There’s a lot going on around me. And there’s a lot more I don’t know than I do. The only thing that’s certain right now is that, once again, I am trapped inside a cougar.

The faded plaid wallpaper and glow in the dark plastic stars are gone now. My new surroundings consist of a high cliff, a rushing water creek, and snow. I’m surrounded by snow. I hate snow.

No, that’s a lie, I lied to you. I’m Canadian. Loving snowmen and igloos and sledding and skating and snowshoes and hot chocolate is in my blood…I hate the cold. It makes me crabby. And damn is it cold. Darn sun is still sleeping.

Right now, it’s cold enough that if I were in my human body I’d be coughing. Wonderful. Is this my life now? Like, is this going to a be a permanent thing? Because that’s not okay. I didn’t sign up for this crap.

A huff of annoyance escapes me and crystalizes in front of my face. Fuck, it really is too cold. I thought animals had fur to keep them warm. Why isn’t this beast’s fur keeping it warm? Is it defective?

Wow, nice going, Kara. Out of all the cougars in the world you decided to take a dream joyride in the only broken one for miles. Good going, moron.

I’d give myself a sarcastic pat on the back if I could control this animal’s limbs, but I can’t. My control is so limited it’s basically nonexistent. I’m a passenger on this crazy train, not the conductor.

More importantly if I freeze to death out here will my real body die too?

Nope, no, let’s not think about that. Just because the movies say you can die in your dreams doesn’t make it true. I’m not even convinced anymore that these are even dreams. Hence the plan I made last night. Not that I should give a lot of stock to my reality right now, considering where I am.

Inside a cougar in case that hasn’t sunk in yet.

I realize I’m not giving a lot of credence to my sanity. During science block yesterday, Mr. Teurney was saying how the simplest solution is usually right. These dreams are too real to be just dreams, which means they’re either elaborate hallucinations or something complicated and supernatural is happening. To me, a Normie.

Yeah, I don’t like my odds either. Mutant shenanigans aren’t supposed to affect us Normies except in a few specific situations, of which this is not one. Err- not a known one. Still, not super likely. I’ve already acknowledged to myself that it’s possible the cat thing is evidence of a mental break, most likely brought on by my stupid surroundings and thus not my fault, but still needing treatment. Yet I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not wrong about this, too.

So I’m not going to blindly accept I’m crazy like my friends and family have. I mean, believing I’m being held illegally inside a pocket dimension is one thing, something that’s pretty easy to prove either way. Mind-Possessing cats are a whole other can of worms. What I’m saying is, I’m going to try and prove the whole supernatural thing is the reason, first. If that’s a bust I promise I’ll check into the local mental ward, and my story can end here.

I won’t ever deny the Bubble theory, though. I don’t care how many drugs they put me on.

Great. Just great. Now my veins are turning into ice because the stupid cougar has decided walking across a half-frozen creek is a smart idea. It’s defective and an idiot. I really know how to pick ‘em. My, or it’s…Ours? Fuck it, my damn paw pads are frozen. I’m frozen. I just want this not-a-dream to be over already.

Breathe. Just breathe. I force my lungs to inflate and deflate. It’s disconcerting how often I’ve had to force that lately. At least I can do that when I want to, or I’d be in full on panic mode right now. My head is still fuzzy, but that’s probably just hypothermia, nothing urgent. I need to pay attention if my plan is going to work. This time I’m close enough for the plan to actually work.

Um, the last time didn’t go so well. We don’t need to get into that here.

The creek we’re walking across is the same one we’ve been following the last few days. Or rather, the cougar has been following. Why do I keep mixing us up? Stop it, me.

It started as a river in the distance. Then, in last Tuesday night’s dream, the river met the creek and the cougar got close to water for the first time. That’s how I first discovered what animal I was inhabiting.

You see, I can only look at whatever the cougar chooses to look at. There was a lot of grass, and pine trees, then ash trees, and that’s when I figured out the animal in my dreams was travelling to Ashvale. We have almost exclusively ash trees here, there isn’t a lot of variety when it comes to tall leafy things.

There was also a lot of paw pads and bloody rabbits. Let me tell you, the insides of a rabbit are a lot gorier and gross than a frog’s. Science block and PG16 movies did not prepare me for that.

Back to what I was saying, I didn’t see a full reflection of myself until last Tuesday. Boy was that a shock. I knew I was inside some sort of predator, but I thought it was a lynx. The paws I’d seen were clearly cat-like, because I love cats and have one, but to think I was in a cougar of all things.

It’s not a normal cougar either. For a moment I thought it was a black cougar, like a black panther but a cougar, but it’s not totally black. The head is almost all black except for the grey cheeks, and the tail is completely black, then there’s a long black stripe covering most of its back and connecting them. And the dark stripe fades out slowly into the sides of its silvery coat.

It’d be pretty if I were looking at it in a national geographic magazine or something, but when it’s the cougar you’re trapped in it just looks like an ominous sign. I mean, everyone knows black is unlucky, and black cats? I really do know how to pick ‘em.

