Looking in the mirror, I saw nothing but golden curls. My mother had said I was lucky with my rare combination, but while living in Chicago all it gave me was unwanted attention from my peers.

Being the only blonde in my Junior class was something I didn’t expect when I had moved here from California. I had expected to be different, of course, but not this different. As well as being the only blonde, I was one of two white people in the class. If the stereotypes didn’t scare me enough, the gang signs I had identified did.

The hope of moving into a nice little town with my dad had shattered when he decided to write a novel based in this depressing city. His book was on the slums, so that’s where we resided. I tried to draw no attention to myself, but that was impossible. Everyone already knew about me, as my father had no problem in introducing himself to the neighbors.

I walked out of the class with a black backpack on my shoulders and my curls hid away in a bun on the top of my head. My jeans were comfortable and my blue floral blouse loose around my shoulders.

The walk to school wasn’t long, though I worried about a drive-by shooting every day my father was too busy to drive me.

I crossed an intersection, eying the few cars around, and noticed a sleek, copper van racing towards me.

I had no time to scream before the bullet hit me, and the only sensation I felt was pain.

I tried to open my eyes, but when I did they burning with multi-colored swirls spinning around. I heard inhuman screams and roars that could be from no Earthen animal.

My head hit the ground with a crack, but it didn’t hurt. In fact, nothing hurt anymore.

When I gathered the courage to open my eyes again, I had to squint against the light of two suns, one large and orange and the other small and blue. I realized that I was lying flat on my back, which meant that I had lost my backpack, but that realization was enough to shock me into a stupor.

I stayed there, long enough for my reality to sink in. Long enough for the suns to disappear from my vision. Long enough to think that I could be in extreme danger, just laying here.

I sat up, black dots blurring my vision for a moment. I looked around at the sea of red around me and thought for a moment that I had been sent to Hell, but then I realized that the red came from flowers. Miles and miles of red and magenta flowers all around me. Below me, strangely enough, the flowers sprang up like they had never been lain on. However, they were not red, they were white.

I stood up and noted that there was nothing in sight except for more flowers and the strange purple and red sunset that covered the sky.

I took a few steps and looked back, thinking that maybe my backpack would be lying beside me. However, all I saw were white flowers where I had stepped.

I tried to make my thoughts blank, because I knew if I pondered what was happening I would break down.

I knew this wasn’t a dream. There were themes with my dreams: They were in third person, I never felt anything-physically or mentally-and they were all nightmares.

I kept walking, occasionally looking back to see my white flowered footsteps. The night crept on with a purple moon in the sky to light my way. The flowers still stretched on endlessly.

Eventually I was too tired to walk. I laid myself down, looking at the moon that rose above me. I kept my mind quiet as I fell asleep.

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I awoke inside a building. The wood ceiling reminded me of a cabin my grandparents owned in the Rocky Mountains of Utah. I looked around, expecting to see my grandmother round the corner with a warm cookie and a glass of milk, but saw only unfamiliar furniture.

I sat up quickly. The only conclusion I could make was that I really had been dreaming before, and now I was in my kidnapper’s house. I shot out of the bed like a bullet and quietly tip-toed to the door. I briefly wondered why they would put me in a comfortable bed instead of a cellar, but that thought was diminished as the door widened in front of me.

My eyes widened and I backed up clumsily, crying out as my hip crashed against a desk and I fell to the floor.

The two people in front of me, one male and one female, did not seem startled by my actions. The girl, her straight black hair tied up, walked towards me and reached a calloused hand out.

I flinched, looking into her eyes. One was a pale grey while the other was so dark brown it looked black.

“Oh, come on girl, I ain’t got all day.” She talked in a strange accent as she rolled her eyes.

“W-where am I?” I stuttered, starting to freak myself out.

The girl dropped her hand and looked back at the male. They seemed to have a strange mental conversation, judging by their hand motions.

I looked back and forth between them, trying to guess what they were saying by their gestures and facial expressions, but I gathered nothing.

The girl sighed and looked back to me, hands on her hips. “Look, girl, you’re either going to come with us or you’re going to die, got it? Not much of a choice.”

I paled, raising myself up with the help of the desk I’d knocked against. “I’ll come with you.” My voice was quiet, almost strangled.

The girl smirked. “Good choice.” The boy remained expressionless.

I followed them out to a cart pulled by a two donkeys. I looked back to the house, something clicking into place. My mouth dropped open and I covered it with a quivering hand. Am I in the past? I wondered.

A strange feeling came. I froze in place. The house looked new, yet was built strangely. It looked as if someone had just stacked wood together as best as they could. The carriage wasn’t colorful, but more like a box made of splintery wood. The horses were connected to it using only frail rope. I turned to the girl.

“Please tell me where I am,” I pleaded with her, making the most scared expression I could possibly muster, and it wasn’t fake.

The girl looked me over, but it was not she who answered.

“You’re in Villia, the second biggest country in Calasia, and the most dangerous country in the history of this world.” His dark blue eyes shone with sympathy. “Look, I know you’re not from here, but we can’t explain much more until we’re in a safe place. It’s a miracle you weren’t killed in that glade.” He turned his back on me, leaving me staring at the back of his head. I noticed that his hair was silver. Earlier I had believed it was a light blonde, but in the strange sunlight it seemed to glow with a strange silver hue.

I clambered into the back of the wagon, being careful of my hand placement so as to not get a piece of wood stuck in them. The girl sat across from me. She was now carrying a crossbow, and I noticed a sword strapped to her back. The boy grabbed a belt full of knives and then climbed onto the front. With a shrill whistle, we were off.

I tried to keep my questioning self in the depths of my mind. I knew they probably wouldn’t answer anything I threw at them, so there was no point in trying. I crossed my legs and leaned forwards, resting my elbow on my knee and my face in my hand. I started to study the girl. She wore a tight-fitting black top and pants. The strap keeping the sword on her back was a dark grey. I guessed this was to keep her near invisible at night. Her dark chocolate skin added to my conclusion that she was the stealth operative of whatever mission they were completing with me.

I finally decided to ponder on the boy’s words. Villia, in Calasia. Was I not even in my world anymore, or was this just so far back that the names are different than they are in my time.

“You’re not on Earth.” the girl answered. I shot up, surprised as she continued. “You’re thinking really loud. I was trying to ignore you, but you’re questions just keep growing and I won’t be able to take it the entire ride home.”

I stared at her, mouth agape.

“Yes, I can read thoughts. My name is Dialia. You can call me Dia.”