Lucy dreams. 

She wakes. 

Waking up feels like falling out thin air and onto the ground with a thud, but no actual motion occurs--she is simply somewhere other than the bed she presumably would have gone to sleep in. 

Somewhere very unfamiliar, it transpires as she levers herself up to look around. 

She's in--some kind of grassland, it looks like, with a gently sloping hill to one side and a stream to the other. She cautiously pushes herself to her feet, noting the dress she's wearing as she does so--it's beautiful, much nicer than anything she owns, a deep garnet red with silver lace. 

She reaches the stream and gasps. 

She had only meant to investigate the only apparent source of fresh water, but her reflection captivates her instantly. It isn't the face she knows. It's the face she's always dreamed of, when she imagined her ideal shape, her hair long and smooth and shining white, her eyes the same pigmentless dark blood color as her mother. She raises her hands to her face, looking at them more closely than she had when she was getting up, and sees delicate, feminine wristbones. She runs her hands down her sides and finds an hourglass figure beyond anything she had bothered fantasizing about. 

She sits down very abruptly. 

And then there is a noise behind her, as of someone moving, and she hastily turns, getting to her feet again, only to be struck still again upon looking into a face just like hers.