A/N: This was a creative writing essay I wrote… 2 years ago. I forget exactly when I wrote the older things. Anyway, I lost the copy I had originally written for marks, and found a photocopy of one of the first drafts I'd written of it (I was mindblown by its primitiveness, really) and I've cleaned it up a little (ok, a lot. It was TERRIBLE). I still remember the names I had used, Jasmine and Nico (said Ni-koo), and only because I was debating the name I wanted to give my male character with a friend and eventually she told me to use Nico because I had a crush on a guy by that name at the timeX3. Anyway, it made for a pleasant memory. The draft still had question marks where names went, and that's kind where this A/N is coming from. I also thought to have a random attacker in this draftXD It was a really stupid idea, honestly, but it evolved to what you read here now (yes, I actually had it like this in the essay for marks. Sort of, this one is longer with more detail. And a mother of an A/N). Also, and lastly, the world I mention in this story is a world I later decided to build on, so it's technically not the same place. But, this is a little (*cough*a lot*cough*) beside the point. It should be a fairly short one, and a review is always very appreciated:) Lotsa love, my readers.

The Dreamer

I had always loved dreaming, whether I was drifting off through the chores I needed to do, or those half-forgotten dreams that come when your head touches the pillow. I'd always dreamt of leaving this place, this world and living in some fantastical place forever. Hmm. Little did I know, that soon that little hope, that little dream would become reality.

"Jasmine! Awake!" I started, my eyes flaring open. The housemistress's warted, long and fat face leered several inches above my own. Her foul breath and yellow, rotted teeth made me sick. I struggled not to recoil, or flinch. She turned abruptly, and I hesitatingly got up to help the others in the orphanage clear out the constantly filthy and half-decayed bunks and dorms, barely easing the ever-present smell of human waste and death. I was almost used to it by now: almost sixteen years in this place helps soften the blow.

The day started as usual, really; clean your own bunk, the area around it, then help clear up the area, and the older tenants, like myself, would neaten empty bunks and clear those whose occupants had 'moved on'. Someone always died during the night from something, be it natural or induced. I didn't blame them, but I could hope. I hoped for a better world, a chance to right the wrongs done to me. After all the unpleasant business, and quickly hushing the cries of friends or still-soft souls, we headed to breakfast. It was a stale bread, and soup, which could only be described as coloured and stale water. Aside from being rationed, no-one ever ate much because of the food. There was as much a chance of getting sick from eating it as not eating anything at all. Midday, though, was the time of day I looked forwards to after other chores and the occasional class, if the housemistress felt especially kind. Midday we were allowed outside – although only for a precious two hours – and it was this time in the clean, fresh outdoors I cherished. I would have left that dank hole if I had known where to go, and if I could have found a way to survive. I had no friends, and was perfectly content without them. Once there had been another, but she hadn't kept hope the way I had, hadn't been as strong as I had become. Now she wasn't here, and the pain of loss wasn't something I wanted to feel ever again.

Once I was outside in the sweetest, purest fresh air, I walked towards the woods, which surrounded the property. We were far out, probably to discourage escape. A short walk in was a creek, with a large boulder next to it that I loved to sit on, and just listen to the sounds around me, the bubbling and chuckling of the creek, the rustle and whisper of the wind in the leaves, and the chirping of crickets, singing birds… it was so perfect here. Here I could dream of being anywhere, anyone, at any time in the world – any world, really – so long as I wasn't in the orphanage behind me, I could care less where. The boulder was covered in moss, which made it comfortable to sit on, but slippery to climb. I realized my mistake when I ran up it, not reaching up to the handholds first. I was on the creek side, where the moss was wettest, and my foot slipped. I barely had time to gasp in surprise as my head struck a rock, and I was out cold.

I knew something was amiss before I opened my eyes. I felt clean, pure; a sensation I felt maybe once a month if I was lucky, perhaps twice if a couple came looking to adopt. But I was too old: an almost-eighteen-year-old girl made for trouble. "She wakes," a stage-whispered voice said. My eyes fluttered open, as I slowly, carefully pushed myself upright. Tall, white marble columns supported a smooth crystal dome of a ceiling. The floor was made of deep jade hues. I wore a loose, white dress, the whitest I had ever seen, and the bed I now sat in had azure silk linens. I touched the material gingerly, as though it might disappear. I had long ago forgotten about the voice. I could barely take in all the colours, the cleanness and brightness of it all. I turned my head around, and finally saw, seated in a chair by my bedside, a young elven boy, perhaps my age. He was nothing like the fairy tales, a light and airy mischief-maker with wings, but more human. The only thing that gave away he wasn't human was his stillness, the magic he seemed to emanate and the gently pointed ears, more leaf-shaped than the classic, long pointed ears. He was beautiful with his dark, curly hair and hazel eyes, and his light honey-coloured skin. He smiled gently at me, and I suddenly felt very aware of my paler skin, my autumn red-and-gold hair, and light green eyes. "I am Nico. I will wait for you outside. My sisters will come in with clothes for you," his smile broadened, and he tried not to laugh. "Good luck with them." Nico rose in a single, fluid motion, and left. I was left a little awestruck, and I slowly stood up from the soft bed. If this is what one room looked like, what did the rest of this place look like? I wandered over to each object, looking at each trinket and gently running my fingers over everything. I wanted to touch and feel everything I saw. Everything. I heard the door open, and two girls came in. They looked the same as Nico, but one had slightly green-tinted skin, with emerald eyes and the other slightly blue-tinted skin with sapphire eyes. They were equally breath-taking. They each had an array of dresses with them, and we went through all the dresses, the jewellery and shoes until I came across one dress I particularly liked. I nodded, smiling.

I walked outside in a dark green, satin, one-shoulder dress that reached my knees, with black sandals. Nico turned when he saw me, and held out his hand. I took it, and he showed me this place he called home, a world he called Altvaïr.

Years passed almost like days, and never once did I think back to the orphanage, or the housemistress, or what had happened. Here is where I wanted to be, and Nico, his sisters and many other beings from this world and I had become close friends, especially Nico and I. The world I had left behind felt like a bad dream. I hadn't aged a day, and I had learnt all I could, reading and writing and singing and doing things I had only dreamed of before. I remember looking into Nico's eyes as we lay in a daisy field one afternoon, right before I fell asleep. My body vanished, along with the reality I had come to accept as my own.

I woke up in a hospital. Later I was told I had been comatose for almost three years after I had fallen at the creek. One of the girls at the orphanage had come looking for me, and found me in the creek apparently. There was no-one at my bedside, and my friends were gone. I cried silently for days on end, often crying myself to sleep over the loss of Altvaïr. I woke up one morning, almost hoping I was back. But tears threatened to build, and I bit my lip to try and stop them from coming as I rolled my head over to the left.

Slumped in a chair, fast asleep, was Nico….