"Elizabeth! I want that room done by tomorrow! Do you hear me!?"

"Yes, mother!" Elizabeth yelled back down the stairs, as nicely as she could, considering she was mad enough to kill her mother right now. She could never forgive her for moving them from their nice house in California to come to New Mexico. And the state wasn't the worst part. The town sounded, and looked, like the worst place on earth. Taos. What the hell kind of name is that? She remembered when her mother had first told her about it.

"Tay-ose?" she said, reading the description of the house they had bought.

"No. Taos. Rhymes with 'house'," her mother replied.

"Why here?" she asked. "Why are we moving anyway?"

"Some things are better left untold." Was all she had said.

Elizabeth took the bottle of perfume she was unpacking on the vanity and slammed it down as hard as she could. It shattered, sending shards of glass and droplets of perfume everywhere. What was the point of moving here if you had no reason to? To waste money on buying a house? She knew that her mother would never waste money like that. Ms. Gail was the most frugal person Elizabeth knew, unlike herself. Her mother wouldn't dare spend money on things like vacations very often. Elizabeth, on the other hand, couldn't save money if her life depended on it. She spent money on things her mother detested, like video games, comics and the latest music magazines. Sometimes when she got something like that, her mother got mad and sometime took it away. But, somehow, every time, Elizabeth got it back.

She stared at the dark green walls in her new bedroom. This would have to go. Maybe she could get away with painting them blue or purple anything but this dark puke green looking color. The floor had a stained old rug on it. Luckily she packed the rug that was in her old room. It would look a lot better on the brown hard-wood floors than this ugly old thing. She didn't really feel like unpacking the rest of her stuff right now, she could do it later, there wasn't much left anyway.

She sulked down the stairs, feeling more depressed than ever, to the kitchen to get a drink and a snack. Her mother had bought new furniture to go in the new house. That was about the only part Elizabeth liked about moving, her mother got halfway cool looking stuff. She searched through the fridge until she found some soda and ice cream to snack on. Ms Gail walked in a few moments later, carrying a box.

"Liz, be a doll and unpack this in the living room when you get done," she said. "You can arrange it anyway you want, just make it look neat and not messy and unorganized like your room."

"Mom, my room is not unorganized and you know it!" Elizabeth shot back, sounding a little too whiny to her liking. She crammed the last bit of ice cream in her mouth, took her bowl to the sink, and picked up the box.

In the living room, she pulled out everything in the box and set it on the floor, looking at each thing and deciding where it should go. She was right in the middle of stacking some old books on a bookshelf when she was overcome by a massive headache and a low humming like noise in her head. She set the book down and held her head in her hands for a moment, hoping the pain would go away, but it didn't.

Slowly she got up and went to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom to get some ibuprofen but was met halfway there by her mom. She tried desperately to hide how awful she felt, but failed.

"What's wrong, dear?" she inquired, putting her hand to her daughter's forehead to see if she had a fever.

"Nothing, Mom. I'm fine,"

"Are you sure? You look sick." She aid suspiciously, it wasn't the first time Liz had tried to hide something from her mom, and she knew when her daughter was lying, but she let it go, as she had a lot of work to do before nightfall.

Quickly, Elizabeth dashed to the bathroom and shut the door. She fished through the medicine cabinet until she found the bottle labled IBUPROFEN: HEADACHE MEDICINE. She quickly popped two of them into her mouth and went back into the living room to finish putting stuff up.

She found this to be a harder task than she had imagined, between her mother coming in every five minutes to tell her what she was doing wrong, and her constant head pains. She eventually just gave up and announced angrily to her mom that she was just going to quit for the night and that she would finish tomorrow. With that, she stormed up the stairs, ignoring what her mom was yelling about stomping off like that and talking back to your mother.

_

No matter how hard she tried, ELizabeth couldn't concentrate on the TV. The pain in her head was overpowering her ability to think about anything. Not to mention the annoying buzzing noise that wouldn't seem to go away. She had taken many ibuprofen tablets, but they didn't work. Finally she gave in and let it take over as she sank inot the couch and fell into an uneasy sleep.

_

/She couldn't breathe. She could feel the water encompassing her like a cage, a wet, cold, cage. And there was nothing she could do about it. Whenever she tried to escape and swim to the surface, more water spilled into her lungs and made it harder to breathe. She thrashed about wildly, trying to escape her watery doom, but to no avail. She knew that any moment, she would drown. She heard someone calling her name, frantically, trying to get her out, but she couldn't. No matter how she tried. She could not escape. She knew that at any moment she would die./

_

Then she woke up, her mother was shaking her and calling her name angrily.

"ELIZABETH! WAKE UP AND CLEAN UP YOUR MESS! NOW!" She snapped up and then almost tumbled forward, losing her balance. She forgot she was on the couch instead of her much larger bed.

"What?" she mumbled, putting a hand to her head and yawning.

"Clean up your mess!" her mother yelled as she walked out of the room.

She looked at the clock. She hadn't been asleep for more than twenty minutes. She remembered the dream and how real it had seemed. She was sweating and shaking, she noticed. It was the most vivid dream she had ever had. So scary and . . . she didn't know how else to describe it. It was just scary. It was the kind of dream one of her friends, Tina, had gone to therapy for back in California. She remembered how well Tina had described it to her, as if she had been there herself and it hadn't just been a dream. Except, Tina had been having th same dream over and over again, night after night. What had she called it? Recurring dreams? Luckily, Liz had only had this dream once, and that was all she hoped she had of them, too.

Lazily, she climbed off the couch and began picking up the leftover what-nots and things and placed on random shelves, trying to get done as soon as she could. It was 10:00 P.M. and she was tired and felt like crap.

Her mother soon walked in and asked her if she was almost finished.

"Yeah," she said, not looking up.

"Here, let me help you," her mother sat down on the floor next to her and helped put up the rest of the things.

They were about halfway finished when Liz was overcome with a terrible pain in her head that made her fall forward.

"Are you alright?" her mother said instantly putting out a hand to protect her from falling.

"Yea. Just caught me by surprise," she brushed her mom's hand away form her.

"How long have you been feeling bad?"

"What are you talking about?"

"There's half a bottle of ibuprofen in the bathroom that was full when we got here. Did you take it all?"

"Yea. I had a headache. What did you expect me to do?"

"Answer my first question. How long have you felt like this?"

"Since we got here."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want you to get all worried and then not leave me alone like you always do."

"Now you know that's not true,"

She looked at her mom like she was crazy "You always do it mom. It IS true."

"Fine. If that's how you feel, I won't mention anything to you about it again unless you talk to me first."

"Will you make an appointment with a doctor?"

"Certainly. First thing tomorrow morning," Her mom smiled and left the room.