A young woman sat at her desk, writing on her laptop.

For years I had fought to be normal. I didn't want to be different, but I am. No matter how much I deny it, I am different. My world is that of fiction; wolves, witches, fairies, vampires. All should be fictional in a normal world. They aren't, given as they are as real as the crawling ant to the flying bee. I pushed and ran, escaping the world I grew into.

Little known fact, you can never escape destiny.

She smiled as she hit the save button and closed the program. A large hand settled onto her shoulder making her look into the eyes of her lover.

"Come to bed my rose." She nodded and followed him, her future and her love.

"If we shadows have offended,

Known but this and all is mended,

That you have but slumber'd here

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idel theme,

No more yielding, but a dream..."

-William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream