Act 1 Scene i

“There are so many fragile things. After all, people break so easily; and so do dreams and hearts.”
-Neil Gaiman

The dreams (if you could call them that) had started about a week ago, on the night that Bethany and her friends hat moved into the Chelsea apartment from White Plains, NY. Bethany, or B as her friends called her, was not sure they were dreams, because they were too vivid, too easy to remember and absolutely too lucid. And perhaps Nightmare was more appropriate. They did not come every night, but it was becoming an unfortunate regularity. Tonight, the dream started the same way they all had; not with the sensation of falling, but with drowning.

There was the claustrophobic realization that every part of her body was being invaded by the cold wet water. It was like ice, so sharp that it forced Bethany to squeeze her eyes shut, and almost made her scream out in surprise. But she had been through this for the last week, and she knew to squeeze her lips tight, lest the putrid tasting swamp water reached her tongue.

It took less time now to stop thrashing and orient herself. Bethany opened her eyes and sought out the light, using the moon's glow to find the surface. Gaining willful control of her limbs, Bethany swam up, and up, and up, not thinking about what else may be lurking down in the cold dark water. Finally she broke the surface, flinging her head back and gasping for air. The yellow moon was full, and monstrously large in the starless sky. The water showed no ripples, despite her actively treading water. The surface of the lake was dark obsidian, and reflected the moon, and her face in a pale white distortion of reality.

Bethany paddled to the shore, slowly pulling herself onto land, as her hung wet and heavy protectively against her body. She caught her breath from the exertion, and trudged a little farther onto the lake's bank. There was the familiar snuffling, growling, and yipping sound (Dogs? Wolves?), somewhere off in the distance, behind the dark and twisted trees. But as always, the animals came no closer and did not reveal themselves.

A hooting noise brought Bethany's attention skyward, where a snow white horned owl had landed on the extended branch of a near by tree. The owl cocked it's head at B, it's wide eyes examining her knowingly. It opened it's yellowed cracked beak and let out a shrill human like cackle. The owl turned it's head over it's shoulder, spinning it's neck impossibly so that the head turned a full 360 degree circle. And when the head had turned around fully, Bethany was staring in to the eyes of The Crone.

The impossibly wrinkled face leered at Bethany, with black little eyes behind a long crooked nose. A tassel of wild white hair merged with the owl's snow white feathers. The Crone cackled again then said, "Hello again Bethany, my little pretty one.". She cocked her head again at Bethany, as if waiting for a reply.