But where was she?

Every now and again, the color of her surroundings changed. It had been a blueish-green for some time now. She didn't mind, though. It was actually sort of pleasant. But otherwise... it was like a big nothing. She stood, she sat, she paced... on nothing.

No ceiling, no floor, no walls.

No fighting.

*Roger?* she thought. She heard nothing, and began pacing again.

"Susanne?"

She turned and saw a girl several years younger than her. "Elizabeth?" She said automatically, then wondered why she had said it.

"Are you coming home for my birthday?"

Home? Birthday?

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and whirled to see a taller man with a salt-and-pepper moustache and goatee.

"Haven't you shaved yet?" she said sarcastically, again wondering why she said it... did she know this man?

He didn't respond, just looked over her shoulder. She turned to see what he was looking at...

"Oh great, caught in the middle again," she said as she looked upon a woman a few inches shorter than she with shorter brown hair that was turning gray, despite the efforts of Clairol's best.

"Do you have a job yet?" the woman said. "I hope you're not just sitting in your room playing your guitar."

"Who are you?" Susanne finally said, addressing the three.

"Who who, who who?" a chorus of voices seemed to taunt her.

"I'm not joking, please! Tell me!"

"Tell me, tell me, tell me the answer..."

"No! Can I please get an answer?"

"Why do we never get an answer..."

"STOP!"

Silence.

Susanne took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know what is happening. I'm confused. I can't remember. Please, tell me your names." She finished speaking and waited.

"Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name!" a voice cried. The people disappeared, and Susanne noticed that her surroundings had grown dark. So dark, in fact, she couldn't see anything. Not even her own hand when she held it inches from her face.

She felt panic threatening to rise in her and quickly squelched it. Not much she could do about anything right now. Just wait, be patient. It was probably just a dream.

But it felt so real... the panic rose again as she felt another presence nearby. She wasn't sure how she knew, but there was someone there, or something. She felt a hand brush her shoulder and jumped away, too frightened to even let out anything beyond a low whimper.

She thought she heard a familiar voice in the distance and strained to listen... and then she felt the hand again, and screamed and beat at it, trying to drive it away.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sh, stop, please... there now, it's okay... it was a bad dream... it's okay, shh..."

Susanne choked back her sobs as she leaned against Roger.

He held her tightly now, saying nothing. Whatever she had been dreaming, it must have scared her very badly. When he had put a hand on her shoulder to try to calm her, she had jumped away as if his hand were fire, and then it had taken several minutes to wake her. Several painful minutes, Roger thought, the memory of her flailing fists fresh in his memory.

"Gomen ne," Susanne finally said. She brushed a finger lightly over the red mark on his face and looked even more miserable.

Roger took her hand and kissed her palm. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. It was over a minute before she spoke. "I remember meeting you," she said, "and a little bit before then, but not much. I was living in England. I think I was going to school. But I have an American accent. How long have I lived in England? Does my family live in England or America? Why was the layout of Disneyland so familiar? I don't remember being there before. Who am I?"