It all started with her. The air was so hot, wet, muggy and stale, it smelled of rot and sweat. The almost nonexistent wind blows the hot air against her skin. Camie's heart is pounding so dang fast! It reminds her of that night, ugh! She shivers at the thought. The air is so warm but her skin is freezing, it's always freezing. How is that possible?

She can hardly see a thing, the air is covered in fog, so thick that she can barely see ten feet in front of her. She squints, attempting to make out the world around her, but again, no luck. The ground beneath her feet is a stubborn as usual. It curves and waves, she looks down at the cobblestone beneath her feet. She's still not used to the unevenness.

Nevertheless, having seen this so many times, it still scares her more than that night. Then she appears, a young woman maybe? Or old teenager, all Camie could make her assumptions on was the height of the woman, 5 foot 7 inches maybe. She skips along the road and up to a building, Camie tries once more, with all her might, to call out, but nothing, not so much as the sound of her breath. But then a loud, short ringing sounds. The woman gasps and turns around swiftly, Camie can hear the very soft but heavy breathing of the girl. She backs up into the wall, she turns and then runs. Oh God, here it comes.

BOOM!

Camie jolts upright screaming. She clutches her chest and looks around her, her body is covered in sweat, no breeze, but the air around her is cool, begging her to relax.

Light from the rising sun shines though the window and onto Camie from her hips up. Her wet hair, near her roots stick to her forehead, strands of her blonde hair hang in front of her eyes, for some reason it reminds her of a movie type setting where grassy curtains are pulled back. She groans and drops her head into her warm, sweating hand. Why?! Why is it that she always has that dream?! Not every night, it staggers, but it's at least three nights a week and has been happening for 5 weeks. She groans and looks back at the sweat her body gave off, it's soaked the bed.

She suddenly freaks out from frustration, confusion, fear, she throws the blanket off her and jumps to her feet. Uh-oh, too fast. She falls back on the bed, sitting upright, she pushes herself back up to her feet again. She walks, more like storms out of her room and into the kitchen. She lays her cheek on the cool surface of the marble counter and tries to calm herself.

Once she's physically cooled off enough, she grabs the premade, steaming pot off the counter and snatches a mug out of her cabinet. She pours into the cup and sips the not scolding but hot brown liquid after blowing on it. She wishes there was something to calm her down faster. Camie sits in a chair at the counter and sighs as she sips it again. She shakes softly and pops her knuckles. She sits there drinking her coffee for a few minutes, She earns enough strength to rip her mind from the dream, Camie walks back into her room, mug in hand and grabs her phone off her bed. She's got a job today, from all around the white house to the monument and statue of Abe lincoln. Photos for three classes on a school trip. Thankfully, the thought of it overtook her mind, she had hardly ever been around D.C., though to be fair, she had only just moved here.

She was lucky to have gotten a job here already, Camie has only been here for a week, she thought moving would maybe help with the nightmare, she quickly up and left, but this was the second time she experienced the nightmare since being here.

Nevermind that though now, she needed to get ready. Camie takes a shower and gets dressed and ready for the day. She picks up her camera bag and shoves her wallet in her back pocket and her phone in her front pocket. Once she tried on guy jeans on a curiosity, she never wore female jeans again. She loved having front pockets, the jeans she wore were actually skinnier, could be passed as gender neutral pants. She loved them. She pulls on a green turtleneck sweater, the arms reach halfway over her hands, she loved the feeling of it, perhaps odd? She didn't care.

She grabs her car keys and walks out of her big apartment. "Morning Julia!" Her neighbor chimes,

She grins at the floor. "Morning Kyle!" she teases back,

A game they had created, She had first arrived, the elderly man, as stubborn as a mountain's immobility, he helped her with her bags. She had learned his name, George, he had learned hers, despite that, halfway up the stairs carrying a few tiny bags, he chirped.

"I'm going to call you Donna!"

She half frowned and smiled at him, "Haha! Why?"

He shrugged, "Because I can. Then the next day you'll be Wendy."

