My eyes flutter opens connecting with the familiar sticker glittering star my dad put on my ceiling. I used have trouble sleeping when I first came to live and he put them there to make me fall asleep quickly. It worked. Anytime I couldn't sleep I would stare at them until I imagine myself floating with the stars and eventually I fall asleep.

I turn my head to look at time, it's ten o'clock. Not surprised that I'm just waking up, I'm a heavy sleeper, the house can be burning and I would still sleep through the whole experience. It's Sunday and I prefer to sleep in on weekends. My parents allow me because they do the same thing. Having a late breakfast on weekends is something I've grown to accept.

Rolling out of bed, I take a seat on the edge of my bed and drop my feet on the cool wooden floor. My eyes roams around my untidy room, my clothes littered everywhere. A sigh escapes me. When am I going to create time to arrange it?

I get up from the bed and go inside my bathroom. I stand in front of the sink, my eyes connects with my reflection in the mirror. Turning on the tap, I put my hands under the running water to get some and bend my body before washing my face with the water. I wipe my face with the camisole I'm putting on and watch myself in the mirror again.

Something flashes inside the mirror behind me. I gasp and turn around to look but nothing is there. I shrug and walk away from the mirror to my cabinet to get my brush. Taking the time to brush my teeth before going to take my bath.

I return to my room and pick out my outfit for the day: baggy sweater dress. Pulling my hair up in a messy bun before heading downstairs. The sound of the television playing brings a smile to my face. My parents are awake. Making my way to the living room, I see mom at the kitchen entrance.

"Morning mom," I greet her with a big smile on my face. I don't think I've ever been more happier to see her.

She turns, a warm smile appears on her face when she sees me. "Good morning honey, did you sleep well?" She asks.

I nod. "Like a baby."

"Cami, is that you?" Dad's voice calls from the living room.

"I'll be right back," I tell mom before heading to the living room to see dad sitting on the three-seater, his leg propped on the coffee table. His eyes are glued on the TV, watching some sport channel.

I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his neck. "Morning dad," I say and press a kiss on his cheek.

He laughs at the gesture because I don't normally behave like this but I don't know I feeling happy today and I want to show my parents how much I love and appreciate them.

"Good morning my love. How did you sleep?" He asks as he takes me in his arms.

"Great. You?"

"Your mother and I slept great, thank you for asking." He answers.

"Are you hungry? I want to go see what mom's making." I say.

He releases me. "Sure honey."

I get up and head back to the kitchen. Mom is standing on her toe, reaching inside the top cabinet to grab some bowl. My eyes drop on the ingredients she has laid out on the counter.

"What are you making?" I ask curiously. I'm in the mood for some pancakes and English breakfast.

"Pancakes," she answers while trying to grab the bowl. "There's freshly squeezed orange juice in the fridge, pour yourself some."

"Thanks. Do you need help?"

"No thanks, I've got it." She answers as she gives up trying to grab the bowl, she should have just asked Dad for help. She turns away from cabinet to the counter and begin to sort of out the ingredients. I sit opposite her on the island stool and watch her. "What do you have plan for today? I was thinking we could go to the mall together."

Oh, the mall sounds great.

"Actually I was thinking about hanging with Jessica and the guys but shopping sounds way fun." I reply.

Mom nods as she breaks the egg inside the flour. "We haven't seen Jessica around. Is she still upset about what I said about the hair? I was just angry at you. You can invite her to join."

"Really?"

She nods. "Yeah, I want to apologise and get to know my daughter's best friend." She sounds sincere.

"Okay, I'll–" I stop when I see something flash before my eyes, it's like a tear in space and reality, revealing some kind of darkness beside my mom. It happens so quick that I can't make out what it is.

"Camille? Camille." Mom waves the wooden spatula in my face, bringing me back from my thought.

"Huh?" I blink, looking beside her where I just saw the flash.

"Are you okay? You kind of spaced out."

"Hmm. Yeah, no." I remove my phone from the pocket of my dress. "I'll ask."

I unlock my phone and click on the messaging app, her contact is the first I see. I send her a quick text.

Me: Hey. You free to hang out today?

Her reply comes immediately.

Jess: No, sorry. I have something planned with Nate.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I press the lock button and face my mom. "Sorry, she's spending the day with her boyfriend."

My mom's eye widen in surprise. "Oh, she's dating, who?" She asks curiously.

It's my turn to be surprised because I've never known my mom to be curious about anything especially about my friends, the one she clearly doesn't approve. I like this version of her and I hope it sticks.

"Nate."

"Do I know him?"

Doubt it.

"No but he's British." I don't know why I added the last part.

"Wow, like your boyfriend, you girls are going out of your way here."

Out of our–

The sound of our doorbell rings. I wonder who that might be.

"No, I wouldn't call my boyfriend British." I mean he never really told me where he's from but I know he's never been to the UK.

"He's got the accent honey." She says and frown when the doorbell rings again. Dad's probably too engrossed in what he's watching that he's ignoring the doorbell. "Richard would you get the door, please!" Mom shouts from the kitchen for him to here.

"Yeah but he's never been to UK." I reply to her claim of my boyfriend being British.

"Really? I find that hard to believe."

"Yea–"

"Camille, Damian's here to see you." Dad calls from the living room.

"Damian?" I say in surprise. We don't have any plans today.

