• It’s a dream I’ve had a million times before so I know it’s a dream. This tower is familiar, I visit it every night and I know what’s going to happen. The tight rope’s way too thin. My feet slip, I start to fall, fall. In a futile attempt to stop I reach out and grab at the blue and white china that adorns the walls around me. But I keep on falling, falling now with shards of blue to keep me company. I’ve been falling forever, I swear. Then black. I’m awake, as usual. I roll over and push my head back into my pillow, moaning “sleep”. It’s dark and dreary, the rain outside is seeping through the cracks; the TV’s flickering in the background. Groggily, shakily I stand up. Bottles crunch under my feet, stumbling to the bathroom. There’s a pine tree growing out of the bath, up through the roof. A line of dolls are propped up against the windows. Staring, staring. WHERE AM I? “Jenny, Jenny, Jennnn-eeeeeee. Where are you? I want to see you, please? I promise I’ll be nice.” WHO IS THAT? And who’s Jenny? And WHERE AM I? I’m starting to get a little scared; it’s so dark outside, and cold and rainy. I think I’m alone here, except for the screaming man. Where did Tommy go? WHERE AM I? So, I walk out of the house, down the road, on my way. To somewhere. The rain is cold. Dark trees line the streets; a single streetlight shines in the distance. I can just about make out the skater up ahead. He’s coming closer. “Hi” I mutter as he comes to a stop in front of me. “Hey Jenny.” “Who’s Jenny?” “Don’t you know? YOUR’E Jenny.” “No, no, NO. I’m not. I’m me.” “And who exactly is that?” “Me. I’m ME! Girl, sixteen. Going Somewhere” “Are you sure? Jenny? Where are you going?” “I don’t know, I’m not sure. Somewhere! Ok? Who are YOU? Just go away, leave me alone!” “Can’t you see, it’s me, I’m you, Jenny. And you’re not going anywhere” “You’re not me, you can’t be. I’m me, and I’m not Jenny! Prove it, show me!” The skater takes off their hood. It isn’t a he, it’s me, or I think it is. She looks like me. Same hair, same eyes, even the same freckle near my mouth. But there’s something a little wrong with this picture. What, I couldn’t say. And who is Jenny anyway? She sure as hell isn’t me. This is scary. This isn’t real. Is it? Please, no, it can’t be. I turn around and start running, back to that house, with the pine tree in the bathroom. The broken bottles next to my bed. Behind me, I hear the sound of wheels. And the road is falling beneath me. Falling, falling. She’s coming. I can hear her. The sound of wheels, the ragged breathing. Then black. I’m awake. Again.

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