I was just a little girl when the nightmares started. In fact, I was seven years old. At first, they were black and white--hardly even phased me. But then they got stronger. Soon I heard the voices, remembered the colors. In these nightmares I am five years old. I am in my favorite pink top with the rainbow dots and my yellow capris with the silver butterfly in the left corner. I'm in my preschool, which has many glass windows and blue walls and has myraids of white tables. There is a man in the corner. He's quite handsome, though at five I wouldnt have thought so. He was tal--maybe 6'2--and he had dark hair and deep brown eyes. He was dark skinned, maybe Mexican, or some other form of Spanish heritage. I was the loner. He pulled me aside one day and pulled me into the office. There was a brown leather sofa and a maple wood desk with a dark brown desk chair. He had me sit on the couch, and he said to me: "You dont have many friends, do you? " And I remember saying to him, "No sir, i don't." And he said, "I'll teach you to be a good friend. " I don't need to go on from there; we all know how the rest of the story goes.