Chapter 1
Damn, I'm out of wine I thought to myself as I lifted the glass to my lips. I'm generally not the type of person to drown away my sorrows, but after the day I had, the only thing I wanted was to become friends with the lonely bottle of merlot on the top of the cupboard. I knew it would kick me in the ass later, but I didn't care. I just wanted to indulge in a self-pity exercise.
As I walked across the room to where the bottle sat, I thought of the depressing day I experienced. It was my fifteen-year reunion. High school was never extraordinary to me; I spent most of my time helping my parents take care of my older sister, who was battling Leukemia. Instead of going to parties, games, and dances, I frequented hospitals and doctor's offices. My family encouraged me to do everything a "normal teenager" would, but I found myself wanting to spend almost every moment with my sister. That left little time to really be social. With that being said, I wasn't a poor student by any means. I had a lot of interests, got decent grades, but never had the time or confidence to participate in activities other than what was necessary to graduate. I had a few close friends, but they faded as I spent more time with my sister and they prepped for college. Looking back, all I really remember about high school is that I got by.
Shortly after I graduated, my sister passed away. My family and I began to heal, and I had hopes of going to college to make something of myself; I learned quickly life was hard, and extremely unfair. My parents died in a car crash, and I felt I had died, too. I had no one. I stayed at the small house I inherited, working meaningless jobs to pay the bills, existing but not really living. It took years of grief counseling and self healing to finally find my inner spark again and make a change. I started off great, gathering materials for different colleges, flipping through pamphlets, and creating lists of possible degrees. I met new people, even went on dates. I tried a few new things and felt optimistic. But, as the year progressed, my motivation fizzled out. There were bumps trying to get into school. My dates reached a plateau and never progressed into anything serious. I didn't give up on things, but I didn't try really hard, either. My familiar, yet lifeless routine that I had previously established was starting to make a comeback.
When I signed up for the reunion in April, I was excited about the reunion…but now in the middle of July, I dreaded it. I only went because I wasn't about to waste $75 I had to pay for "delightful dinner and dancing." My means of transportation is my bike and public transportation. Living in Phoenix, one of the hottest cities in the United States, it was already 100 degrees by ten in the morning. By the time I got there, I was hot, sweaty, and grumpy.
When I entered the grand ballroom, I saw pictures of the past plastered along the walls with a giant welcome sign. Groups of former classmates lingered with their friends, reliving memories and sharing their new lives. I tried scanning the crowd for a familiar face, but none were there. On one end of the large room a slide show labeled "Changes" played. What a corny name I thought, but I guess all reunions have to be a bit cheesy. I stood and watched pictures and bios of my former classmates until my name flashed on the screen with a picture of me on my bike.
Jelina Marie O'Dell
Home: Phoenix, Arizona
Occupation: Sales Associate
Hobbies and Interests: Bike Riding
I cringed. I remembered submitting the "where are you now" questionnaire, or rather just sending it in almost completely blank. I did like the picture, though, and recalled how happy I was that day. I just got my new bike and was excited to ride. My skin was a golden tan, and my mocha colored hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail. I was actually smiling…not one of the lack luster smiles that I often gave, but the kind that reached my bright green eyes. While I had a brief moment of bliss captured on the screen, it was short lived and couldn't compare to everyone else in the slideshow.
"Oh, I have three kids now!"
"My husband and I went to Spain last year!"
"I am opening a few more branches of my company in California this month!"
"Blah, blah, blah…"
It was all too much for me, to realize the failure that I was, to accept what I had not achieved or become. I tried talking to a few people, but it was like talking to a wall. Most took a while to remember me, which I couldn't blame them. One person remarked how I had potential for something, for what I wasn't sure as she quickly saw her old best friend and excused herself. I was given the polite questions of "Where are you now," and "What are you doing." It was monotonous, and with each conversation, I became more and more depressed. Keeping a smile on my face was difficult, but I was doing alright. That is until someone mentioned how sorry they were for the death of my sister and parents. I felt my mind grow numb with misery, and I didn't stay for the dinner and dancing; instead, I took the first bus back to my place, and cried.
I reached for the bottle and it was drained. I was surprised I already downed it. Pathetic my inner voice moaned. I know I didn't need any more to drink, but I did need something to eat. It was evening, and while still warm, it had cooled down enough for me to ride my bike. Phoenix had wonderful Mexican food, and I knew of a local place with amazing tacos. I needed to ride; it always cleared my mind. I threw on my jeans and grabbed my jacket. It may have been hot out, but I knew the restaurant would be chilly. I put my jacket along with a few other things in my bike basket, including a small journal that was always with me, donned my favorite purple helmet, and hit the road.
