Forever Dreaming of You Chapter One

A romantic peacefulness settled over the room where the girl slept silently, a large smile on her face. He was there that night. He being the one and only he in her dreams, heck, in her life even. This person, this boy of just 13 brought so much happiness to her life that sometimes she felt as if he was really real, and not just someone she dreamed up.
That night, the two of them were alone in the rose garden of the beautiful castle, the bright moon shining silver down on them, and the only sound was that of the wind in the cherry-blossom trees, and that of their bare feet padding on the cement.
He was the only thing that brought a smile to her face these days, unless of course it was forced, to please a teacher, or to accept an award at school. On the nights when he didn't come and sit with her in the courtyards, or walk with her in the rose garden, she felt so alone and afraid that she would rarely sleep the whole night through. If only he was a real person, then maybe she would have a chance at happiness. But he wasn't.
As she turned toward the East, towards the rising sun, she felt dismayed, for she realized that he now must leave. She looked back at him and he smiled, telling her not to worry, he would always be there for her when the night came. As he turned, and walked towards the sun, she whispered a farewell, and he disappeared, leaving her alone once again, to wake to a day filled with pain.
"RING!" went her alarm clock, right on time, if it wasn't a Saturday morning. Ugh, forgot to turn off my alarm clock again, she thought, mentally kicking herself. She reached over and lazily tried to turn it off, succeeding in only knocking it off of her bedside table. She sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, trying to ignore the sound of the clock that was getting louder and louder as the seconds ticked by. Finally, she could bare it no more, and put her foot out of bed and stomped on the clock, which made it stop the annoying racket, and probably smashed all of the inner workings of it, judging by the pain shooting through her foot.
Cursing loudly, she swung the other foot over the bed, making it land softly on top of her fluffy kitty slippers, slipping her feet into them. She limped into the bathroom, took a shower, and came back out, pulling out her outfit for the day. She chose a short khaki colored skirt, a white button up shirt, with a matching khaki colored vest, complete with white tights and black combat boots, a really weird look that was all her own.
She went back into the bathroom and brushed her now nearly dry long brown hair once more, trying, again, to make it do something, but it refused. She gave up, and went downstairs where no one else was awake. No one being her so-called father and whatever girlfriend he happened to have over that night.
She crept quietly past her father's bedroom, which was downstairs (She got the whole of upstairs to herself) and sneaked into the kitchen. She grabbed a Pippin apple on her way out; opened the backdoor from the kitchen, and closing it silently behind her. She smiled at the cool morning air that swept around her, and started on her way to the rose garden.
Every weekend she would go to the rose garden on Thompson Street, with it's many soothing fountains and luscious blooming roses, and just try to think where she had gone wrong, and what exactly she had done to deserve the pain she dealt with everyday.
She walked through the entrance, which was a huge arc of blooming roses, and at once was overwhelmed with the beauty and the smell of the roses. She heard the fountains whispering in the background. She loved the rose garden. She walked straight down the main path, which held mostly statues of beautiful angels and petite fairies. She bent down to look at her favorite statue, of two fairies, a man and a woman, holding each other protectively, gazing into each other's eyes. She smiled, and looked up, suddenly freezing. She couldn't believe what she saw.
A bird, whom had been very quiet, had just came to life and burst into song, singing with all it's might as a boy, whom she hadn't noticed, held out his hand. The boy had a far away look of sadness in his eyes, as though he had lived through many tragedies. His eyes were of a deep, deep blue, his hair a sandy blonde, cut about up to his chin' s length. He was the boy from her dreams.
She gasped, and almost fell backwards onto the statue as she realized this. She was so happy and so sad and so scared and so confused all at the same time. He suddenly looked up from the bird, which had come to rest on his hand, and it stopped singing as his gaze fell onto her. For a moment, he froze as well. Then she turned and ran from him, not willing to believe even for a moment that he really was him.
She ran all the way back the way she came, back to the safety of her home, or so she thought.
"Katherine Downing! You get your ass in here this instant!" came harsh yelling from the family room. She had forgotten to leave a note.