Isla sat up, her body recoiling at nothing. She glanced over at her sleeping sister, her diminutive body breathing up and down. Slowly, Isla slipped out of bed, her voice rasping steadily. She walked towards her walk-in wardrobe and cautiously knelt down at the camouflaged trap door. She lifted it up and slid down the steep stairs, opened the door and arrived at the side of her house. Walking towards the gate to her backyard, she slinked across the grass and latched the gate open- the one that connected Isla’s backyard to the park.
After that, she jumped right into the gate again, as she was now standing in the park; she threw herself forward, her energy into the gate.
Anyone who saw this sight would wince, thinking that this crazy girl would hurt her head against the gate. But then they’d be having second thoughts- because then, the girl disappeared… and didn’t hurt her head at all.
Isla stood up, breathing in the aroma of “real” fresh air, she thought. The girl was standing just outside of a forest. She parted drooping leaves, only to come to an old ramshackle cottage. She opened the back door and stepped inside, calling, “Annalita? Annalita!”
The interiors of the cottage were a big surprise to people who hadn’t seen it before. Instead of ancient mats and rocking chairs, inside was a blown-up mansion; the type a celebrity would live in.
Just then, a girl, obviously Annalita, came in. She had long cascading blond hair and glistening blue eyes. “Hi Isla,” she smiled, “I was wondering when you would come.”
Isla smiled wearily back at her runaway friend. Both girls had discovered this place many years ago- Annalita because she had ran away from home, and Isla because she had accidentally toppled backwards into the gate, only to find herself sprawled on the forest ground.
“Yes.” Isla spoke softly. “I’m ready for my treatment.”
“What? What treatment? I wasn’t going to give you a treatment!” Annalita was confused- it showed in her eyes.
“Not that you know of.” Isla grinned suddenly.
And it wasn’t a pleasant grin.
But Annalita was undeterred. She narrowed her pretty little eyes at her best friend, Isla Rose. Why would she lie to her? Annalita definitely couldn’t recall herself telling Isla anything about a treatment. What treatment?
As it happened, Isla Rose Walker didn’t know herself.
Isla was definitely under some kind of spell- Annalita was sure of that by now. Leaving the living room in a huff, she walked to her bedroom and shut herself in it, trusting Crazy Isla not to do anything to her cottage- or, rather, mansion. As she passed her door she spotted her name, in glittered lettering, on it. Isla and her had painted it when they were smaller, about eleven years old. Annalita Rosa Hyna. That was her name. The name she took such pride of. The name that she adored and loved. The name so unlike her old one. Her ex-name. Beeartilla Escanna Maritta Watson. Annalita still shuddered when she thought about it. Her old life. This was where she had made her life now. A better life. A new life, with new surroundings and a new friend.
Meanwhile, Isla was wondering just what on earth she had done. Exactly- what treatment? There was no treatment. And yet Isla couldn’t remember why she had said it. To annoy Anna? She was her best friend! Why would she do that to her? Isla could honestly not remember.
She slumped onto the couch. Now she had gone and scared Anna off. Flicking through the channels on television (there were five hundred, mind you), she suddenly spotted, on the news (Imagine One-O-One 3000), the exact replica of Annalita; an older version, perhaps. Suddenly, a thought flittered into her mind. Was that Annalita’s mother? “Anna! Anna!” She banged on Annalita’s door, the door that brought back great memories. “An–na!” No reply, just sulking silence. “Anna!” Isla cried, now desperate- and also dying of curiosity. “Anna, Anna, okay, okay, I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me! Would you just please come right now? I think- I think- I think it’s your mum!”
After this remark, the door slowly opened. “Where?” The sullen face’s mouth said.
“Come, come! On our favourite news anchor program, Imagine One-O-One 3000!”
Annalita’s mouth slowly shaped out into a little o. She gasped and ran into the lounge room. Seeing the beautiful-enough-to-be-a-model woman, she cried, “Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. It can’t be her. It just can’t!”
The woman on Imagine One-O-One 3000 was being interviewed. She had recently been in a movie called Imagine: 30 People. Astral Travlin’. Then Isla realised just who she was.
“Anya- Anya- ANYA WATSON?” Isla screeched. “She’s your mother?” Why hadn’t Anna told her? Isla talked about Anya Watson every day without fail. And Annalita had never failed to never tell her that Anya Watson- actress, author, fashion designer, singer and model- were her own best friend’s mother? Sure, Anna’s last name was Watson, but then there were definitely more people than two with the name Watson in this world- including Emma Watson. So why hadn’t Anna told her?
Annalita stood there, obviously trying to avoid crossing dangerous paths with Isla. She glued her eyes to the television screen, all the while thinking, Please don’t kill me, I wanted to forget my old life- how could I have told you? and slouched onto her favourite couch/bed, ignoring Isla’s rages.
Isla stormed into her bedroom, the one that was the room she preferred- and not her “home” one. Isla widely considered this place to be her home, settled with her best friend. She looked up at the photos of Anna and her on her bedroom walls. Anyone even remotely stupid would have picked up, straight away, that Annalita was much more good-looking than her.
Annalita Rosa Hyna had blonde wavy hair. She was thirteen years old, like Isla, but in this particular photo she was twelve. Isla had stolen a camera from “home” to take this. Anna’s sparkly blue eyes glimmered and she put everyone into a spell if they ever met her, which no one had for two years except for Isla, since she had run away from home. She looked great in any outfit- Isla betted even in a beggar’s outfit that she would look good. She was model-fit, the perfect model, but since she had run away all her dreams in the real world had long gone since then. Now she had accepted that she was going to spend the rest of her life in this beautiful secret place- give or take. And Isla seriously admired her for it. Isla agreed as well, but had too many strong dreams for her future to run away from home too.
Isla Rose Walker had naturally different colours all splashed into her straight, slightly wavy hair. Her hair was brown, black, blonde, white and even maroon- she had two friends in the “real” world’s proof to say that. The marron was probably inherited from her mother, who also had marron hair, but more reddish. Isla wore glasses, which most people thought looked better on her than without, and her lips were always dry, no matter what. Her eyes were a quite boring brown- nothing much to see there. Her mother’s favourite part of her body was her broad shoulders, because “it makes you look tall and good in anything”- and also her thick hair. She had many dreams and sneaked out every night to spend time with Annalita. In this world, the one they called Fantasised, night in the real world was day and vice versa. They must have been replaying the interview on the late night program in the real world.
The cottage had already been here, as if somebody had lived here before, when Anna had stumbled across this place, accidentally tripping over a stone while in her hurry to get away from home.
Isla had already determined her future. She was going to university (she wasn’t sure of which one yet) to study a three-year acting course. She would then, before trying to score a job in the showbiz business, go on a holiday with all her friends in the real world. After doing a few gigs in the acting world she would start her own fashion line called Imagine, and then study for writing.
In the midst of all this she would get married, have two children and write her autobiography.
Tearing her eyes, and thoughts, away from the photo and memories, Isla walked into the living room again, where the interview was over and Anna was staring at the screen (which was now filled with blood and guts= horror movie), her eyes unregistering what was happening, lost in thinking.
Isla sighed, thinking of the adventures she and Anna had had together. And now look. Another girl, Rosa, placid and tame.
Isla wondered what was going to happen now.
