In My Own Little World

My eyes snapped open and I rolled off the cot I had been sleeping on, a heavy mace belonging to a rather hideous goblin crashed into my pillow, sending feathers everywhere. That's right boys and girls, I said goblin. A couple of years ago I wouldn't have believed it either, but I was a mere child a couple of years ago.
Using the flurry of feathers to my advantage, I dove out of sight and rolled under the only other piece of furniture in the room, my chest of drawers. It also happened to be where my twin set of short swords was hidden, and not by coincidence. The goblin let out a bellow of rage when he realized I had disappeared. He took his rage out on the bed, crushing it to splinters. This was exactly what I wanted. While his attention was diverted to the bed, I slithered out from under the chest of drawers, short swords in tow. Silent as a shadow I crept up behind him and delivered a killing blow that ended with his head on the floor. Goblins never were very smart creatures. My name is Evelyn Marsh, and this is my story.

"Quit it Drake!" my best friend Angie giggled.

"Why? you know you love it!" Drake continued to tickle her relentlessly.

"Because I'm driving, that's why!" She shouted between giggles. It was just another day for my friends and I. I as in me, Evelyn Marsh. My steely gray eyes took in my friends and our surroundings. We were just doing what we did every weekend, cruising in Angie's old buick, fondly nicknamed Big Bertha. There was me sitting in the back, next to my other best friend Miles, with the two lovebirds Drake and Angie in the front, horsing around as usual. There outspoken affection irritated me, but I just kept quiet. If I said anything about it, Angie would start up her whole, "We need to find you a man..." routine, and who wants that? Truth be told, the only guy I can stand more than 5 minutes with is Miles, but we could never be together, that would just be weird.

I tore my eyes away from the couple up front and cast a sideways glance at him. He was gazing dreamily out the window, his green eyes dancing with an inner light that only he seemed to possess. He was rocking out on his ipod and took no notice of me. As I watched him, he began to nod along to the song, his lengthy black/brown hair swaying to the beat. He turned around and saw me watching him, and flashed me a lopsided grin. He pulled out his headphones to speak, "What's up babe? You got something on your mind?"

"Nope." I lied. I always had something on my mind, and Miles knew it. He frowned but just shrugged it off, replacing his headphones. That's why he's such a good friend, he never questions my nature, he just accepts it. Maybe I should back up a little and explain how we ended up such good friends...

~Age 7, circa 1995~

Why did it always have to be me?

"Hey wierdo!" I was walking home from school, and like everyday after school, James and his gang of cronies were following me. They never gave me a moment's peace ever since I knocked one of them out for calling me fat. I know, jerk right?

"Hey I was talking to you wierdo! Or are you deaf as well as stupid?" His words stung, but I wouldn't let them see me cry. My pace quickened and their shouts increased. I prayed I would make it home without a loogie in my hair or something else of equal distaste. I had just turned the corner onto my block when I was tackled from behind. It wouldn't have been a big thing, but I landed wrong and sat on my ankle, an audible SNAP could be heard, followed by a shriek I didn't even know I had made. At the sound of my shriek they immediately backed off. I opened my eyes to look at my throbbing ankle, and almost threw up. The bones were sticking out in two places, and the skin around them was growing more purple by the second.

"Dude. She's really hurt. Quick, lets get out of here!" One of the jerks whispered. In a flash they we high tailing it up the street, leaving me on the deserted street corner. I groaned painfully, and tried to get on my knees so I could crawl to the nearest house, but all my resolve was gone. I flopped back down on my butt, hugged my knees and cried.

I cried for a little while, cursing my tormentors and swearing revenge. I allowed myself this unusual courtesy, there was no one around and I NEVER cried in front of anyone. Just as I was coming up with a list of all the awful things I would like to do to James Finster, someone can bustling around the corner. It was the new kid who lived next door to me. I didn't really know much about him back then, only that he had moved here from Arizona and that my mom had specifically warned me not to ask him why he only lived with his dad. At the time I made up all sorts of imaginative reasons: maybe his mom was taken from them in the night by a boogey man, or maybe she was in one of those magic shows where the magician makes somebody dissappear, but she never came back again. In the mind of my seven year old self the words "death" and "divorce" were foreign. Well, maybe not COMPLETELY foreign, but at the very least misunderstood. He had shaggy dark brown hair that was sticking up at odd angles all over his head, giving him a desheveled, maybe even homeless appearance. His clothing was probably about 4 sizes too big for him, the sleeves of his oversized sweatshirt flopping over the tips of his fingers. His whole body screamed out that "I'm uncomfortable with myself, come beat me up" vibe. He was an outcast. Like me. I immediately stopped crying and tried to act like everything was normal, and it almost worked. He was moving so quickly it would be easy to miss a petite girl wearing colors that matched the pavement. However, it was NOT easy to miss the now plum purple bruise slowly spreading over the majority of my ankle, especially when the color of my skin was so pale. He stopped and did a double take of my injury, and when I didn't say anything he spoke to me.

