Isabelle came from an entirely normal family. There was her mom, the nurse, her father, the architect, and her older brother, a grade 12 high school student. They lived in an average sized home, in a small town near London. All was well.

And then all was.... what? Izzy had woken up from a dream to find her hair purple, as it had been in her dream. She went back to bed, convinced that she was still dreaming of course. Hair couldn't change colour like that. When she woke up, her hair had returned to its normal colour, reinstating her belief that her purple hair had entirely been a dream. The sun shone through her bedroom window, illuminating the walls of her bedroom, revealing her reflection in a mirror across the room. Her eyes had become piercing blue, just as she'd always wished they could be. Izzy shook her head, trying to rid herself of the image. She had brown eyes. She was sure of it. When she looked again, her eyes were brown.

Izzy wandered downstairs to get ready for school. She was immediately greeted by her mother.

"What are you doing up? It's summer." She said, shaking her head. "You should get some more sleep."

"I'm not tired."

"Wow," said her mom. "What are you so excited about today?"

"I don't know. I guess I am a bit excited about picking strawberries today." Izzy shrugged.

"Alright then. Get yourself ready and then we can go pick some strawberries." Her mom was raising her eyebrows and smiling.

So, Izzy threw on a purple sweatshirt and jeans, and ran into her mom's car. Upon arrival at the strawberry fields, a man stepped out from the shadows of a tree and said to her mother, "Where did you come from? The dumpster?"

It was certainly true that her mom only wore a tattered green t-shirt and old jeans. It was also true that her hair was very frizzy that morning and there were tired shadows under her eyes. But this remark infuriated Isabelle and the next second, the man was hanging upside down from the tree, showing off his pink polka-dotted underpants.

Izzy's mom gasped. "What the-" Regaining her composure, she said, "Pull up your pants." The man's face was more red than the ripest strawberry.

Izzy just stared at the scene, confused about what had just happened. One minute, the man had been standing directly in front of them, and the next, he was hanging in a tree. She was positive that he had never climbed the tree. It was like he had just appeared... But of course that couldn't be

Later, when Izzy was wishing that all the strawberries could be ripe, they began to ripen before her eyes, becoming redder by the millisecond. She tried to shake her head and clear off the strange visions, but the sight of the ever ripening strawberries did not disappear from her eyes at all. So she ate one and noted that it tasted wonderful.

At home that night, her mother tripped and would have fallen hard down the stairs, had the air not caught her and lowered her gently to the floor. Izzy was standing by her mom, gaping at the whole scene. Then, mentally slapping herself, she asked her mom if she was okay, because she had of course not been lowered slowly to the ground. That was impossible.

"Yeah, I don't think I have a single scratch." Her mom said, vaguely confused.

So Izzy went to bed, replaying the day's events in her mind. Purple hair. Blue Eyes. Upside down guy. Red strawberries. Floating mother. It felt like it couldn't all be a coincidence. But all of those things were impossible, and yet it was like they had magically happened. She knew she was obviously wrong, as it was all completely impossible, but she still felt so very troubled.