Chapter One: The Dreams

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Chapter One: The Dreams

All my life, I have had crazy, impossible dreams. In them, women go on adventures with young men. I get the strange feeling that they are all the same person, though, because the women mention adventures made by other women. The really crazy part is that sometimes I dream about someone that looks exactly like me going on adventures.

The dreams I have most often are with a man called Samuel, who the woman loved very much, and three other people. A red haired Scottish woman, her sandy haired, big nosed husband, and...

A man in a bowtie. I dream about him most every night, but I never remember his face. It's maddening, but I don't really know why it bothers me. After all, it's not like my dreams are about real people.

My name is Trellya Smith, and all my life I have had impossible dreams. But lately, it seems like some of my dreams are becoming reality.

***

It began about two weeks ago, when I was walking home from the grocery store. I was too cheap to buy a car, so I was walking on the sidewalks of San Francisco with a heavy bag of groceries on my arms. I started to get a weird prickly feeling on the back of my neck, so I began to keep with for anything odd.

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I noticed a man, dressed in ratty jeans and a black hoodie following me. I ignored it, adjusted the bag so it was more comfortable, and walked on.

But a few streets later, I noticed him again. Still the same distance away, still following. I was a little creeped out, but this was California. It would be better to not acknowledge him.

When I reached my apartment, I locked the door. I alway locked the door (again, California), but this was the first time I felt I really needed the protection of that bolt.

I saw him the next day to work, ad every other day since. I've started to think that I just hallucinate him, because no one else ever seems to notice. Whenever I have friends walk home with me, he still follows, but they never notice.

Then a couple days ago I saw something from one of my dreams, plain as day- a blue police box. When I got home I did research, and found that they were used London during the 50's, but were moved off the streets ages ago. Why would one be in San Francisco, CA?

But what really makes me thing that I'm losing it is that the box wasn't there the next morning. I checked in the exact same spot, but it was as though it had never even been there. Honestly, I'm growing worried about my mental health.

And then today I ran into a bowtie wearing man who claimed to know me. I was walking, watching my hooded stalker out of the corner of my eye, when I ran smack-dab into a man.

"I'm sorry, sir." I apologized. Glancing up and down at him, I noticed he wore a red bowtie, tweedy jacket, and braces, just like the man in my dreams whose face I could never remember.

When bowtie man saw my face, he blanched. "I- but- Trellya?"

Naturally, hearing a complete stranger know your name can be quite disconcerting. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"

The man's face went through an interesting series of expressions. Shock, disbelief, horror, confusion, worry, devastation. "You- you don't know who I am?"

"I've never seen you before in my life." I snapped coolly. He winced. I ignored him. "I mean, the only time I've even someone wear clothing something like that was in a dream." As soon as I said that, I hit myself mentally. Why did I just tell a complete stranger something I'd never even told my mother?

The man looked like someone had slapped him across the face. "A dream? Do you- do you have them often?"

"Every night."

He hesitated, then stick his ear on my chest, listening to my heartbeat. I gasped and smacked him, causing him to pull away. "Four..." He muttered. "But that impossible! Chameleon Arch-like symptoms, but a Time Lord body..." He trailed off, muttering about things I didn't understand.

"Listen, sir, I'm sure you're thinking about a different person. I'm just- I'm just me. Nothing special" then I walked off, humming a tune that I had always known, although I don't remember where I first heard it.

I heard the man gasp at the tune, but I ignored him. I continued walking, only pausing when he called my name. "Trellya!" He shouted. I turned slightly to show I was listening. "My name is Theta." I nodded slightly and kept walking, noticing that for once the black hooded man was not following me.

To my surprise, my stalker's absence bothered me more than the stranger who thought he knew me. If he wasn't with me, where could he be?

As I drew near my apartment, I found that I kept searching for the black hooded man. He had followed me for two weeks, why not now? Licking my lips, I forced myself to concentrate on getting out my apartment key. I ran up the stairs as usual, my nerves on edge.

As I drew near to my door, I closed my purse and fit the key into the hole. Just as I started turning it, I felt warm breath on the back of my neck. With a gasp, I whipped around to see my stalker. His hood was low enough I couldn't see his face, except for a creepy smile.

He took a step closer. I stepped back, hitting the door. My breathing quickened. I'm not going to hurt you, love." Said the man in a slightly raspy voice.

I whimpered as he reached out a hand to touch my cheek. "Still so beautiful, even after all this time." He muttered. Then his other hand reached out from behind him. It held a syringe. "I'm sorry." He whispered as he plunged it into my left arm.

I let out a tiny scream. My world swam before me, my legs fell out from under me. My stalker caught me, and (to my horror) kissed my forehead as I lost consciousness.

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