Summer was the time for sweet dreams, but my dreams had been anything but sweet. I thought the nightmares would come and go, but they stay etched in my mind, making each night as restless as the next.

After an episode, I would have jolted up from beneath the safety of my warm comforter, breathing heavily as my heart pounded in my chest like an earthquake threatening to erupt any given moment. Beads of sweat always found its way across my forehead as the salty drops marked their invasion in my eyes, darkening my hair as the perspiration made its way south. Only this time, it was different.

There was a searing pain that shot up the side of my forearm, giving off a gnawing sensation that seemed to escalate every passing moment.

"It was just a bad dream, Erin. It was just a dream, " I chanted, pulling myself into a sitting position on the four-poster bed.

I liked to believe it was true.

As I felt the breeze brushed lightly against my skin, my eyes averted to the open window with an attempt to succumb to the summer's serenity,. Birds of blue and red hues whistled their morning melody, and milky clouds traveled amongst themselves along the vast clear sky, providing a very welcome distraction.

As the sleeves of my shirt rode up once my fingers met in a stretching motion, my eyes noticed the one thing that destroyed all hope of what I wished was a dream.

Right where a clear area of skin should be, was a mark engraved as deeply as a bottomless ocean, a skull with vivid amethyst eyes.

I couldn't exactly recall when the nightmares started happening, but lately they've been more erratic than usual, and longer than expected. No matter how I tried to stop it, there was no way I could avert the scenes that swarmed around in my head. They always consisted of snippets of conversations between two people; a blonde man with his back turned, and a woman with a cloak draped around her as if she was swallowed by darkness itself, a woman with the same intense amethyst eyes as the mark branded on the arm before me.

A knock suddenly disrupted my thoughts, so I rolled down my sleeves and quickly laid down on the bed and closed my eyes, hoping the noise would go away.

"Erin, wake up," a little voice whispered clamorously, as I felt the proximity of their breath tickling my ears.

"It's already eight, hurry up and go down and eat breakfast," the said voice continued.

"Go away Erik, can't you tell I'm still sleeping? I just started closing my eyes five seconds ago, so just leave me be," I half-lied, burying my head under the feathery pillows.

He grabbed the pillow and glared at me with his electric blue eyes, the one physical quality that we both inherited from our mom's side of the family. "Now you listen here, sister. You better get out of bed right now and go downstairs before mom yells at me, or else..."

"Or else, what? Are you going to glare at me some more?" I retorted.

A cheeky grin started forming on his lips. "I didn't want to do this, Erin, but you leave me no choice."

I started closing my eyes. "What can a runt like you do to-"

Less than a second later, I was soaked from head to toe in immensely frigid water. The icy sensation had trickled down my face in excruciating slow drops, my eyes as murderous as a killer in the night.

"What on earth is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how cold that is?" I asked, glowering.

"Hey, I did warn you. But just to let you know, there will be a round two if you don't ge-" he started before something caught his attention. He then stared curiously at the minuscule object on the floor next to the bedside table, completely mesmerized.

"...Erin, where did that block of ice come from?"

I followed his gaze and my anger momentarily dispersed as my eyes fixated on what appeared to be an oval-shaped piece of ice. "I have absolutely no idea. Didn't you just splash me with water? I don't remember seeing any ice."

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "That's because there weren't any ice..."

As we stared at each other in disbelief, Erik' eyes started widening into giant saucers.

He then jumped up and down, thumping noisily against the wooden floor. "Maybe you're a superhero, Erin!"

I snorted. "Oh please, you and our fourth grade fantasies. Are you implying I'm the female version of Frozone? That I can freeze water or something?"

"Now you're talking sense," he said, snapping his fingers.

"And you won't be regaining your senses if you don't get out of my room right this instant. Going once, going twice..." I smiled sweetly.

"Alright, calm your horses, I'm leaving. By the way, no one called you downstairs, I just wanted an excuse to soak you in water," he admitted, laughing while he flaunted out the room.

I groaned, but grudgingly got up. "I needed to talk to them anyways, you brat,"I mumbled to his retreating back as I headed towards the bathroom, leaving behind the piece of ice in my wake as it melted into nothingness.

As I went through the agonizing process of blow-drying my dark ebony hair, my phone vibrated. Of course, it was just another text from Verizon, telling me how much I spent in the past few months.

I decided to wear a long-sleeved shirt in order to hide the mark, in case onlookers mistaken it for a degrading tattoo. I hoped my parents had an idea on how to get rid of it, or more importantly, the meaning behind its sudden appearance.

After making sure everything is ready, I dashed down the beige-carpeted stairs.

"Erin, is that you? Can you grab the newspaper out front since you're by the door, anyways?" my dad called out from the kitchen.

"Sure, I got it," I responded, before opening the front door.

I quickly shielded my eyes as they made contact with the sun's flaming beams, and in a flash, grabbed the newspaper roll on the front steps, and slammed the door with a bang.

Our colonial-styled house was fairly moderate-sized, located in the historic city of Alexandria, Virginia. It wasn't exactly the best looking house on the street, with its simplistic white-colored body and steel gray roofs, yet it was homely, and that was all that matters.

My parents' reason was that it was convenient, since one of the best public high schools in the state is located right in my school district, the school which I'm going to be spending my fourth consecutive year at, after the summer: the notorious Greek Hall. Strange that it was called Greek, when it was anything but Greek. I admit, it was the best school academically-wised, but socially...not so much. I have survived throughout my high school years with only a few interactions; my best friend, Ara.

My mom sometimes chided me for not making more friends, but how could I, when I had to go to this disgusting school, which was full of narcissistic girls who bully others for their pure enjoyment?

Apart from Ara, there was not one single person that I liked there, not even teachers whom I always looked up to during my middle school years. However, as time passed, we both grew up, and naturally so did our thoughts and feelings. Ara and I both started off as friends through the desire of a strong companionship, but that goal soon drifted apart as our friendship fell apart. We haven't been spending a lot of time together lately, and I still considered her as a person I deeply cherished, but I convinced myself that sometimes it was better to just let things be.

As the tantalizing aroma of eggs and bacon whiffed through the air, my stomach rumbled thunderously, clearly falling into the temptation behind its smell.

"Morning," I greeted, giving my dad a kiss on the cheek and handing him the Sunday's newspaper.

He suddenly gestured for me to come closer and whispered, "I think you ought to feed that thing, Erin; that sounded quite dangerous, if you ask me."

I blushed once I realized what he was referring to. "You actually heard my stomach's cry of pain?" I joked.

He put on his reading glasses, his eyes twinkling humorously. "I think everyone in the whole state of Virginia heard that."

"Oh hush, Josh. Stop teasing the poor child. Here sweetie, take a plate," my mom called from the kitchen, nodding at the breakfast plate on the counter.

Once I grabbed an apple along the way, I positioned myself across from my father, watching as he brought the coffee mug to his mouth, his eyes the perfect epitome of exhaustion.

My dad worked as a businessman of a large company up in the city, whereas my mom worked as an elementary school teacher in the same school that Lucas currently attended. Growing up, they never really shared details regarding their early lives, such as where they went to high school, or even college, but we never bothered to pry. Sometimes I do wonder why they chose to not tell us, but every time I asked, they would always change the subject. Always.

After taking a bite out of the apple, I licked my lips as I savored the sweet taste of the fruit. After wiping my mouth, I told them, "Mom, dad, I need to talk to you guys about something-- something really strange, so don't freak out."

"Well, what is it?" he inquired as my mom sat next to me.

"I'm not exactly sure what it means, nor if it's just my mind playing tricks on me, but look," I said as I rolled up the sleeves to show them the mark.

My mom gasped and shared a look with my dad, who scrunched his eyes in concern. "Is this what I think it is?"

He then gently rubbed the outline of the skull, slightly nodding his head. "I believe so, Kristi."

I glanced at them curiously. "Believe what? Do you know what it is?"

In response, he swiftly stood up and headed to the sink. "We need to leave to your grandparents right away. I believe you've been branded."

"What grandparents? I thought they're all dead."

"You'll see. Just follow us, and don't ask any questions until we're there, alright?" he said sternly, but softened up once he saw the incredulous expression across my face.

My dad was never exactly one to use such authority in his tone, but once he did, I knew better than to disobey his orders.

As my mom put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, she added, "I'm sorry, sweetie, just trust us on this, okay? We're just as confused as you are, and this is the only way to get some clarification."

I sighed deeply. "Well, I have no idea as to what is going on right now, but since I'm already dressed, where exactly are we going?"

"Meet me in the attic in five minutes with your mom, and don't ask any more questions. You'll know once we get there," was my dad's response as he rushed up the stairs.

