I know, I know. I've done this before, but I wasn't originally planning on taking Shadowland down, I swear. I was rereading it the other night and noticed a bunch of mistakes, so I took it down for editing purposes. I mostly just fixed spelling and punctuation mistakes, but I did change around some word and phrase usage too. Nothing major. Hopefully I caught them all, but if not, hey - I'm only human. Maybe I'll get some new readers out of this? Old readers who feel the need to revist Shadowland? Whatever the case may be, enjoy. -jnl94

Before

It's funny how you can live somewhere your whole life and still be considered an outsider. Never mind the fact that you were born and raised in the same town as all of your classmates, teachers, and neighbors, you will never be considered one of them. It's funny how people decide if you belong based on your ancestors and family tree and not on you personally. It's funny how the times change, but the people really don't.

They talk about the DuVille family. They always have. You know it's bad when it gets to the point when the family that everyone talks about could really give a flying rats ass and can tell any newcomer who happens to be unfortunate enough to be sucked into the little itty bitty town exactly what everyone says about them even though it's supposed to be some big gigantic secret. You know, the whispers get hushed when the DuVille's walk by—especially the youngest and most 'vulnerable' Antoinette DuVille.

Except Antoinette DuVille is far from vulnerable and the whispers start right back up again as soon as their backs are turned. However, what the lovely folks of Oakridge don't seem to understand, is that just because the backs are turned, doesn't mean the words are not understandable. Either that or they just don't care.

Antoinette DuVille was leaning toward the latter.

In a relatively small town where everyone knows everyone and there are no secrets, everyone is expected to be like everyone else. Everyone claims to be different, but they are exactly the same; all close-minded and shallow as a puddle. Oakridge wasn't a complicated place, it really wasn't; it was just Oakridge. The neighbors all sat around on their asses being lazy and sipping homemade lemonade secretly laced with their alcoholic beverage of choice or downing hot chocolate by the gallon. It seemed that Oakridge never had any middle ground. It was either hotter than hell or frigid beyond belief.

But they wouldn't give up that seat on their porch for anything. Sitting on the front porch in a town like Oakridge was the equivalent of having the best seat in the theater. It was where you could see all the action and report to the other parents if there was a need.

But there was no point because nothing ever changed. Why did that not bother anyone but Antoinette DuVille?

Before the hell that the proper folks of Oakridge called high school even started, everyone already knew everything that was going to happen, anything that bore any semblance of importance, anyway—where they would sit at lunch and with whom, who they would talk to and snub, the jokes that would be told and those that would be deemed funny this year, the girls and the boys that would be dated, and who would get the best parking space in the student lot.

They already knew who they would talk about—it's not like it was ever any different. Everyone already knew what teachers to hate and which teachers to suck up to. They knew who was going to be the "bad" boy and they knew who was going to be prom queen. Hell, they probably already knew who was going to get knocked up and which ones were going to keep the baby.

There were no surprises in Oakridge.

At least, that was true of all the "normal" people of Oakridge. Antoinette DuVille knew that there were many secrets in Oakridge. Secrets that no one could ever imagine beyond their safe little houses and their shallow little minds; it was just the way things were in her life. She wondered if anyone would care when she stopped coming to school, if they would even come to her funeral pretending to care. People would certainly notice all right, because it was something that just didn't happen. Antoinette never missed school

She had a perfect attendance record just to spite those who talked about her. Everyone waited eagerly for the day when Antoinette DuVille just gave up and stopped going to school.

She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. If she stopped going to school then they won. And she wasn't one to go down without a fight.

Oh yes, the little town of Oakridge was not what it seemed to be on the surface. Ever seen the movie Silent Hill? It was kind of like that, only the nightmare was everyday life for Annie. There was the Oakridge that everyone knew—the living hell—where the biggest news was who broke up with whom, school dances were the most important night in a girl's life—especially if it was homecoming or prom—every girl aspired to get married at a young age and have lots of babies and the worst thing that could happen was your parents embarrassed you in front of the cutest boy or girl in school.

And then there was the real Oakridge that hardly anyone knew about, where magic was an everyday thing, the most important day in anyone's life was their Unbinding, every girl aspired to live, and the worst thing that could happen was your magic could kill you, and girls like Antoinette DuVille grew up knowing that they were going to die Senior Year—which was only tragic in the news to the Mortals. To everyone else, to the Casters of Oakridge, it was sad, but it was fate.

There was the inevitable.

There was a boy who lived in another dimension.

There was a girl who was doomed from the day she was born.

There was a love that said to hell with everyone else.

And that's all that really matters.

But life went on in plain old Oakridge, because they really had no idea, and probably didn't much care anyhow.