Life Is But A Dream

Prologue

I'm just about to start talking to him, when alarm bells start to go off in my stomach. I can feel something's wrong and there's nothing I can do about it standing here.

"I... I... Shit!" My brain isn't focused on forming words. It's focused on getting the hell out of there and running home, where I'm sensing the danger. Before I can even start running for the door, I drop the books and notebooks I had in my arms. I don't care, they'll end up in the office. Or my friend's will grab them.

Some guy decides now's the perfect time to bend down to tie his shoe, so I jump over him and ram the school doors open. Everyone's staring at me, it doesn't matter, I'm an outcast. Just breathing is apparently enough to warrant stares. I barely glance at my friends as I throw my book bag to one of them and continue running for the forest that edges our school. When I reach the forest, I almost double over from the pain and anguish I hear in one solitary howl. I need to get home now.

I pull myself together just enough to make it a few feet further into the dark forest before my wolf, Cadence, takes over and I transform. I relish in the sense of power, fueled by my anger and urgency. It's not long before I make it to my house, two miles away, and as soon I get to the edge of my property, I stop to sniff the air trying to detect my family's scent. I catch a small trace before I feel a presence suddenly behind me. Cadence is in full control now and she lets out a low, warning growl to the mysterious presence.

The figure that steps out from the tree line, is one I never would've expected that close to me in an eternity. It's full of power and authority, and I instantly feel the urge to submit. But I'm not backing down, and neither is Cadence, from protecting my family, even from a lycan. Whether he's there to harm or to help, I have yet to figure out, but instead of waiting to find out, I dart towards my house. When I reach the front, there's scratches and small drops of blood, which I can clearly see in the waning sunlight in the open doorway.

I take a few hesitant steps forward to sniff the scent of the blood, and I'm relieved to find it's not from my family. It's someone I've never smelt before, but they attacked my family and I don't need to meet them to want to rip them apart.

One moment I'm sniffing the air and floor for any traces of familiars throughout the room, and then the next, I'm being attacked. I don't know how long it lasts for but all I see is a red fury of claws flying wildly and razor sharp jaws snapping erratically, connecting with faces, necks and backs but only really catching and ripping out fur.

Then there's nothing, nothing but darkness. I hear nothing, I smell...nothing, all I feel is the rise and fall of my chest with every breath. I don't know how long I'm like this, but when I open my eyes, it's morning and I'm laying somewhere unfamiliar.

I slowly and tenderly pull myself up into a sitting position. I've got bruises all over my body, some worse than others. A few cuts and scratches. I don't remember anything that happened after school for a few minutes, before it all comes rushing back to me.

The feeling of loneliness, isolation, and worry are enough to make me clutch my stomach and put a hand over my mouth to either keep myself from emptying my stomach or screaming, since I still don't know where I am. The way I'm feeling is only intensified because of Cadence's restlessness and feeling of need to go searching for them. She was quiet until I remembered.

I take a deep breath to try and calm myself, but it's not until what feels like an hour later that I find I'm calm enough to look around. What I see around me, confuses and excites me at the same time. I've always had an interest with dark interior design.

I'm apparently in someone's office on a couch, from the way everything's decorated.
There's what looks like an expensive, thick, mahogany desk sitting in the middle of the room facing a large, ceiling-to-floor window. The window itself is covered in thick, blood red drapes and sheer curtains that are only letting some of the morning light in. The couch I'm on, isn't a couch at all. It's a black suede chaise lounge with ruby red decorative pillows on it. Both walls, on either side of the desk, are floor-to-ceiling book cases, filled with thousands of books, most covered in what looks like dust.
     And it's not until I look to the other wall, furthest from me, where a small hidden door I hadn't noticed opens, that I freeze and my breath catches in my throat.