I shouldn’t be too judgemental here, considering I have black hair too. But no one says humans with black hair are unlucky, that’s what they say about gingers. So it’s not the same.

At least my preparations won’t be for nothing. I had a full chart mapped out on my Wall of Conspiracies and all my calculations stated that considering the trend from the last dreams, it would happen tonight. And I was right. Funny how often that seems to be the case, eh?

It’s been happening for two weeks now, and it’s happened six times. Well, seven now. Wednesday two weeks ago was the first, followed by that Saturday. Then it was last Tuesday, followed by last Friday, followed by this Monday. That’s five times in two weeks, with three-day intervals. After Monday it happened on this Wednesday night, which is only a two-day interval. It’s perfectly reasonable to assume that it will happen again tonight, Friday. Another two-day interval. Afterwards, this Sunday followed by next Tuesday then Thursday, for another five sets.

The problem is that is that according to this logic, this means that after next Thursday, if nothing is done, it will begin to happen every night. No more intervals. Then what? It’ll start happening during the day? Will it become permanent? I don’t wanna become a cougar, I’m too young!

You see the problem now, right?

On top of that, it’s... it’s hard to explain, but every time it happens it feels easier, like the connection is getting stronger. I feel less weird when I’m in the cougar, basically. On that first Wednesday I was so disoriented I didn’t know what was going on, but tonight my mind is sharp and clear. Like I’ve acclimated.

That’s the best I can describe it. There’s not a lot of scenarios where that’s a good thing. What if one night I don’t come back? And I just roam as a cougar for the rest of my life. No, stop, don’t think of these things. You’ll psych yourself out. Focus. Breathe.

Hooo… I don’t know why this is occurring or how to stop it, but I wish I did. I can’t even tell anyone, they already think I’m out of my mind about the other stuff, so I just talk to myself. I mean, how could I even start? Especially without any sort of proof. They would all think I was crazy. Or, crazier.

Whoa, Jeezus. We’re on a ledge now after climbing a steep incline. This thing didn’t break a sweat. That’s not to say I couldn’t do it myself, but not without sweating a bit.

Ah, now that’s a nice view. Fuck.

Remember when I said the cat would finally be close enough? By that I mean I can see the roof of my house from here. It’s just slightly taller than the surrounding trees. If I yelled, or caterwauled I guess, my mom could hear me. Too bad I don’t control this cat’s vocal cords. And that cats can’t talk.

The powdery top layer of snow crunches pleasantly under my feet. It’s a welcome relief after the ice water from earlier. It’s loud, it seems so loud to me, but the sound must not carry well because the doe we’re staring at doesn’t flinch at all. Completely clueless to our presence.

Aha, so that’s what we were tracking.

It. The cougar. Not me. Damn it.

The simple-minded prey has stopped to drink from a puddle. Even though there’s a perfectly fine creek like, two, three feet away? I don’t understand animals.

Caw. C-Caw.

Shit sticks and fiddles. A bird caws sharply from above us, and while it scares me to death the cat is unaffected. Still, it looks up just long enough for something weird to happen.

A raven is sitting on a branch across the water, staring, it seems, right at me, with its creepy, black beady eyes.

It caws again, fluffing out its wings and tilting its head like it wants something from me. I have the strangest feeling that the bird really is seeing me, not the big cat. But that’s impossible, right? What do you want, a cracker? Oh wait, that’s a parrot thing. Ravens like shiny stuff, right?

Anyway, now an owl has joined it on the branch, sitting so close they’re touching. Is that normal? The raven doesn’t flinch at all even though the owl is huge and has two tufts of feathers that make it look like it has horns. A great horned owl. The birds are cooing at each other like old friends. It’s so weird.

The moment is over, and the cat is focused again on its goal. Guess it doesn’t find it as odd as I do. It’s got bigger fish to fry.

My hypothetical stomach is churning. This beast always has the strangest feeling before it pounces or starts the chase.

Our body gets hot, and all our muscles tense up, our heart pounds... We’re excited yet we remain calm, or the cougar does. I’m freaking out because by now I know what this is.

Bloodlust. The hunt. The anticipation of a kill.

The creek has picked up its pace since we crossed, as has the sun. The first foggy grey light of morning is covering everything, and the water hitting the various rocks turns as white as the doe’s tail. As white as the snow all around us.

That’s how I knew, on Monday, that we were so close, and would soon be even closer. On Wednesday I was even more certain. There are a lot of creeks that run through these mountains but only a few that would have ice and snow already this early, it’s only September. That means we’re higher up in the mountains than we were in the last few dreams.

Of course, that doesn’t guarantee on its own that we’d end up right outside my doorstep. But in the last couple years I’ve hiked all around the dozen or so mountains that surround Ashvale. I was looking for answers to the many peculiarities about this place. Yes, like I’ve been saying all along, this place was weird even before the dreams. But at least the weirdness didn’t involve me specifically.

Now it’s personal.

Thanks to my hikes I knew the area well enough to know exactly where I was, and I was right. Heh, I’m always right about supernatural shit. This is going to go perfectly. I just have to survive this next part first.

The doe has dropped its guard. A fatal mistake.

