Y/n L/n has always had an overactive imagination. She's romanticized every aspect of life to make it better and brighter. It's not schizophrenia, just simply wishing to live in a world better than this one. So when a man appears in her bedroom, she...
A/n: Hello everybody! Today is September 24, 2020. I'm so happy you all decided to keep reading. Just a little FYI that Y/n is 17 in 2020, so Y/n was born in 2003. I don't have much to say, so let's just jump into the story!
2016
Y/n giggles and grabs her crown, waving goodbye to her parents. Even at 13 years old, when all her friends were really growing up and starting to go to parties and dabble with dating, Y/n would never miss an opprotunity to disappear into the woods of Forks and disappearing in her imagination.
She follows her muscle memory to her hideout. Her dad and her worked really hard for 2 weeks to build it, and the result is beautiful. Wooden stairs climb up the tree to a small enclosed room; it can't be bigger than a large pantry. A swing is attached to the narrow deck. It has bean bags, blankets, pillows and SO. MANY. BOOKS.
Y/n always loved books because they were much more scope for the imagination, and are much more immersive than t.v.
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Y/n places the crown atop her head and closes her eyes, breathing deeply.
2020
Y/n opens her eyes and sighs. Rolling onto her side, she glances at the clock. 2:36 am, it reads. Flipping the covers off of her, she sits down in her bay window, and stares out wistfully.
Her parent's gentle snores can be heard. A thought flickers through Y/n's mind.
Her eyebrows raise at the boldness of her own subconciosness. Still, she grabs her cardigan and a flashlight and arranges her pillows to mock her sleeping form. Slipping into her shoes, she thinks again if this is a smart idea.
"I am so dumb," she whispers to herself, but still, she opens her window and crawls onto the roof, slowly sliding down to reach the large tree beside her house. She throws herself to the branch and descends it quickly. The moment her feet touch solid ground, she exhales a sigh of relief.
Turning on her flashlight, she makes her way through the woods, letting familiar landmarks guide her. Every sound causes her to whip around. She remembers back when she was a little kid that there were a bunch of reports about bear attacks or something.
Finally, she reaches her treehouse. She quickly climbs up the ladder and cozies under the blankets. She selects her favorite book from the numerous shelves. Between the Lines by Jodi Picoult.
Her mother got this for her for her 13th birthday, and she fell in love with it. The concept that the characters in a book have their own lives when the cover is closed, and they are fully aware they are just characters in a book.
The fact that Oliver, the main character in the book inside Between the Lines and Delilah, the main character in the real world, fell in love with each other was so romantic, and made Y/n wish for that kind of loving relationship.
Her eyes scan through the pages, delicately touching the illustrations, hoping that if what the book says is true, they can see and feel her.
Y/n sighs and puts the book down, looking over the dark horizon. "That's just stupid. Characters aren't real and I'm likely going to be a virgin until I'm 30. Ok, that's a tad unrealistic, but I just need to chill. Love will find me one day."
Y/n puts rests her head on her hands. "I hope."
She descends the ladder and sets off towards her house. Shimmying back up the tree, she kicks off her shoes and settles back in her bed. Closing her eyes, she plays out her fantasies of cuddling up with her special someone.
Thinking she feels the bed dip, she chuckles to herself without opening her eyes. Before she hits the brink of sleep, she opens her eyes to see a beautiful man sitting beside her.
Normally, she would be scared, but she knows it's just a crack, sleep-deprived, over-imaginative hallucination. "I wish the guys at my school were this cute. Come cuddle with me."
The man's eyes widen and he backs away. "Hey, that's not fair. It's my own imagination; shouldn't it do what I want?" Y/n mumbles before flipping on her side and grumbling about "my imagination having a mind of its own".
