Ta-daaa! Hostfanatic is IN the house!

Wow, guys, it's been awhile. It has indeed been awhile. But I'm here now!

If the updates are a tad slow, it's just because I'm not EXACTLY sure how things are going to turn out, and writing takes a bit of time. But please, just keep in mind that I'm doing my best, and enjoy the story!

Okay. That's all.

Read and review, please!

Oh! Disclaimer: the amazingness that is The Host is not owned by me. It is owned by Stephenie Meyer. Celeste, Wes, and a few other characters that I created, however, DO belong to me. Thankyouverymuch. :)

Enjoy!

I hear voices. Everywhere, there are voices. I can't understand quite what they're saying; they all seem to be muted. There's a big thick crowd that is blocking my way, but it's surrounding something that I can't see.

I try as hard as I can to fight through them. That's when I look up and see who they are, see their eyes. They're humans, all of them. And not just any humans. The brutal ones, the monsters. The ones from the aggressive settlement.

I cringe back from them instinctively, but they don't seem to notice me. Their hate-filled glares are focused on the something that they're surrounding. The auburn-haired girl and her parents, the ones that stood up for us, are nowhere to be seen.

I can hear what they're saying now as I get closer and closer to the center.

"A menace!"

"Disgusting, horrible monster."

"Parasite."

"It'll kill us all."

"Can't let it live."

My pushing is frantic now, shoving and elbowing people out of my way. I don't care who sees me. I'm getting a horrible, sickening premonition that something is going to go very, very wrong.

I break through the inner ring of people, and my jaw drops in horror.

Mom.

She's there, on the ground, on her knees, looking helpless with tears in her eyes. She's saying something, trying to plead her innocence, but none of us can hear her.

It doesn't matter. The humans have made up their minds.

"Don't!" I scream. "Please, don't!"

I step forward as the humans advance, trying to protect my mother, but the ground suddenly gives way. Then I'm slipping and sliding down a clammy rock slope, and a fierce, horrible, rushing, thundering sound is filling my ears. I look over my shoulder and see that we're in an enormous version of the river room, including a larger version of the river.

It's rushing, boiling, scalding, and I'm slipping right toward it. But Freedom isn't here to save me this time.

I look up and see the humans and my mother up on the incline like we were. They're surging forward, surrounding her like a pack of wolves.

"STOP!" I cry, trying hard to halt my fall. "Please! She's not dangerous! She won't hurt you! Don't hurt her! Don't hurt my mother!"

Alex advances. It's like in slow motion as the river—and Alex—inch closer and closer. He raises his gun…

"No…NO…"

I fall into the river.

"NO!"

I screamed, sitting bolt upright in bed.

In bed…

I'm in bed, I tried to remind myself. It was just a bad dream…Mom's fine…you're fine.

Letting out a gusty sigh, I flopped backward onto the pillow.

"Sis? You all right?"

I leaned over the side of my cot and smile down at my brother. "Yeah, Wes," I sighed. "Just bad dreams."

His brow wrinkled in concern. "Again?"

I tried to reassure him. "I'm all right. Just a bit on edge."

He smiled up at me, and I grinned right back. Wes is definitely good-looking enough for me to have called him handsome if I wasn't his sister and if that wasn't just plain creepy. Wes is a bit…complicated.

Doc took scans of him when he was born and determined that his accelerated growth would stop when he was ten. Ten years old, not physically ten. He bypassed that mark a LONG time ago.

Anyway, when he reaches age twenty (physically about twenty-five or so) his aging process will halt until his years catch up to his physical body, and then he'll start aging like a completely normal person again. So basically, for the first ten years of his life, he grows too fast. Then for the next ten or so, he doesn't grow at all. And for the last sixty-something, he just acts normal.

My brother is very weird.

Doc and all the others have tried hard to explain this phenomenon, but they're still trying to figure it out. I say "Who cares?" Not because I don't love him, but things just happen because they happen, and I think that wasting time trying to figure stuff out is just stupid.

He's fourteen actual years old right now. He's physically eighteen.

Big brothers. Yaaaaaaaaay.

I love him to pieces, obviously, but with the physical and mental differences, he's pretty much my big brother, and sometimes I forget that it isn't the other way around. He is NOT my older brother, however. I never forget the fact that I am older than him by three years, nor do I ever let him forget it. Never.

Ever.

It has been thirteen peaceful years since The Incident, fourteen blessed years since my brother was born. Everything is fine now, and there isn't anything for ME to be worried about.

But that darned dream just comes up again and again, and it will not stop harassing me. I'm not sure that it ever will. I haven't come up with a great nightmare cure yet.

I lifted my head and looked around our little cave space. I was on my cot, Wes was beneath me on the mattress, and Mom and Dad were tangled up on their bed across the room. Making a face, I looked away.

Might as well leave and let them catch some more sleep, I thought. Pushing myself off the mattress, I headed for the entrance to the cave. Maybe Freedom is awake already, and I'll have someone to talk to.

"Les?" Wes's hesitant voice comes from behind me. Les is my nickname, but he's the only one allowed to use it.

I turned to smile at him comfortingly from the doorway. "What's up, Squirt?" I asked him back, my special nickname for him—although it worked a lot better when he wasn't a foot taller than me and a good fifty pounds heavier. He got Dad's gene when it comes to size. I, sadly, got Mom's.

"Still the same dreams? About the humans and stuff?"

I sighed. "You are human, Wes," I said quietly. We've had the discussion before. He'd been having some "identity" issues on whether or not he's soul or human, because, well, he's kind of both. But he has to get over it. I've had some anxiety on the subject, too, and I turned out just fine. Granted, he's a lot more of a mix than I am, but still.

"That's not what I was hinting toward," he said impatiently in reference to the human thing. "I was just wondering what your theories were."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Theories?"

He rolled his eyes back at me. "Come on, Les. I know that you've got theories. You always do. That was thirteen years ago…" Not that he doesn't remember. He has a photographic memory, and he's remembered every insignificant (and significant) detail of his life from the moment he came out of Mom. Maybe it's a soul thing. "…so why are you still having nightmares about it now?"

I attempted a comforting smile, but it probably turned out more sarcastic than maternal. "Well, thirteen years ago, they let Mom live, and thirteen years later, I'm plagued with horrible nightmares." I shrugged wearily. "Maybe this was the compromise."

I turned and left the cave, shaking the remnants of the nightmare out of my mind. Today is going to be a good day. I can already feel it. I won't let some stupid dreams get in the way of that.

So? How did you like the first chapter?

It's a bit short, I know. It's more like a prologue than a chapter, really.

Anyway, review, please!