"Are you okay?! That looks like it hurts a lot." I looked up at him, still not speaking. He was focused intensely on my face, gnawing on his bottom lip. He waited anxiously for a response for several minutes. Receiving none, he laughed uncomfortably and glanced around, as if my unseen tormentor would come racing out of the bushes. Seeing no immediate threat, he wandered a bit closer and tried to touch my ankle but I slapped his hand away and eyed him warily. Suprisingly he wasn't offended by my gesture and merely chuckled.

"You don't talk much do you?"

"No Duh."

I thought to myself, and a small smile threatened to tug up the corners of my mouth. He must have been more observant that I had supposed because he took my not-even-a-smile smile as positive feedback.

"Well that's okay if you don't like to talk, I can do the talking for both of us. Everyone says I talk TOO much. But I never listen to them anyway, I'm too busy talking." I laughed out loud at this absurd statement and he grinned cheekily at me. But his smile faltered when he glanced down at my rapidly swelling ankle. "I should help you. Do you live around here?" I contemplated my options. I could tell him the truth, I could lie, or I could just remain stoically silent, which is what I usually do. But for some reason I identified with this kid, and I felt I could trust him. Not quite on speaking terms, I nodded my head. Rather than be discouraged by my methods, he seemed satisfied.

"Can you show me where?" I nodded again and he helped me to my feet. Together we limped down the street until I came to a stop in front of my house.

"No way! This is YOUR house?" he asked. I nodded again and he laughed out loud. "This is my next door neighbors house! YOU'RE MY NEIGHBOR! Cool huh?" I shrugged and he helped me to the front door. "If you ever want to play, or you wanna try out that talking thing sometime, you should come over. I just have to ask my daddy first." I nodded again, and he was just about to head off next door when I called after him,

"Thank you. What's your name?" He stopped and grinned as he turned around.

"Miles. What's yours?"

"Evelyn, but you can call me Eevee."

I shook the memory out of my head. Miles was watching my expression with a concerned look on his face. He could read me like a book, but I just shrugged at him. It was starting to get dark, and the road was getting pretty curvy too. It was one of those roads that goes less travelled, full of big estates with fences and bushes along the roadside. I don't think we had ever taken this route before. Suddenly Drake sprung another tickle attack on Angie, and unfortunately she wasn't quite ready for it. The car swerved out of control and barreled off the road, straight for a little cottage. The cottage was surounded by this big green hedge and Bertha, being the big girl that she is plowed right on through it. There was a blinding flash of light, a scream, and then nothing.

When I came to, I was splayed out over Miles' chest in the back. I checked myself out, and other than some stiffness and soreness, I was untouched. Seatbelts can save a life. I scanned the rest of the vehicle, and observed that our car had crashed into the cottage porch, and seeing how it was daylight I could not imagine how we had stayed there all night without someone noticing we were there, or someone at home noticing we were missing. I checked everyones pulse, and everything seemed to be normal, I was just the first one up. Miles began to stir as I pushed the door open, and together we climbed out of the car. I observed the cottage, it appeared deserted. Behind it stood an intimidating expanse of trees. "It looks like no ones been living here for years." said Miles. "I know." I replied. The entire lot was surrounded by a tall green hedge, the one we had plowed through to get here. Something didn't seem right about this. One thing I prided myself with was a close attention to detail. It seemed like the very air around us was cold and foreboding. I turned around to look at the way we came into the yard and found myself at a loss for words.

There WAS no road. Beyond the hedge we had just crashed through was a river, and beyond. A field of trees quickly followed the river, and in the distance I could see a foreboding looking castle on a hill. Me and Miles stared at the scenery, speechless. "Where are we Eevee?" whispered Miles. "I don't know Miles... but we're definitely not in Kansas anymore."