When I opened my eyes and regained consciousness, I found myself back in my room. Immediately, still thinking I was in danger, I sat up from my bed, only to fall back down onto it.

"Ow, ow, ow."

My head throbbed like crazy. The pain wasn't as so much from the outside as it was from in. It felt like was my head was going to burst from the inside out.

"What was that back there? A dream?"

It certainly didn't feel like one. Rather, it felt very real. I was sure that I had gotten shot. I mean, I felt the pain of it after all. I felt the terror from the situation as well. I placed my hand on my chest in an attempt to find the bullet wound that the robber's gun had laid on me. I couldn't find it. I exhaled in relief. I had never been so scared before in my life. The feeling of fearing for your life is not a pleasant one.

"Dream or not, I don't want to ever experience something like that ever again."

I hated feeling scared. It makes me sick to my stomach. I find it unbearable. So unbearable, that I shake at the very thought of it. My apartment was probably the only place I felt safe. And now thanks to that dream, I don't think I'll ever leave this place again.

Still feeling a bit light-headed, I groggily got out of my bed, stretched out my arms out as high as they can go, and yawned.

"Am I sick?"

My yawn sounded higher than usual, and by usual I mean low and sort of raspy. I didn't feel sick but if I was, that would have explained why my head was in pain. Obviously being cooped up into one place and not seeing sunlight over periods of several days isn't good for you. Getting sick wasn't too uncommon for me.

"Maybe it's just a headache."

I thought nothing of it. I mean, after all, anybody would get a headache after experiencing such a terrifying and vivid dream. I've had some crazy ones before, like me quitting gaming and going back to school. Sometimes I felt it difficult to tell if you're dreaming or not though I knew that one was a dream because I'd never, and I mean never quit playing my MMORPGs nor go back to the prison-like institution that the government calls school but nothing like the dream I've just awoken from.

Among those crazy dreams, I've had before includes one where I went home and my parents accepted the person I had become. Even my little, perfect brother told me that he still loved me and that he missed me. Of course, I knew that also wasn't real because I clearly remembered him calling me a "disgrace to the family" and that he told me that he wishes I was never born right before I moved out. Now that I think about it, he was pretty mean for a 13-year-old.

As I lazily started walking over to a nearby mirror, I noticed that I haven't stepped on any trash that always found itself scattered everywhere on the wooden floor of my apartment. I usually can't walk anywhere without stepping on an empty pretzel box or sinking my foot into a bottle cap, recoiling in pain, bumping into something, and eventually making an even bigger mess in my room which I don't even make an attempt to clean up because I know It'll just get dirty again.

When I arrived in front of the mirror, I didn't immediately look at my reflection. I never liked looking at myself ever since I changed my lifestyle. Every time I did, I would be reminded of the person I formerly was. Even though I stopped caring about my appearance, I still cared a little for what people thought of me whenever I went outside my apartment.

I rarely, rarely, and I mean rarely leave my safe place for reasons other than food or game merchandise. Though one day, I made an exception. On my brother's 14th birthday, my parents invited me to attend his birthday party, which was held in the family house. They must've not wanted to hear my voice because I was informed by it through a letter. I'm sure they didn't want me to come and only invited me out of a formality. I'm also sure my brother didn't want me to attend either. After all, who would want to show their friends an embarrassment of a sister like me?

Our parents must have not told him that they invited me because they thought I'd be too busy slaving my life away to a computer screen. And they were right. I almost didn't go. I literally had to drag myself away from my computer, put on some decent clothes, and force open the apartment door. It's been so long since I had visited home. On top of that, my mind at the time only consisted of three things: food, games, and sleep. Considering those factors, it's only reasonable that I'd forget the way home right? Totally not my fault. Right? And to top it all off, I wasn't very good with talking to people as well as I used to pre "neet". Long story short, it was a nightmare getting there.

But my troubles didn't end there.

