Chapter 1: A Disturbing Dream Taylor roamed the large, almost vacant room as he tried to remember how he got there. He made a silent prayer for someone to come and help him. How he longed for someone to comfort him and reassure him that everything would be fine. He was feeling so alone.
His prayers were answered as the door slowly creaked open. It seemed as though the room had not been used for a while, which would explain the rusty door hinges and cobwebs lurking in shadowy corners. Taylor leaned forward, trying to make out the figure walking towards him with his blurry eyes.
"Taylor," she whispered. Her voice sounded like music, light and airy. He could not help but admire her breathtaking beauty. She was about 5'3" in height, and rather slender. Her long black hair hung freely down to the middle of her back. Perhaps what intrigued him the most was her eyes. They were a pale shade of blue, as fair as a summer day's sky. They sparkled as she waited for Taylor to respond.
"Yes?" he replied. He looked at her, trying to recall the face. There was something familiar about her, but he didn't quite know what it was.
"Taylor." she spoke again, this time hissing his name. Chills ran down his spine. "You don't remember me, do you?"
"No, I'm afraid I don't. Maybe you have me confused with someone else." he said uneasily.
"Oh, no. I'm positive I have the right Taylor," the strange girl hesitated. "Maybe it is best you don't remember me."
"What do you mean?" he asked, trying not to show his nervousness, although his voice squeaked as he spoke.
She tenderly grabbed a lock of her hair and innocently twirled it around her finger. "What you do not know cannot hurt you. . . yet..."
Taylor shot up out of his bed as a bead of sweat steadily ran down his forehead. Down his cheek. Down to his lips. He could taste the saltiness."What you do not know cannot hurt you. . . yet..." The phrase echoed in his head. What was it that made them so creepy? Well the words themselves were a bit strange, but there was something else. The tone of her voice was puzzling. He tried to remember his dream in more detail but all he came up with were ambiguous bits and pieces; fragments that just didn't fit together correctly.
His head pounded and he paused to recollect his thoughts. He hadn't realized how hard he had been thinking until he acquired a splitting headache to account for it.
"It was only a dream. I should stop worrying. Only superficial girl magazines and crazy people analyze their dreams. I'm not crazy, there's nothing to worry about." he reassured himself.
He reached over to his night stand and grasped a glass of warm water he had brought to his room the previous night. He gulped down every last drop, not realizing how thirsty he had been.
He let out a small burp and leaned back against his bed, feeling much better than he had a few minutes ago. Now he was positive it was only a silly dream, but deep down, there was a nagging feeling, one that he couldn't place, but strong enough that he couldn't let go of it, trying to warn him that things could be more dangerous than he thought.