"Yes, Damian. She's in the kitchen." I hear him say to Damian.

Mom smirks and begins to mix the batter while I wait impatiently for him to come to me.

"Morning Mrs. Stark. Morning babe." His scent fills the room before he enters, and that alone is enough to make my heart skip. I don't want to look at him with my mom around, so I watch him approach me through my lashes.

"Good morning, Damian..."

*****

"Where are you taking me?" I ask as we walk out of my house.

"Where do you want to go?" He asks, looking over his shoulder.

I shrug. "Surprise me."

"How about we just drive around for a while? I figured you could use some time to think things through." He says and head towards his Jeep.

I chuckle and ask, "what do I need to think about?"

He stops beside his Jeep and give me a look. "What do you mean? You told me yesterday you're about making some changes in your life and I asked what you want to change and you replied with you'll have to think about them."

I frown. "I don't remember having that kind of conversation, infact I–" I stop to think about what he's talking about.

Yesterday night. What did I do yesterday night? No, wait, what did I do yesterday? I can't remember. Why can't I remember.

"Cami, are you all right?" I hear Damian ask.

I frown. "Since when do you call me Cami?" I shake my head and whip my head around to stare at our house. The house.

What did I do yesterday? What did I do yesterday?

"Babe, you okay? you're going pale."

I look at Damian, staring at him really hard. When did we start dating? I can't remember anything about our relationship. Not the first date or first kiss. Who asked whom out? What is going on? This can't be happening, unless–

"This isn't real." I whisper.

The world around me begins to crack, break like I'm standing, surrounded by mirrors and those mirrors are breaking. "What is...what is happening?" I turn around and see Damian cracking along with everything else. "No. No, no, no, no. This isn't real." I close my eyes and begin to say out loud, maybe everything will go back to normal. "This isn't real."

"No, Camille, it's not real." An unfamiliar voice answers.

I open my eyes and notice nothing around me. Everything is gone like it was never there. It's like I'm standing in space except with no stars and solar system. I face front and my eyes connects with a very familiar ones. I know those eyes. They've been plaguing me since I first saw them in my dreams.

"You!" I take a step, careful not to fall because I don't know what's below. I keep walking until I stop in front of him. "I know you."

He cocks his eyebrows, looking surprised. "You do?"

"You're the man that always appearing in my dream. You and that man with the cane." I accuse. It's hard to forget the man that set your ablaze in your dream.

He smirks, which only increases my heartbeat and then he talks, "Correct, Camille, but you know those aren't just dreams. They are recreation of your first memory."

Recreation of my first memory? Does that mean from when I was born someone tried to set me on fire?

"What do you mean?" I need to be sure.

"What I mean is, the memory happened but not to you." He replies.

That just made the list of my unanswered questions. Who did it happen to? I want to ask but I need to know who he is first since he knows all about me and all.

"Who are you?"

"Who I am doesn't matter since I'm just passing through."

"You are in my dream, tell me who you are." I demand.

"I'm no one."

I glare at that annoying answer. "Yeah? And I can't count how many time you've set me on fire. If what you said is true that those dreams are actually a recreation of my first memory, it means you were there, you had something to do with the fire. So answer me, who are you?"

"I'm the dream collector and I haven't collected any of your dream because it's the same, no fun and I find it quite sad."

"Dream collector?"

"Yeah, why do you think some people don't remember their dreams when they wake up?"

"Because you stole it." I accuse, not sure why I believe him.

"Not steal. I collect them."

I cross my arms over my chest and say, "I'm sorry but collecting something that isn't yours without permission is stealing."

"You're never this witty and bold in your nightmare. Always crying for help, tell me did you regret not saving that baby." He taunts and I take the bait.

"Fuck you!" I growl.

"You couldn't have saved it even if you tried." He tells me and it's not exactly what I need to hear at the moment.

"Shut up!"

"This isn't a dream, Camille."

"I figured because I wouldn't be wasting my time talking to a phantom menace." I fire at him.

He chuckles and places his hand on his chest, faking hurt. "You wound me."

"Where is this?" I ask, waving my hands around.

"You were in a fight?"

I left a nice version of Damian before the world crack and I came here. Here, I remember everything that happened before.

"No but some weird ladies in cloak tried to kill me." I tell him, remembering the sisters in the dark.

"Sisters of the dark."

"Yeah, that's what the headmaster call them. What are they?"

"They're messenger spirit that you can summon anytime and they will do whatever you tell them to."

"Just like that?"

He shakes his head. "No, it's a two way thing, they give you something and you give them something in return."

"What did they have to do with me?"

"Whoever that's in control of them needs something from you."

I raise my eyebrows in question. "What do you mean?"

"The sister messed with your mind and in doing so they created a playground in your gapped memory, and left you to pick everything else. Where you were before here was fake but you created the life based on the space they left in your head and as you enjoy your happy time, they get whatever it is they want from you."

"Do you know what they want?" I ask, not having the time to think about what he said.

He shakes his head. "No."

"Will I remember this when I wake up?"

"Oh, Camille, you are already awake." He says.

"What?"

I feel someone bump into me. My eyes shot open and I notice that I'm standing in the middle of the school cafeteria in my pajamas.

"Are you okay?" Someone ask.

I look around and shake my head. "I–i don't know."

I need to see the headmaster. I think I'm going crazy.