Dreams. A magical world, a time for the mind to rest and peruse the stained glass of its own sanity. It was utterly revolting to close his newly lashed lenses. A dream tore his memories. It sent shards of glass into an already grievous wound. At first, it had seemed a perfect rewrite. Everything was becoming completely surreal. He had acted from his own conscience when he destroyed the Haywire virus. That was the only thing he felt he had ever done from his own core.

Good thing that was all over. He would now awaken and he would begin forging new futures of his own volition. The couch was pressed against his face, as it usually was when he awoke in his office. His couches were leather. This one was not. A long sigh erupted from the manipulator's mouth as his eyes opened. A veil of crimson draped over his face. Dry and long and luxurious. Long red hair.

A puff of breath blew the hair up and out of his face, illuminating his vision with the light of multiple windows. A large television was on, music videos playing on its high definition screen. Garrett's eyes panned down his? body, leopard print cloth canvassed over a young female's body. The revulsion and shock of the situation made him shudder. He also disappeared from sight.

So, to sum up his situation, he was in an unfamilar place, in unfamiliar clothes, wearing an unfamiliar body. Anything else? Invisibility. A sizzling sensation moved like an amoeba within his skull. What was going to happen the next time he closed his eyes? Awaken as a flying yak, capable of nuclear fission, but only on Tuesdays? It was all so maddening. He slung his slender legs over the edge of the couch, the only evidence of the action being the movement of couch cushions and the tousling of the carpet.

The kitchen's refrigerator door opened abruptly, knocking some kid with coke-bottle glasses aside. Milk and cereal magically made its way into a bowl on the kitchen table, a spoon dipping itself in just after. The bowl then began to float down the hallways of the Mansion, the spoon shoveling loads of sugary goodness into the invisible orifice. Crunch, crunch. Kids moved when the invisible girl bumped them, or they just did their best to avoid the situation entirely.

The bowl became empty sooner than later and magically left Garrett's hands, falling and breaking on the polished hardwood floors, the vestiges of milk trailing over their lustrous sheen. Classes seemed to be in session, as most of the noise seemed to emanate from the classrooms in particular. This gave Garrett time to walk around and enjoy the sights of this large school. Stairs brought him up to a second floor where a sign revealed that the boys and girls were segregated on opposite halls, while adults' quarters could be found down the central hall. Something seemed so familiar about this hallway. The invisible not-girl stood with his head cocked. Not that anyone could see it.

Perhaps he had a room here. He fished through his pockets and surely came up with a key. He continued to linger at the juncture of the three halls, his vision pointed toward the adult residential areas. Whatever the memory, it couldn't be counted on until he was in his body again. Knowing his location wouldn't be a bad thing either. Stepping into the room of a young girl brought all of the sights and sounds one would expect. More disgusted sighs were vomited as something more suitable was found to wear. The door remained open since it didn't matter who saw. There was currently nothing to see.