The spirits come over to me, I sigh. Are they going to be nice to me or are they going to mess with me? I've seen them mess with other people before but never me. I can feeltheir cool fingers as they brush against my skin. It tingles and somehow relaxs me.
These are the nice ones, if they weren't they'd of pulled my hair of something. They're leading me into an old church. No one goes in here anymore because some spirits started mucking around during ceremonies. I sat down on one of the chairs there. It's so soft and comfitable. My eyes are starting to drop, my mind going into sleepmode.
Suddenly my pencil drops and my sketch pad flies into my lap. I smile a little. The pages are flicking until they stop and one of my drawings. I can feel the blood drain from my face and my skin become cold. Why is that my reaction all the time when I look at this drawing? I'm supposed to do something toit but I don't know what."I can't. I haven'teven seen this person. I had a dream, I don't know who or where she is. I'm sorry but I can't find her."But I want to. Something in the back of mymind is telling me tofind this girl. Why is it so important?
My pencil slides into my hand. I frown, ready to object when I can see it. The something that I'm missing! There's more to add onto this picture, lots more. My hand starts to have a mind of it's own, drawing perfectly, like a photo.