The flutter of my eyelids opening awakens me... except that I am already awake.

Huh... that doesn't make too much sense...

Whatever.

The first thing I do is look at the sky. It's pretty... actually, not really. The neon pink clouds have formed a swirl filled with colours as it blends casually into the rainbow sky. The trees beside me are now purple. They were red before, but now they're purple. I can't explain why, they just are.

My gaze switches to the grass I'm laying on. It's soft and light, almost marshmallowy.

"Hello?" I call out, as if someone is watching me. But for the first time in a while, I feel actually alone. Maybe someone isn't watching me after all.

Yay!

Then, to burst my bubble, I hear laughing. It sounds quite like the first time this incident occurred, but it's different. This time the voice is deeper. Actually, no. It isn't deep. It's distorted. It doesn't sound like it could escape from a human's lips. And it's too loud to be coming from a person.

My eyes dart around the area surrounding me, but they pick up no sign of an object capable of laughing. Where is the laughing coming from? Why is it haunting me?

Then I see it—a tree moves. It's the tree. It's laughing at me. Why is it laughing at me? Is there something on my face? Can they see through my mask? Can they see my scars?

I quickly bring my arm up and use it to shield my face from the trees, but the laughs only grow louder.

"What?" I scream. All of the trees begin to shake, their hands pointing at me as if they're mocking my every move.

The laughter begins to ring in my ears, and it becomes the only thing my weak body is capable of focussing on.

"Stop!" More laughter. It sounds as though a video of one thousand people laughing has been distorted, only with the occasional high pitched laughter that sounded like a hyena.

I feel a wet substance fall down my face, and I look down, though it doesn't do a good job hiding all parts of me that I wish to be private. The parts of me I wish to be concealed. The parts of me I wish to be unseen. The parts of me I wish to be invisible. The parts of me I wish weren't there.

Hah! What am I saying? I wish I wasn't here at all.

But I don't feel here. I feel somewhere else. I feel like I'm spectating my own life. I feel like I'm reading a book in third person. And it doesn't feel pleasant at all.

"Go away!" I yell at the trees, who are nudging one another, whispering what I assume are slurs about me.

"She looks like she's on drugs," one of the trees—the tallest one—says, the loud joke causing the rest of the group to bark a synchronized laugh. The laugh echoes in my mind, and my hands shove themselves against my skull, warning the words to disappear.

But they don't. They never do. The words stay there. Forever. Each and every horrible word said to me has stayed engraved into my mind, and I can never get it to leave, no matter how much I plead.

When I lift my head, looking back at the trees, they've swirled together, conjoining as one large chunk of purple wood. Their laughs fade into screaming. Some high, some low, but all haunting.

"Shut up," I whisper, squeezing my hands over my ears as the volume of the screeches gains rapidly. The screeching sounds like something from your worst nightmare. It sounds like what would come from those shadows that appear behind your doors. It sounds like what would come from the monsters beneath your bed.

Do they listen to my request? No. Nobody does.

"Shut up," I repeat, my hands tightening against my ears, causing them to numb. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!"

They stop. Somehow, they stop. For some reason, they have listened to my request, and have stopped their horrific screeching. And now they're quiet.

Hesitantly, I let my grip loosen, and my hands slowly fall to my side. I glance up, and the purple trees are no longer intertwined. They are standing normalling, but they are covered with shadows.

I hate shadows.

The shadows look at me, their faces judging mine.

"Who are you?" I whisper sharply, though they don't answer. They just stare at me intensely, as if marking every little detail of my appearance. "What do you want from me? Why can't you leave me alone?"

My gaze flies across the line of shadows, and none of them seem to be paying attention to my urgent questions. Then, like the trees, they turn to one another and start whispering, striking slight glances in my direction. Luckily, they don't laugh.

"Why is her hair so long?" one of the shadows asks.

The shadow beside it says, "I don't know, but why is she so tall? I didn't think five year olds were supposed to be that big."

Pausing the other shadow's conversations, the tallest shadow abrubtly puts its hand up. As expected, the gesture silences the others surrounding it.

I force my body up, and try my best to stand straight, although I do wobble. "Who are you?" I try to speak steadily, but my voice comes up shaky.

The tall shadow steps forward, and I seem to recognize the figure. It almost reminds me of my mother, and the way she stood wonky and drunk. The shadow is looking down at me, her expression obvious though I can't make out how.

Right when I'm about to repeat my earlier question, the shadow speaks. "Whitley."

My name catches me off guard, but I manage to slowly nod.

"Wake up."

My blood runs cold as a shiver crawls down my spine. A layer of goosebumps form on my skin, and my body shakes as I say, "What?"

"Wake up," the shadow repeats, and it's easy to tell who the voice belongs to. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

I squeeze my eyes shut for a few seconds before letting them pop back open. Nothing happened.

"Wake up!" the shadow said again, but this time she yelled it.

I repeat the action of closing my eyes as tight as I can before they open again, wide and alert. Like before, nothing happens.

"Try one last time, Whitley, just wake up!"

I nod, trying again. This time, when my eyes open, the sounds around me disappear. And I'm no longer on the island. I'm lying on the ground beside my mother, pain surging through my body, which seems to be the size of a five year old's.

My mother is next to me, caressing me as she speaks slowly, telling me it'll be alright.

I'm about to ask what happened when I look down and I see the gunshot wound.

And then, suddenly, it all clicks.

None of it was real.