The cougar’s whole body is so tense now it almost hurts, and I brace myself for the sudden burst of energy I know by now is coming. The poor, pretty thing won’t know it’s dead until it’s too late. Run! Run while you can! Oh god…

Here it comes. I want to throw up.

We spring forward, almost silently, and seem to hover in the air for a moment before our decent begins. It’s quick. The doe sees our shadow first and stiffens. Before it can prance away my hind legs have caught it and my jaws are clamped around its neck. A sharp twist of my body brings the animal down, and a few rough shakes of my head snaps its neck.

That’s totally normal, right? Hahaha… breathe. Breathe, me! This is not the time to hyperventilate. No time is a good time for that, but especially not now, so don’t!

I get up and look down at my kill. The cougar’s kill, I mean. Not mine, the cougar’s. Chill, Kara. You didn’t kill anything. You’re a passenger, remember? Breathe. You only have a few moments to take it all in. You may have seen your house from that ledge but it’s a high mountain ledge. You’re not as close as you think.

Which is probably a good thing. If the cougar had crawled into the back-yard mom probably would have shot it. Me. She’d shoot me. And who knows what that would do.

I’m distracted again. Think, look, memorize. You already know the path to get here. That line of birch trees along the creek from the start of the dream is your starting marker. You’ll have to climb up that ledge, that’ll be fun, before you’ll get here. It’s a small clearing, there are three fallen tree trunks along the far side and a large, distinctive rock over there. Okay. The dumb cat is busy eating but looking forwards it seems we’re close to that small lake that’s one plateau above ours. You know that area well.

I should be able to find this place just fine. So if I come here after I wake up and there’s evidence of my dream’s events then that will prove it once and for all. That this is not a dream, I really am inside a cougar in real life. It will prove it’s a supernatural event, and I’m not insane.

God, what a sorry looking animal. It’s not enough to turn me vegetarian but wow. There are multiple slashes to the doe’s front left leg and chest, from when I dug my claws into her. A chunk of her neck is missing, and I can see ‘inside things’ that I shouldn’t because they’ve become ‘outside things.’

No, wait, it’s not missing, I’m eating it. That’s where that chunk went.

Ugh, it’s a good thing I don’t control this thing’s gag reflex.

I can only taste blood like usual, not the raw meat. I guess this is what raw meat tastes like straight from the source. I’m getting sick of this taste. If I had control of this animal, I would be real sick right now. That piece would not have gone down as cleanly as it just did. If at all.

Any second now I’m going to wake up, either by my alarm or early. I know this because I’m never allowed to see where this cougar sleeps or where it stashes its prey. I always wake up right around now.

Another thing I discovered because of this dumb cat, is that apparently, I can’t leave town. I never noticed that before because I never tried, I mean why? There’s only one dirt road out and nowhere to go. So while I mapped the strange border, I never actually crossed it.

Remember how my last plan failed and I lost two hours? Yeah, I only found this out Wednesday after school, but before the scheduled dream.

I decided to ditch my friends’ attempts to hang out yet again, not that that’s new, and instead tried to leave the city limits. It’s not like I was running away from home or something. I’d seen a cute, heart shaped lake in the distance during Monday’s dream. I figured if I could get there and find evidence of the cougar’s… nightly activities, then I’d know for sure, like I’m trying to do now.

According to my map, it was a couple hours round trip outside town, tops. Totally doable. I had a map and a compass and everything. Not to mention two years’ hiking experience and general directional literacy. I was hoping to find answers, not more questions.

I somehow got “lost” and found myself back in Ashvale. Twice.

I’m not an idiot. Okay, I’m not a total idiot, but I’m great with directions. I’m an experienced hiker. I’m just not allowed to leave. Or so it seems. Three miles outside the city seems to be the limit. It was after midnight when I made it back the second time.

My curfew is 10:30PM on weeknights, per my mom, with the city-wide curfew for minors being 11:30PM. Mum had called the police. They were going to send out a search party and everything. Which is odd because in cop shows the detectives are always like, ‘come back in 24 hours, lady, I’ve got doughnuts to eat,’ and stuff.

Another weird thing I discovered about this city a while ago, and experienced firsthand that night, is that Ashvale policemen train Coyotes. Not dogs. Legit Coyote Police Animals. Is that even safe? Who authorized that!?

Anyways, I’ve never seen my mom that angry in my life. No, sorry, I lied again. She’s been that angry before, but it still ranks in the top five, okay? The thing is… the second attempt I left at 7:23PM. There was still enough time, just cutting it close. And there’s just no logical way it could have been midnight when I got back. My watch said 9:54 the last time I checked, and I had considered calling it a day and heading home, but I never got the chance. Mere minutes later, surrounded by cops and flashing lights, it read 12:02. I had been further that five miles out.

I lost two whole hours.

And my T.V privileges.

And I can’t leave the house except for school and work. So there’s that.

It's gonna make my plan more difficult, but this hasn’t been easy from the start. I should wake up any second now, then the second phase of my plan will begin.

Do Do Do dodo DODODODO

Do Do-

And there’s my alarm. Told ‘ya.