My own brother, the person who is supposed to love me unconditionally through thick and thin, didn't even let me in the house. As soon as he saw my face through the glass window, he immediately put on a face of disgust and pretended I was a stranger. It took countless times of me ringing the doorbell only for this time, my mother to look out the window, see her lost daughter, and perfectly imitate the face her son put on when he first saw me. Instead of opening the door, she walked away. About two minutes later, she sent a text saying that my brother had his friends over and didn't want me in the house and that I could wait in the car, which was parked in the driveway. That kid was more than just a brat. He was a devil. Instead of doing what she told me, I simply went home, ordered Chinese, and finished up a quest in "Wizards of Sunrise". After that little incident, I vowed to myself to never go back to that place.

After getting over my insecurities about my appearance, I sighed and finally looked up at the mirror, only to see a reflection that wasn't mine.

"What the hell?"

No. It wasn't at all my reflection. Far from it. The rough, dirty, damaged black hair that seemed like it grew endlessly, had transformed into silky, flowing, pure white hair complemented by two small deep purple horns that rested on the top of my head, directly parallel above my now sharp, clean, black eyebrows. My once twenty-year-old face was now one of a teenager's.

"What the hell is this?!?" I sputtered in confusion out loud. For a split second, the introvert in me disappeared. I haven't raised my voice like that in years.

I leaned closer to the mirror and put my right hand on the glass and my reflection mirrored my action. I examined my eyes that were supposed to be dirt black but now were deep red, like rubies.

In disbelief, I staggered backward and fell on the floor. Instead of the usual creaky noise, the wood in my apartment made whenever I stepped on it, I heard a thud. I looked around and immediately understood why.

"This isn't my room!?"

I was so lightheaded when I woke up that I didn't notice the change in my environment. The rotten and worn-out wooden floor panels of my cheap apartment were replaced by light blue marble flooring that was patterned into a hexagon shape that stretched out across the entire room. The room was significantly bigger than my whole apartment. The ceiling was about 30 feet above me and was decorated with mural paintings of human-like creatures dressed in black with ram horns on their head. The walls that were supposed to be small and cramped were now separated in all four directions by a distance that I'd probably get tired of if I ran back and forth between them once. The door to the room was no exception. It was no longer a simple metal door. It was now double black doors that stood 15 feet tall and attached to it instead of doorknobs were black circular handles. Even the bed that I woke up in was different. Very different. It wasn't small and dirty anymore. No, it was grand. You could put three king-sized beds by each other it still wouldn't amount to the size of the bed that I awoke in. Hanging above either side of the bed were transparent black curtains that could cover the entire outskirts of the bed if you wanted it to.

"How did I not notice all of this?!"

I was feeling a little drowsy when I woke up but that was no excuse.

"Am I still dreaming?"

I quickly dismissed the thought. There's no way I was dreaming. Even in the most realistic dreams, you can sort of tell just by the atmosphere that it's not reality.

I was still trying to piece together what had happened to me when one of the huge doors of the room swung open.

"Princess Yukina!"

Still dazed and confused, I turned my head in the direction the voice was coming from, only to see something that was even more unbelievable. Standing in front of the door was a woman with long brown hair and black eyes wearing a maid outfit with a concerned look on her face. But that's not all. Attached to both sides of her head, rested two tan-colored ram horns that curled upwards.

"Is everything alright?" She asked as she advanced towards me. "The others and I heard a loud noise. Did you fall?" She grabbed my hand and helped me up from the floor and patted down the black gown that I didn't realize I was wearing.

Now here is where things got even weirder. I had never seen this lady in my entire life. However for some odd reason, as soon as I looked at her face, I immediately recognized her.

"Elvira"

The name popped into my mind. I put my hand to my temple in an attempt to calm down and question the situation.

"What's going on? And why did she call me Princess? And why did the name Elvira come to mind?"

I was still struggling to answer these questions when she suddenly took my hand.

"Now that you're awake, we've just finished preparing dinner. Come, the King is already in the dining hall."

She led me through the door and out the room.