The sound of the alarm clock jarred her awake, tearing her free from the dream she had been having. What a strange dream. It felt so real. She could have sworn she was in some other place as well. Never before had a dream seemed so lucid. It wasn't foggy like dreams she had before, and the events weren't escaping her despite her attempts to grasp at the details. Her hand finally pressed the snooze button in her attempts to quell the loud noises and rest for just a little bit longer.

Emlyn's body felt like it was dripping with perspiration, and prickled from the cold feeling of the fan blowing over her all at the same time. Her heart pounded against her rib cage. She really felt like she could use a shower. She could still feel the blood on her body, warm and sticky. It felt so real even though it had been like an out of body experience. The body of the dead girl didn't look like her though. The girl who had died was much younger with different facial features. A rounder face with a pug nose. Why did she think that girl was her? The smell of blood seemed to fill her nostrils still. It made her feel sick. Emlyn had never been able to stomach the sight or smell of blood, and feeling it made her feel queasy and lightheaded as well. She needed a shower.

Her inability to fall asleep caused her to move to a sitting position ,and she felt something leap up onto the queen sized bed. The ebony great dane sprawled across her lap and she let out an exasperated sigh. “The alarm is not your cue to join me.” Rather than deal with fighting the mutt, she reached for the journal next to the alarm clock and jotted down everything she could remember from her dream. It still seemed peculiar to her that she could recall it with such clarity.

“Crow,” she spoke with a lilt to her voice. The dog raised his head and regarded her with a curious look. “Want to go outside?” She queried. The dog needed no further motive to crawl off her and dart out of the door to her bedroom. Emlyn made her way out of her bed, dropping the journal into her bag on her way. After she had made her way down the hallway, she entered the area where her kitchen and living room were separated by the counter of her kitchen. The tiled floor of the kitchen and carpeted floor of the living room also helped differentiate between the two places.

Crow pranced around impatiently in front of the door to the backyard as she cut through the living room to the kitchen, and slid the panel from the dog door out. The great dane pushed his way through the flap before she was able to remove it completely.

Emlyn didn't linger in the kitchen for long. She made her way into the bathroom to continue with her morning ritual. She typically showered after work because her job caused her to get dirty, but she had enough time for a quick one. She hastily brushed her hair and teeth. On a typical morning, she brushed her teeth after she ate. However, she was in more of a hurry after deciding to shower. The coffee maker was turned on while she took the time to spread some cream cheese onto a bagel, wrapping it in a paper towel and retrieving her cup of coffee. She slid the panel back into place on the dog door and called for Crow to follow her into the garage, opening the passenger door of the faded blue pick up truck. The dog eagerly made his way into the seat and she moved in front of the vehicle to seat herself at the wheel, tossing her bag and tool belt into the back seat.

~*~*~*~*~

Russel parked his vehicle in front of the cafe. His transportation of choice was a red sports car. As if the Jaguar didn't draw attention to itself already, the color made it stand out even more. Then again, Rush had always enjoyed drawing unnecessary amounts of attention to himself. At a mere twenty two years of age, he frequently gave the impression that he came from a family with money where everything was handed to him and those he interacted with were quick to predict that he didn't have to work for a thing.

The way he was dressed served less as a status symbol than his car. Instead of a tailored suit, he adorned a simple pair of jeans with a white t-shirt and a leather jacket. His hair made his skin look near alabaster, but he had never tanned well. Raven hued hair was slicked back. He had often been told he looked like a greaser from some movie, [i]The Outsiders[/i] if he remembered correctly. He had read the novel once, but he had never seen the film. Despite his choices in wardrobe, he had a boyish face with viridian pools and a mouth that was prone to incessant grinning and smirking. Probably not a face inclined for games such as Poker, or so he had been told.

He breached six feet by a mere two inches. Average height, he assumed. His build was anything short of intimidating. Thin limbed and wiry, he was left with little musculature to utilize to his advantage in the event of a fight.

He entered the establishment, and seated himself at the counter. He checked his phone briefly and made his order when one of the employees greeted him. He spoke with an accent that was distinctly European, Welsh to be precise. A younger girl approached him, setting an apple steamer before him. It was hot drink not unlike apple cider, but with caramel stirred into it and topped with a generous amount of whipped cream.

“The danish is on it's way,” she informed him.

Rush figured the girl was either a drop out, or fresh out of high school. She looked younger. She didn't manage to hold his interest for long because he began looking around the cafe as though he were expecting someone to arrive at any moment.

~*~*~*~*~

Juliana seated herself on a bench in front of the high school, taking her time with entering the building. It was supposed to be her first day. Most of the students ignored her. They probably thought she was in a different grade or something. It was probably impossible to remember every face. She preferred that. Her sepia hair was cropped short into a chin length bob and side swept bangs that were clipped out of the way by a barrette that had a cerulean bow attached to the clip. She adorned a simple ivory dress shirt under a cardigan that matched the accessory in her hair. Cerulean dress pants were paired with white heels and a crossbody drew color from her shoes and shirt. The purse was slung across her shoulder. The blue tones in her clothing drew attention to the azure spheres set in a khaki pigmented visage.

A fuschia backpack rested beside her on the bench, disrupting the color scheme. It would be shoved in a locker momentarily though.

Juliana rose to stand. The heels boosted her height by two inches, causing her to reach about five and a half feet. Her shoes clicked against the tiled floors when she stepped into the building and she placed her the backpack into her locker before heading to the office.

The secretary glanced up towards her when she opened the door. An older woman, probably about mid thirties. She had sorrel hair pinned into a bun at the top of her head. Juliana couldn't tell how long it was. Black rimmed, oval shaped glasses were perched on a long, thin nose. The woman's features were thin and gaunt with a ruddy complexion. A simple skirt suit and black pumps were adorned. 

“Can I help you?” The older woman queried, although her tone conveyed that she didn't really want to assist a student at all.

“I transferred to this school recently,” Juliana spoke. Her words were pronounced in a way that suggested English was not her primary language.

The secretary rose to her feet. She was perhaps three inches taller, but her heels were an inch shorter than Juliana's.

“Do you have your schedule?” The secretary spoke. She sounded impatient. Maybe it was just her natural way of speaking, or maybe she just didn't like interacting with students much. Although her words made the younger girl curious about what the secretary was doing working at a school if that was the case.

“I have it, but there's no room number,” Juliana replied.

“Follow me,” the secretary commanded as she guided the new student down the hallway to her first classroom. She opened the door, “Your new student.” She walked away quickly, leaving the girl behind to enter the classroom by herself.

She glanced over the students. She was probably supposed to give a brief introduction, she supposed.

“My name is Juliana, I'm from Brazil.” Short and simple. “I'll find my own seat if you don't mind,” she informed the teacher, taking an empty seat towards the back of the classroom.