First Story Post!
What can I tell you about myself? Well. let's see. My name is Theresa Annete Prisgale, but pretty much everyone who I consider a friend just calls me Reesa, largely because I hate my name. It sounds so pompous and prissy, y'know? I don't like that. Maybe one day I'll change my name officially, but for now, everyone calls me Reesa. Except my older brother, he calls me "Reesie", probably because he knows how much a loathe that childish name.
I'm sixteen years old, the adopted child of Paul and Heather Prisgale --- a rather well-to-do family -- and I love them and all, but I have to admit, I don't usually like them very much. I also have an older brother named Hale, who I'm really close too. Everyone I know, even my close friends and family, think I'm kinda weird, but they don't know the half of it. All my life, I've heard voices. Well, for as long as I can remember anyway. And I'm fairly sure these weren't crazy-people voices. They knew things. Things I couldn't possibly know. With the help of the voices (and trust me, there are a lot of them), I've always been a top-class student, but in spite of them --- or perhaps because of them --- I've never been particularly good at socialising with other people. The voices in my head are so much easier to deal with, y'know?
But one morning, exactly two weeks after my sixteenth birthday, my life suddenly got a whole lot weirder.
It started off fairly normal, of course. Wake up, get out of bed, start stumble half-naked down the hall towards the bathroom before one of the voices reminds me I shouldn't go wandering around the house in just my underwear, go back to my room, put on some clothes, go have shower. Y'know. The usual.
After showering, drying and getting dressed, I paused in front of the mirror, taking in my own reflection. My skin was fairly pale and faint freckles dotted over the bridge of my nose, my long, wavy auburn hair hung down a few inches past my shoulders, and was presently clinging damply to my face. A pair of dull blue eyes stared back at me, eyelids rimmed with dark circles. All in all, I looked like crap, and a kinda felt like it too. Maybe I could get out of school today? I was rather looking forward to relaxing and settling down to reading one of the books I had gotten for my birthday. I do so love reading.
But knowing my parents, I thought bitterly, they'll probably send me off to school even though I feel horrible. They were strict like that, and always assumed that any time I claimed sickness that I was trying to get out of school. Not that I entirely blame them, I mean... I did kinda fake illness for most of the seventh grade. But that's another story, and far less interesting that the one I'm telling now. So, I went back to my room, pulled on some clothing that was atleast suitably presentable for school, tied back my hair, put on my wireframe glasses, and went downstairs for breakfast.
Hale was sitting at the dining table with the newspaper and an untouched bowl of cereal in front of him, reading over the articles with an expression of general disinterest on his face. As I approached, he glanced up at me with his dark blue eyes, flashing a toothy smile and setting the paper aside, reaching up to rub at the thick stubble on his face.
"Good morning, Ressie. Sleep well?" He asked casually.
"Mrrg." Was my oh-so-articulate response, as I strode into the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of cereal, before returning to the table and flopping into a chair lazily, unwittingly sloshing around the contents of the bowl and splashing my sleeveless top with milk and Cheerios in the process, which illicited another frustrated groan from me.
"You look like shit" Hale observed conversationally, quickly shutting his mouth as I shot a glare at him.
I didn't blame him though. I probably did look like shit. I certainly felt like it, and I couldn't explain why. It wasn't like any sort of illness I had experienced before. No headache, no nausea, no real pain, just a general feeling of... well... bad-ness.
With a grunt, I mumbled, "I'll be fine," setting down my bowl and leaving it untouched on the table.
I went to pack my bag, slung it over my shoulder, making my way quickly towards the door and brushing past Hale with a muttered goodbye as he stepped into my path, with a concerned expression on his face. Shoving open the front door, I stepped out. And then I fell.
I don't mean, "I fell as I stepped out the door, and landed on the ground", I mean freefall. One moment I was stepping out the front door of my family home, the next minute I was falling rapidly through a green sky. Holy shit, the sky is green! I rolled about in the air, the wind rushing past me causing my hair to whip about around my face wildly, and tried to see what was below me. For a moment I couldn't see anything, and then suddenly it came into view, and I swore.
It was a vast blue-green ocean, and I was plunging towards it at terminal velocity, through the friggin' green sky! This was insane! Well, what could be done? I closed my eyes and awaited for the eventual impact and the no doubt sudden and hopefully painless death that would shortly follow. It took less than two seconds for me to hit the water, and I hit it hard, the water splashing all around me as I sunk like a stone. That was the last thing my senses registered before everything went black.
When I woke up, here I was, lying on this beach in the middle of nowhere, with my backpack, my glasses, and my surprisingly clean and damp clothing. And the sky is green. And the trees are all different shades of red. Rising to my feet, I reach up, surprised to find my glasses still in place. I can make out several trails leading off into the forest, and smoke coming from the distance. Squinting, I can even make out a large white-stone spire on the horizon.
Shit. What do I do now, voices? How did I get caught up in whatever this is? Where the hell am I? And what is that unusually large crab doing, scuttling towards me?
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Last edited by SilverWingedSeraph on Mon Dec 22, 2008 2:56 am, edited 6 times in total.