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Prologue

Dancing in a ballroom like in a fairy tale or a rich estate in the 1800s or something or other - but with gold and other extravagance in decor. I am dancing with my small knit of friends amid another group of people that I seem to be more familiar with that the rest of the people in that ballroom. It seems as if we're outsiders or something to the rest of the people there.

I turn and see a boy gazing – not creepily, but normally like as if making eye contact by mistake. Then the boy shocks me by saying.

"You know you're the most..." and sprouts some blush-worthy compliments and I blanked out at "...sexy, cute, beautiful girl I've ever met. And you don't even know it."

He resembles an old classmate, especially hair-wise – or maybe my memory's not that great. Not surprising.

I get so shy that I turn around and walk quickly away. Running would've attracted more unnecessary attention. But it was on the verge of breaking into run. I left behind that large familiar group. Laughing they were - at my shyness. It seems only that group noticed the exchange.

He's staring at you hurry away.

Suddenly the scene changes to me running along this white hallway, then again, with me just having just entered this bathroom. I'm looking through my own eyes down into the toilet in a cubicle, where my aqua hijab seems to have fallen. Beyond recovery. Seems I didn't really need to go to the toilet, but it was just an excuse to escape the situation before because as I didn't know how to react.

I apparently felt so flattered and touched by the boy's sincere words.

The perspective is still me looking through my own eyes at the mirror. I'm wearing a pretty sparkly aquamarine dress. It's modest but I don't understand how it went with the hijab since the sleeves are see-through.

I look as if I've just ran (which I just did - obviously) and I'm huffing slightly but the widening of my eyes and the glitter (yes, actual, silvery glitter) on my cheekbones suggest that I'm flushed, not puffed out.

No one's ever told me anything like that before – or at least, in that way.

Looking in the mirror, I'm shocked at how...pretty my expression makes me look. It makes me look a bit different.

Suddenly I'm running along the hallway again, further away from the ballroom. I end up in this car park, like those at big malls, apparently looking for a toilet (I don't know why it's at the car park). I find one even though passing cars and people in cars that are already parked can view me. Its just a toilet in the corner of two walls.

I'm sitting on the toilet but then I see Jayden who seems to be going to his car to go home (it's not their home though, it's a foreign place – weird that I know that) and I silently pray that he doesn't see me.

And he doesn't.

Then I notice Jade, his older twin, walking closely behind (wearing her glasses, as always). Whilst praying that she doesn't notice me, she suddenly turns to her left and sees me on the toilet (that's such a weird sentence). I panic and hurriedly mouth:

Don't look at me!

But she continues looking at me, frowning like she can't understand what I'm on. As if some one sitting on a toilet in a car park is the most normal thing ever, let alone toilet.

In. the. Car- fricken-park.

Then, I'm apparently done as the scene changes back to me running along the corridor again (it's at this point that I realise these running along the corridor scenes are in the perspective of security cameras placed in the upper corners of the ends of the hallway). This time, to the ballroom as it feels as if I've been gone for a long time.

As I enter the ballroom, I'm on this platform-like thing that has stairs leading down to the part of the ballroom where everyone was dancing. Was. Everyone seems to be saying their goodbyes and leaving now. My friend, a dark-haired girl whose root are yet to be bleached to match the rest of her hair, reaches me at the top and asks if I'm okay and if I can see how many fingers she's holding up.

She's wearing a similar sparkly aquamarine dress as me but it's a different style and it seems to suit her as she doesn't wear hijab, showing off her beautiful, blonde-Ombre. She's my best friend. I consider her my sister.

I would've said some sarcastic if it wasn't for the realisation that I'd been limping along the hallways (to and back) and the slight pain at the top of my head suggests that I must've bumped it somewhere along the hallway.

That's when a guy's voice asks me from behind, 'Who am I?'

I realise that he's friend, not foe and is making sure I don't have amnesia or something.

I have no idea how they know, or even how they knew I'd come out through that way. It was a different path from how I'd left the room. I answer him. He comes around and I see that the boy is not the same as the one that so graciously complimented me before. For one thing, his hair is shorter and straighter and blacker. Less afro-like. I know that he's not really with that big group I was with. He's familiar, like I am with my blonde-haired friend. He's handsome too, I notice.

That whole group is with me, unfamiliar with this foreign place. He, on the other hand, seems to be very familiar with this environment.

He and my friend continue discussing my condition (I cannot fathom why!) and they occasionally ask me some questions which I absent-mindedly answer. He suddenly disappears, and the girl continues interrogating me.

Suddenly someone, him, asks me from behind, "What's your favourite dessert?" I think up a lot of them and voice them to him, but apparently, I'm wrong.

As if I don't know my own preference.

But then as I'm racking my brain for another answer, his arm come around in front of me...holding out a plate of a variety of different slices of..."cheesecake!"

I don't understand how I forgot!

Cue face palm.

He reveals more boxes of a variety of slices of cheesecake as the girl helps me sit on the ground to eat and I'm not putting pressure on my bad leg. Like the last rakat praying position.

I don't even think about how or where he could've gotten those at a ball. Nor about how everyone's leaving, or that my friend and I are now separated from the rest of the group.

After eating a few slices, considerably more than the girl and boy, I feel a bit full and tired. They help me pack up the boxes (resemble that of airplane meals). My friend carries some of the boxes while I carry a few and the boy (boy?! This is ain't no boy) carries you. I don't seem to mind as much as I usually would - I continue eating some more cheesecake (so I'm apparently not that full).

I don't realise that the car I arrived in hasn't left yet as the last of our group are just getting on.

I knew I had a 'vision of the future'. But it's a bit different. There are more things going on, part of a big, or many, mysteries.