My Twisted Fantasy (Dylan Ramon is BACK!)

Prologue

Andrea ------

Prologue

Nights are always my favorite part of the day, not only because I get to enjoy the comforts of my-oh-so-lovely bed. A bed full of dreams, love and thousand dollars of fluff, all to make me a happy woman. Or at least I thought, recently those nights of sleeping under the starry nights in my hotel room have been lost. All because of my horror dreams, much like the ones you wake up sweating, screaming and kicking until your fiancé has to wake you up. Yes, those have been my nights. I wish I can say the prescription they give me is any good, but all they're good at is numbing my brain and making me feel nauseous.

"Andrea?" the woman looked at me puzzled as she twirled a pen between her fingers. ".. where did you go just then." she leaned in with enough curiosity to make me wonder how long I had been dazed.

"What?" I mumbled under my breath as I threw back a puzzled look.

"I asked you if you felt fortunate to have conquered all you have, and then you went quiet, why?"

"Ms. Laura, being my therapist and everything. I would think you would pay a little more attention to strict details. Maybe, like how I love to zone out at times..." Okay that was a total lie, but the look she was giving me was if I saw into the future or something. Bottom line, it was creepy.

"Andrea, the therapy only works if you participate."

"I have! For two years now, and this routine is getting a little old and redundant, don't you think? I have an amazing life, with an amazing soon be husband. I'm going to give a seminar in New York in a few days, and my dreams are coming true. Now, can we speed up this session and give me the drugs so I can sleep like a normal person."

"Congratulations on the opportunity, but the seriousness of your condition isn't something I can just give pills for and wish you a great day. We were so close yesterday, and we have definitely made progress. I just don't think I can sign for you to go to New York."

"That is a bunch of bull!! You, therapist's just want my money so you say all fancy shemansy cases to keep me up in this place, I mean do I look psychotic to all of you? It's a dissociative amnesia disorder not dissociative fugue."

"Yes, I understand the state of your condition Andrea, I just need you to stay in London for just a few more weeks so that we can properly address your problem before you travel anywhere..."

"Why are you doing this to me?" She looked a little taken back by my statement.

"What am I doing to you Andrea?" her voice was calm and words almost too selective.

"For one, keeping me from going to New York." I pouted in my seat crossing my hands for emphasis.

"Andrea, I can sign all the papers in the world, but that doesn't make you better I hope you realize that."

"I have an Oxford degree, I'm pretty sure I realize." she gave a long sigh eyeing me extensively.

"Andrea, I'll sign the papers if you answer one more question..."

"Fine, yes, anything." I beamed pulling myself up from the red couch in the corner of the room.

"Who is Dylan Ramon?" everything in me sunk, and I went absolutely blank. Searching my mind for an answer to that question was a lot harder than it was supposed to be. Why the hell was she asking me that? I swear this lady was making her question her certification for this job countlessly. I drew a puzzled look as I searched for an answer, but it was all unfolding to be even more confusing than just a moment ago.

"Is that name supposed to mean something to me?" I asked her sincerely.

"I don't know, I need you to tell me if it does?"

"I've never heard that name before." I looked at her questionably as she wrote a few things down on her board, and the silent response she was giving me was not too settling either. "Is that another grey box?" I asked sheepishly, knowing that my memory of certain past things had been fuzzy lately. According to Laura it's like a grey box in my mind waiting to be opened, but it was definitely not my priority at the moment. I will truly lose it if that question becomes the reason I can't go to New York, because it's yet another problem in the grey box.

"Andrea, I think this trip might be good for you, but when you come back we'll pick up from where we left off." she clicked her pen against the board with an assuring look,

"Most definitely." A brilliant smile overtook my face like nothing else.

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