Dakota is a stranger in her own narrative. The paranormal world that has engulfed her life leaves her feeling lost and alone. So, when she begins to have dreams of a little girl with a blue-tinted skin and hair the shade of black grapes, she welcomes it as a distraction. A fable that her mind has created to ease her loneliness. That is, until the day that the girl tells her the future, and she realizes that it's not just a dream. Fueled with an unnerving desire to rescue the child from a life of servitude, she sets out to save her. The only problem is that the girl is not on Earth. So Dakota reaches out to the only person she knows that has truly been on another planet: Olontrios. With his help and the help of his family, they set upon a quest not just to save the little girl, but to show Dakota exactly who she is and who she will become. Nothing can stop her now.

I turned back to her as she lifted another bottle. “Get. Out!” She screamed at me. I saw the light bounce off of the tears that had welled there. Scraggly dude was right. I should have done this differently. “Tritan, if you don’t leave now…” Her lips pressed tightly against each other as her body shook. God, how had I gotten to this point? I had come into the bar so that I could talk to her. Actually, no. I just wanted to see her. To see her face again. I would have never actually said a word to her, if I’m being honest with myself. But when I sat down, I had hoped my new look would have kept me out of her sight for a while. Five years ago, I would have never donned a blue-tipped shag. Five years ago, I would have never had the balls to walk into this bar and apologize either. “Cora, I just wanna talk.” I put my hands up in protest, with hopes that my sincerity would calm her down. I ducked as the next bottle twirled in the air. I cringed as the bottle shattered behind me, splashing my back with cold beer. “No. You’ve had five fucking years to come back here and talk like a fucking man, you piece of shit! Now, get out!” She grabbed another bottle and whirled it at my head. Truthfully, I deserved for her to punch me in the face. I guess bottles being whirled at my head wasn’t so bad.