THIS IDEA ACTUALLY CAME TO ME IN A DREAM, AND I WAS WONDERING IF PEOPLE WOULD LIKE IT...I HOPE IT'S NOT TOO CONFUSING. ANY QUESTIONS, MAIL ME!

DISCLAIMER: UNFORTUNATELY, THE ONLY THING I OWN IS AN OVERACTIVE IMAGINATION. ALL CHARACTERS AND LIKENESSES TO TWILIGHT BELONG TO STEPHENIE MEYER.

I read the last chapter of the story I was reading online, it was really good. It was a love story, a good one, which had yet another happy ending. Although reading it was good, I couldn't help but to think that not all romances have happy endings. Some of them end badly. I glanced at the clock above my baseball awarded to "Jasper Whitlock, MVP" and looked at the time. Wow. 2:03 am. I have a game tomorrow, I need to sleep. I should've written a new chapter on my fan fiction, but I'm too tired now. I got too tied up in that story.

I know what you're thinking, what's a high school baseball MVP doing reading romance stories and writing fan fiction? It's a little odd. But this is who I am. This is my deepest, darkest secret and it's also my greatest, most relaxing, most fulfilling, and most satisfying joy. I loved writing fan fiction. It's like a…like a secret life for me. A secret obsession, if you will. You probably think it's really lame, but there are some people out there who knows exactly what I'm talking about. People who know exactly what I feel like, and who are exactly like I am. So regardless of what you say, I know I'm not alone.

I put my computer on standby, and then I lay down in the bed. I stared at my ceiling for a minute, just thinking. What if I didn't have to hide my obsession? What if I could tell someone, anyone, about it and not be judged? Not be ridiculed?

It's not like I can't find anyone to talk to who's clearly as enthusiastic as I am, I've been to midnight release parties, movie premieres—the whole she-bang. I'm a part of the fandom, if nothing else. I'm a true fan-boy. I stay on the sites, I post stories, I stay updated, and I listen to the different pod casts, all of it. It's all over my computer. But it's like…what if I could be myself…that part of myself…around people who know me? I mean, who really know me. People like my best friends, or the baseball team. Why do I have to hide such a big part of my life? Why do I have to hide such a big chunk of who I am?

That's life, I guess. I just don't know what I'd do if people found out. So I try to keep a low profile about it. No one knows. I guess that's the price I pay to be popular at Forks High School.

I fell asleep contemplating this, only to have a dream so totally original, so pure, so touching. So out of this world. It was surreal. The dream looked so vivid, so descriptive, and so beautiful.

In the dream it was a clear, warm night and the moon shined beautifully in the starry sky. Crickets were chirping, it was very relaxing and calming. If I hadn't remembered falling asleep, I would've thought it was real. I looked around and realized that they were in a baseball field, directly in the center of the diamond on the pitcher's mound. The environment was so perfect, so private. It was completely romantic and uninterrupted. They were alone together, and it was completely chaste. Like nothing could come between them in this moment.

They being two people, a girl and a boy, were laying there. Occasionally staring up at the nighttime sky, but mostly looking deeply into each others eyes. The boy, tall and lanky but slightly built, stared into her big brown eyes in admiration. I could only picture what thoughts were running through his mind. Love, fascination, completeness, adoration. She stared back into his brilliant green ones with amazement, like she couldn't believe he was there with him. She admired the way his striking bronze hair looked in perfect disarray, as if he meant to do it that way, giving him the look of a model. He truly was in her eyes. The emotions of wonderment and delight were written on her face as she smiled a beautiful smile at him. Her pale white skin turned a very noticeable red as her deep dimples made an appearance. His ivory skin turned a light red, almost as red as his lips, making him smile brightly in return.

He leaned in ever so slowly, letting her meet him halfway. When she did they shared the most gentle, romantic kiss ever witnessed. It was so deep; you could just feel the emotions from the kiss rolling off them in waves. Something about that kiss seemed so innocent, so pure, yet so wrong. The wrong feeling felt wrong in itself. It felt misplaced, like it didn't belong, or it shouldn't belong, but it was as present and strong as the others. It was there for a reason. Something was wrong with this. You wouldn't guess it if you just looked at them kiss, but you had to feel what I'm feeling. There was something more to this. But even with all of this running through my head, still nothing could take away from the essence of the scene playing out before me. It was so remarkable, so magnetic, so hypnotizing, it had to be real. It was playing tricks with my mind. These two teenagers, just about my age, had so much to them that was undiscovered.

There was such a strong feeling of negativity and wrongness floating above them, yet their romance went unscathed by it. It was truly a scene so rare, so private, so forbidden, so beautiful. It…fascinated me.

I jolted out of my sleep when it ended, feeling completely invigorated. This was a feeling of brand newness, I felt entirely dazzled. I felt the impulse to write down my dream, for some reason forgetting it or brushing it off felt like the most horrible of crimes. I could never just blow it off, this felt like something way more. Something big. So huge, I was a little scared. But anxiety quickly overwhelmed that.

Feeling writing it down would take too long, I hopped up and went to my computer. I typed it as fast as I could, feeling that slowness would result in loss of details from the dream. And I wanted to remember everything. It wasn't that hard, because the dream had such vitality about it. It felt like a reality. I looked over at the clock. 4:47am. Okay, I'm getting up in 2 hours. I need to sleep.

I read over my dream one more time, and it was a bit rough. But all that could be fixed later.

I went back to sleep realizing that my characters didn't have names, and they needed them badly. Names that had to be perfect, to fit them perfectly. Although they hadn't said a word in my dream, so much could be assumed about them and their personalities already. About their story.

As I said this in my mind, I realized that it felt wrong to say that. It felt wrong to call them that. I couldn't call them characters. They felt like so much more than that. They felt like people, like they were real and living. They felt so…alive. This naming process took me all night.