The girl was sitting in the treetop, overlooking the canal. She wasn’t alone, however, a boy was with her. They were talking, laughing. He stood up and did something silly and they laughed, but he slipped, and slid towards the edge of the tree branch.

“Argh!” he cried, and she grabbed his arm tight and didn’t dare let go. Carefully, she hoisted him up back. He breathed loudly and heavily. You could hear him gasping from the street below. “Jesus…” she sounded bewildered as well. They both sat and stared at the canal’s murky water for a minute before saying anything other than ‘Jesus’. “… seriously… you’re a life-saver…” he gasped. She laughed. “Well, I wasn’t just going to watch you tumble over the edge like that!” She looked him in the eyes.

Or, that’s what would have happened if she was faster.

I sit up, breathing heavily. That dream again. It’s simply a repeat of what had happened a month ago. It’s as though my life is on repeat, I have that dream so often. I can’t take it anymore.

I’ve always been an outcast, And it never bothered me. Normal people don’t care to see What’s always been clear to me.

I do my own thing, Write my own rules. I don’t believe in lies Told by average fools

It didn’t just dawn upon me that I was different from the rest When I lay down my head one day to go to sleep and rest

I’m not one To easily give in to lies Told for everyone around me Who has cloudy eyes

I wake on an itchy hay bed. I try to recall how I got here, but my memory seems far away. I sit up, wince, and stumble toward the door of the small room. I pull open the door forcefully. It’s beyond creaking. It squeals, much like a rodent, but amplified. I enter the odd hallway. I can tell from the smell alone that there is a pub below. A house wife in medieval-sort clothing gives me a look like I’m a despicable stranger of some sort and dusty her apron. ‘If anyone’s a weirdo it’s you,’ I want to say. I continue down the rustic wooden staircase. I freeze at the sight at the bottom. Everybody in the bar - well, it’s more like a tavern, really - is in the same medieval clothing as the woman up the stairs. I run outside and splash myself with the water in the stream. I’m not dreaming. My mind floods and I suddenly remember why I’m here.