Bella Swan was attending school at a prep school in Washington. She was sixteen years old, and unfortunately had a very bad case of insomnia. She had had insomnia for most of her teenage years, and always walked around like a zombie with raccoon eyes, the school uniform making her look extra gruesome.
Hopefully, however, this would all change tonight. Her doctor had finally given in and prescribed her some sleeping pills. She treasured that little cardboard box like it was the holy grail, and could hardly wait to see if the pills it contained worked.
She grabbed a glass of water and walked into her dorm room, clad only in pajamas with sheep on them. they were blue. she picked up the box and read the writing on the sticker the pharmacy had stuck on the side of it.
Take one when going to sleep'
Alrighty then, she thought, and popped out a pill and placing it on her tongue before drinking the glass of water. Then she laid on the bed and got under the covers, turning to her side and closing her eyes. The time was ten thirty at night. She had classes in the morning.
Then, she waited. And waited. She waited for about fifteen minutes, and then the bed seemed to move beneath her, like someone was lifting it and moving it from side to side. She realized quickly that she was hallucinating, but she didn't mind. It was almost soothing. But then, she felt pressure on her lips, like someone was kissing her. She opened her eyes, and saw a boy who looked to be around her age kneeling next to the bed. He had green eyes and bronze tousled hair. He was beautiful.
He was shimmery around the edges. She realized he was a hallucination as well, and closed her eyes again. He kissed her again, and stroked her cheek, before stroking her hair. He kept doing this for about ten minutes, and then she fell into oblivion.
She slept until her alarm beeped at seven the next morning.
He came back the next night, and the next. Sometimes she felt him behind her, his arm around her, and sometimes when she opened her eyes briefly there was nothing there, but sometimes she was blessed with the sight of him. He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her jaw, the top of her head, and her lips. He caressed her skin. Sometimes she felt his hands under the covers, though they never strayed anywhere inappropriate. He touched her like she was his, and he loved her, but he respected her as well in some odd way.
She was looking much better after a few days of this. Several people had remarked on it, to which she always replied that she was sleeping better, but some people said that couldn't account for the happy glow she now had. She knew it was because of him. Her father had never been the sort to openly show affection, though she always knew he loved her, but she had lived with him for most of her life, and this new physical affection was having a distinct effect on her mood. She knew he wasn't real, but she wasn't sure if she would ever find anyone as good to her as he was. Sometimes when he touched her skin it tingled.
Every night she felt all the physical effects of being in love, and quite frankly she loved it.
One night, she decided to see if he could talk. She took her pill, laid in bed, and waited. She felt the bed move beneath her and welcomed it. It meant he was coming. Sure enough, after a while she felt a hand stroking through her hair, and her hair seemed to move, though she knew in reality it didn't. She opened her eyes. She could see him that night. She was glad. She thought that even if he could talk, he wouldn't when he was hiding from her, as she had begun to call it.
He was smiling at her. His green eyes seemed impossibly kind. She stayed still, sure that if she moved he would disappear.
"Hi," she said cautiously.
"Hi, he said back to her, and his mouth seemed to blur as he spoke. His voice was but a seemed to appear in her mind, she was very aware she wasn't actually hearing it. She felt his lips on the back of her neck.
"What's your name," she asked him.
"Peter," he said, and ran a hand over her side, from her waist to the middle of her thigh. She felt his hand like it was beneath the covers. That was one of her favorite names, and she wondered idly if that was the reason behind it.
"I'm Bella," she told him, and he looked amused. "Are you," he said, and then chuckled. She realized he was laughing at her, because of course he knew who she was. Her mind and a sleeping pill made him up. He knew everything she knew, because in a way he was her.
His chuckles died down, and he smiled fondly at her. "Close your eyes, Bella," he said. She did as he asked, and felt his lips on hers. He caressed her hair while she fell asleep.