She laughed awkwardly, "You are a funny old man."

"Exactly! I'm old, so you have to accept it."

She raised an eyebrow and smirked at the adorable old man. "Oh do I now?"

"Yes! Come on I'm moving faster than you."

She laughed hard again, "Geez you're one of those mean, pushy old guys aren't you?!"

Every day, he met her when she left her apartment by exiting his own, or was already coming back after retrieving his mail. She knew he timed it on purpose, but Camie didn't mind. He was kind and funny, cute and adorable. They enjoyed each other's company. As she had learned from a talk they had one night, he was an old man that had outlived his children and grandchildren. It filled her with sadness, pain for him. But regardless, he smiled at her, telling her that she reminded him of his granddaughter. Despite the trials he had faced, he was a bright happy soul, looking for the next day and living in the present. She admired the man that lived next to her, having already accepted him as a close friend, as if they had known each other for years.

She locks her apartment and turns to him. "Off to work today are ya?" he asks,

"Some of us can't sit on our lazy rumps and afford to not work."

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He smiles, "You're just jealous. But hey, I stay busy, even in my old age. The past gives us experience, so we can be responsible for the present, and have the strength to face the future."

She raises her eyebrows, "....Pretty deep George." she scoffs,

"Old and wisdom can go together."

"...I got to head out, let me think on that."

"Have a good day Camie."

She smiles softly, she starts down the stairs and walks out of the building. 'The past gives us experience so we can be responsible for the present and have the strength to face the future.' Huh.

She clicks her remote, the headlights flash and she hears the thud of the doors unlocking. She climbs into her charcol gray Rav4 and turns the car over. She calmly comes to life, as if welcoming her and saying 'The day is ours.' The dream has all but left her mind.

She drives not far, to the metro station. She parks and takes the escalator down. She makes her way onto the metro and takes it to the Foggy Bottom GWU Station. She finds her way via phone GPS, Camie walks to the Lincoln Memorial, her camera is already in her hands, a bright smile slapped on her face. The bright sun illuminates the world around her and fills the fluffy white clouds with light of their own. She takes pictures of the people around her on, the grass fields and finally is coming the memorial. She walks up to it and grins, wow. This is incredible, Camie begins to raise her camera, but stops. She lowers the camera and smiles softly.

She takes in every detail of Abe's face and body, she tucks her camera away, decieding to savor the moment. To think that somebody sculpted that makes her have chills, the good kind. She frowns at herself and shakes her head, she's supposed to be waiting for the class, not admiring the statues, the class will be admiring the art, not her, she needs to be more professional.

She waits by one of the pillars for maybe half an hour, trying to catch herself when she people watches. Finally a young thirty something man comes up to her and cautiously asks if she is Camie Forester.

She smiles, that's right! You are Mr. Lynel?" she says shaking his hand,

"Yes, nice to meet you! Uh this is my class. That's Mr. Jackson and Mr. Homer. Hey guys, this is Miss Forester, she's gonna hang out with us today and take our pictures for the trip."

Camie awkwardly waves to them. They smile and some wave back to her. "Alright uh, is it okay if we start here and work our way to the whitehouse?"

She nods and agrees. "Awesome, so we are gonna just check it out a bit and we'll line up to take a picture, if you want to take some pictures between then?"

"Yeah, sure thing."

He does realize they taled to her about the pictures they wanted three times already...right? And that she's...you know...a photographer.

She watches the class run up to the monument and shout and talk to each other, she pulls her camera and quickly gets it ready and attaches the lens. She then goes to work, finding the right angles and timing. She catches one of Mr. Homer sneezing and can't help but press her lips together and smile. Thankfully, he didn't notice. They line up eventually, at least half can't help but make silly faces and some of the boys can't help but flex. But Camie isn't really ammused, though she pretends to be.

They make their way to the obelisk and walk down the water before going inside the monument. They take the elevator to the top, she goes up with the fourth group, the door opens and she walks out, the moment she follows the class out, everything visual, glitches.

