I remembered her back in the old days, when we were growing up. Theresa was tall and gangly as a kid, all freckles and skinned knees, sudden enthusiasms and innocent laughter. She was the one with the imagination, but it was strong enough for both of us. Even when I was in my rebellious mid-teens, Theresa was one of the few calming influences in my life. I think she kept me sane. But then we started to grow apart. It's during the teens that you've got to learn one of the most important lessons in life: the world's a dark and dangerous place, and you've got to deal with that if you want to get by. Theresa learned the first part, but not the second. Instead, she'd tried to isolate herself from the world around her. She immersed herself in books, the trideo, and whatever the frag else she could to keep the big bad world from infringing on her reality.