanted memories. I sighed, shrugging my shoulders before looking at our shared face.

"It was just a dream." I sounded robotic this time as if I'd been repeating the same thing over and over again. Which I had, but I wasn't going to let anyone know. Angela's face told me she didn't buy it but wouldn't ask more than what I was okay with sharing. I gave her a grateful smile in return before grabbing my backpack and leaving the car.

The cool air reminded me of what transpired last night, but I focused on Bella's Chevy, which was parked a few lanes closer to where we were. I definitely needed a distraction from Angela's glances to ensure I was okay. Luckily, Bella liked to isolate herself for her 'reading.' I snorted at the lame excuse she had given out a few mornings ago.

Bella looked up from the comfort of a book she was reading. "Morning," I greeted, leaning against her truck. She faintly smiled, "Everything okay?" She asked, scrutinizing me under her thick lashes that made her brown eyes seem to pop out more than usual. I shrugged, "Rough night," I murmured. A rough night was sugarcoating it; I still couldn't stop feeling the ghost pains of my throat being ripped out of me.

Bella nodded, closing her book and shoving it in her backpack. "I can relate," She said tiredly. I raised an eyebrow, surprised she was volunteering information. It wasn't like her. I felt a smudge of pride at the idea that Bella trusted me more than most of her 'friends.' I used the term loosely to describe Angela's friends who hung out with me because of my affiliation with her. "I keep having these weird dreams." She murmured, eyeing the few cars that were entering behind her. I'm guessing to keep an eye out for the Cullens. Sighing in defeat, she focused on me, pulling her backpack on. "Weird dreams?" I repeated.

I wanted to ask more - even though I knew the possibility would be slim - if she had a similar dream to mine. I opened my mouth to continue until I spotted the ever-so-clean silver Volvo over her shoulder — the conversation I was having with Bella — forgotten. I could see Edward driving slowly into the lot as one of his siblings - Rosalie, seemed annoyed with him as she kept on what looked like ranting. They were waiting for one of the vans to move before they could park their car in their usual location.

'So they do bicker.' It was a nice relief to see the normalcy of the family, as they always seemed to be pristine and too good to be true. It was unrealistic - in my eyes.

I noticed how upset Rosalie seemed, her eyes dark and menacing. Chills ripped through me, similar to the ones I had gotten last night. 'If looks could kill, Edward would be dead.' As if feeling my stare, Edward glanced my way, nodding as if agreeing with my thoughts. Before I could even elaborate on that thought, Edward drove off. Once their car was parked, I was able to maneuver Bella around to watch the silver Volvo in its parking spot. "Looks like Edward is back at school." She watched as he and his family got out of the car and into the school; Rosalie seemed less upset as one of the brothers rested his arm on her shoulder.

Bella blushed, making eye contact with Edward. Her gaze then turned back to me as she nudged me. Attempting her best to seem unfazed. "Hopefully, you can explain why he was mean to you before his absence," I mentioned.

Bella's flustered face was wiped clean, replaced with annoyance and stubbornness. She remembered her motive for speaking to Edward in the first place. She nodded, "I know exactly what I'm going to say." She seemed sure of it. I patted her shoulder before we made our way to class. "Don't let your nerves get the best of you," I advised as we separated in the hallway. She gave me a shy smile, waving bye, adding, "I'll keep you updated."

If I had any survival instinct, I should have avoided anything regarding the Cullens, but as the saying goes. Be careful what you wish for.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This is my first author's note, so please let me know what you think about translating Spanish to English. As a Spanish speaker, I forget that not many people would know what these small words/phrases mean. I also know that certain letters have accents, so please let me know if I need to correct anything. I appreciate it. Thank you to those who will comment/have commented and those who silently read the story. It means a lot.