She gasps and starts to fall back, she reaches out for the wall beside the elevator doors but it's gone. She can feel her lungs burning, but...strangely, it doesn't hurt? She tries to open her eyes but they won't open, she tries harder and harder, she knows she isn't breathing. Her eyes suddenly burst open without her commanding them to. She's just under the surface of water, staring up at a bright sky and a dark silhouette. Then it hits her, someone is drowning her.

She begins to feel hands on her shoulders like the feeling is fading in instead of out. Camie's body acts on it's own, her hand is gripping something, her body breaks free of one of the hands and her arm throws itself into the air.

The dark silhouette leans back, a faded, gurgly scream echoes across the ripples of water, barely stretching to Camie's ears.

Camie's body again disobeys her, out of sync with Camie's wishes. Her body launches itself out of the water and the scream stops but only just after it's reached an expected volume and normal clarity. Camie falls to her knees, she gasps and coughs hard for air, but her body doesn't sit there,  She looks up and around her, her body forces itself up and sprints to a rifle lying a few feet away on the ground.

Camie hits the ground, grabs the rifle as she goes. She rolls to a crouched foot and knee, turns and squeezes the trigger. The very white skinned man, bleeding from his stomach had rushed at her, but he drops to the ground on his back,as if hitting an invisible wall.

Camie rises to her feet and creeps over. Too mortified to speak she mentally begs and tries as hard as she can to will her body to stop moving, or to turn and run.

Suddenly Camie turns and drops to a knee, looking all around her. "Who's there?!" A voice shouts,

Chills run up her body and down the spine. Wait...was that...was that her?

The gun's barrel lowers a little. "C...Camie?" The voice asks,

'What the hell?' She thinks to herself,

She hears a groaning, Camie's body turns and looks at the wounded man groaning and shaking.

She raises her gun.

'No! No!' Camie mentally shouts,

But her body doesn't listen.

BANG!

"Camie, I know you're freaking out right now, but you need to shut up and let me drive for a second."

'Who are you!?'

"Camie! I'll explain later, okay? Be quiet for a moment." The voice says,

'Oh my gosh...I've lost it."

Camie's body turns and runs against her will. The woman scoffs, "Oh man, I wish that's what this was." she mutters,

Shock begins to really take her over. She does as asked, not that she'd be able to speak anyway, She hardly takes in the world around them. The world around her is covered in debris and rubble and sandbags, details beyond that is a blur.

Maybe this isn't Camie's body at all, even if she's insane, that makes the most sense right now. This...other woman sprints, carrying the two down a street and diving into a three story building. The woman charges up a staircase to the top floor, she wraps the strap of the rifle around her arm, it feels so expert. They peek around the corner, all clear. They carefully move down the tile floor and wall hallway and to the last room on the right. The woman carefully grabs the knob and jiggles it, locked.

'Is it supposed to be locked?'

"Yes." the woman whispers,

The woman turns and looks at the gold numbers on the door behind them. This must be an apartment building? Or an...inn?

"Does this look like a freaking inn to you? It's not the dark ages you know."

'Shut up! you aren't the one stuck in someone else's head! I'm freaking out! Why can't I control my body!?'

"Calm down Cam."

They walk over to the door, the woman raises her hand and the last thick golden number upside down revealing a hole where a key rests inside.

They take the key, unlock the other door and walk inside, shuttting the door behind them and locking it. The woman sets the ket on the table next to the door and walks into the bathroom and looks into the dirt stained mirror.

Camie stares in horror, confusion and shock at the young woman. About her age. Glowing green eyes, lightly freckled, white, reddish skin. Her short hair still drips water from earlier.

"Hey Camie, I'm Nancy. What's uh...well what just happened to you, has been happening to me for about a month now. How you are stuck in my head, well randomly throughout the last several weeks, I've been trapped in your mind...I guess you could just never hear me...But we hear each other now." She scoffs,

Camie just stays silent. "Welcome to February 1947."