I turned to my mom, but before I could ask say anything, she was already rapidly dialing on her phone. "Hello there, Mrs. Matheson. Yes, good morning to you too. I hate to impose this of you, but are you free right now?"

Mrs. Matheson was our family's babysitter. She used to babysit me when I was little, then gradually moved on to Lucas as my tantrums stopped and his began. She was an elderly yet jovial woman who had a bit too much time on her hands, which was perhaps why she decided to take on the position of babysitting. My parents found it quite convenient, especially since she lived only a few houses away.

"Really, that's great! Would you mind coming over and watching Lucas for the day, then? We have to run some urgent errands with our daughter, and we need someone to watch him," she continued.

A few static sounds could be heard coming from the other line before my mom finally hung up, turning to me. "Let's head up to the attic. I think it's time you see who you truly are."

Once we pushed open the dusty-webbed door that led to the attic, the first thing I noticed was the abundance amount of dusk. Everywhere I looked, I saw dust. A sniff was all it took to put me into a coughing state.

"I know attics are typically messy, but why is this room so dusty? At this rate, I'm going to get sick faster than the victims of the Black Plaque when it spread through Europe!" I said, pinching my nose.

"Oh hush, drama queen. A little dust won't kill anyone."

Before I could respond, the door opened and in came my father, dressed as if he was nominated to win an Oscars.

I stifled a laugh. "Dad, what on earth are you wearing?"

"You're not the only one meeting your grandparents for the first time; I'm meeting my parents for the first time too, in nearly two decades; I have to at least look somewhat presentable."

I cocked my head. "What? We're meeting your parents? Since when?"

"Since now. Kristi, can you pull back the curtains please?"

"How should I know, when you never tell us anything about your childhood?" I muttered under my breath.

"What was that, young lady?"

As my lips started forming an excuse, a shimmering glow suddenly reflected throughout the room, temporarily blinding me in the process. I turned to the source of the illumination, fully intent on finding the cause of the sudden brightness, and the sight left me completely stunned. Because behind the grubby velvet curtains, was something that up until that moment, I only believed to exist in fictional worlds; a six feet stone portal.

I looked at my father and opened my mouth, but no words seemed to fall out. At long last, I uttered out, "Is that-"

"Yes, it is a portal. Yes, they do exist. And no, you're not dreaming."

"What? Ho-how is this possible?" I stuttered out, not sure if I had completely lost my marbles.

My mom then crouched down and gently cupped my face in her hands. "Erin, look at me. Do not freak out; just stay calm, and I promise you, everything will be explained, okay?"

I nodded mutely. Is this still reality?

"Good. Now, we're going to pay your grandparents a visit," my dad voiced, "this is how we're going to get some answers. On the count of three, we're going to enter, alright?."

I quickly laced my fingers between my parents and closed my eyes as we dashed towards the unknown, and it wasn't until I opened them that I noticed, it was actually the unknown.

Chatters could be heard throughout as a bustling crowd pervaded the congested street, leaving little to no space on the concrete pavement. Houses could be seen peaking out from the far end of the road, as buildings of various shapes and sizes embraced both sides of the street, being quaint enough to be considered attractive, yet also gave off a contemporary feeling as well. The thing that stood out the most was the fact that everyone was wrapped in either a red, blue, green, or silver cloak, even under the scorching sun. To say we looked out of place was a complete understatement.

"What is this place?" I wondered.

"This is Mirstone, one of the most well-known cities in the nation of Almeria."

"Don't you mean, America?"

"No, I mean Almeria. I'm sorry sweetie, but time is of the essence," he said, pushing through the crowds.

After making a few turn, we soon arrived in front of an ivory-colored wall, and as I looked for any indication as to where our next destination would be, sure enough the name 'Berxley' was carved amidst the bricks. In a blink of an eye, what previously stood a wall was now an arch illuminated with a gleaming light.

"Let's go."

I gave Mom a confused look before following suit. After a few fleeting seconds, we soon arrived outside a street that was similar to our previous location, except...there was something different.

As passersby chattered past us through the hectic alley, I realized it wasn't the aura that was different.

"...merci beaucoup, Monsieur."

It was the language.

Turning to Dad, I asked, "Are we in France? How would you know where the house is?"

Without glancing back, my dad responded, "Because I was raised here my entire childhood."