Dinner was, as I expected, delicious. Marc, the owner, must have known I had a rough day, because he threw in some extra guacamole for free, along with a very, very strong margarita. While riding home, I could feel the sweat encasing my face, causing my head to itch under my helmet. I needed to brighten up my mood. The streets were quiet, allowing me to hear the music I had playing from the iPod attached to my bike. I listened to a fast-paced song, one that made me pedal harder. I wasn't athletic, but riding a bike everywhere helped keep me in shape. Up ahead, yellow and gold lights flashed signifying a construction zone. I groaned, noticing the bike lane was completely closed. As I approached the construction site, I checked the street for signs of traffic. It was completely empty.
As I crossed in front of the construction site, I noticed a change in the road. While I was not completely drunk, my judgment was far from accurate. I was too close to the tape and the paper ropes grazed my skin. The road, once smooth and flawless, became jagged and shaky. I immediately slowed down, fearing I would lose control. The uneven surface I was riding on made my head pound and my teeth chatter inside my mouth. I was going to have a lot of regrets in the morning. I was almost across the street when my front tire hit something, what I imagined to be a pot hole, except I didn't see anything.
It all happened so quickly. My body toppled forward as the bike slipped from under me. I tightly grasped on to the handles, though any hope of a delicate fall was gone. Shit shit shit...wait, how did I get so high up in the air? Why haven't I hit the ground yet? I felt strange, like I was free falling. Am I falling down a drain? As soon as the question popped into my mind, I hit the ground and blacked out.
I was afraid to open my eyes, afraid to see the damage the fall had caused. My entire body ached. I had fallen off my bike before, but never quite to this extent. I moved my head and noticed I was laying on something soft. Soft? Rocks and concrete weren't soft. As my senses continued to emerge, I smelled grass. Grass? Sure, some people had little plots of grass outside their homes, but the area I lived had typical desert landscape. Was I hallucinating? Did I hit my head so hard my senses were confused?
Slowly, I opened my eyes. I was immediately blinded by light. How long was I out for? I closed my eyes again, thinking of when I left the restaurant. It was night, I think around eight or nine o'clock. Was I really out all night? I found it hard to believe that someone would leave me sprawled out in the street all night. Was I kidnapped? My thoughts became frantic, and again, I became too scared to open my eyes again. If I was kidnapped, no one would know I was gone for a few days. By then I could be a goner. No, no, no! I repeated the words over and over to myself. I wanted a change, and yes, I was a little dramatic for things not being as great as they could be, but I do not want to die! I don't want to be remembered as the girl who took a bike ride and never returned. I forced myself to breathe slowly. Breathe in…breathe out…breathe in…breathe out… I began to calm down and braced myself for the inevitable; I had to open, and keep open, my eyes.
I put my hands over my face to shield my eyes from the sun. Slowly, I began seeing light. When my sight fully emerged, I was taken back. I was not in a grassy patch, but rather a field of green. There was green everywhere! My breathing began to increase, and I felt my heart pump faster, trying to beat right out of my chest. My anxiety came back to me, and it took me quite a while to calm down enough to think rationally. Maybe this is a dream. I was drunk, came home, passed out, and am just having a wacky dream. While I have been known to have some vivid dreams, I have never smelt or felt anything in my dreams. This was too real. I brushed aside that idea. Maybe I hit my head really hard, causing a concussion, and I'm hallucinating. I did fall pretty hard. I felt my head, and noticed my helmet was fully intact. Carefully, I lifted the helmet from my head. No blood. No scratches or major wounds. My head was essentially untouched. I had a little headache, but it felt more like a hangover than from a bike wreck. And the more I thought of it, the less I thought that scenario to be plausible. I had a concussion once, and it just made me confused and sleepy. Here, in this very moment, the blades of grass cushioned my body, the cool breeze tickled my face, and the sun lightly kissed my skin. This wasn't a hallucination; this was real.
I looked around and saw my bike resting on its side. Like me, the bike suffered some surface wounds, but looked fully intact. My basket still contained everything, and the music from my iPod was still playing. I grabbed a pair of sun glasses from my basket, allowing me to really see the area. The sun was sitting lower on the horizon, and looking at my watch, it was about 6 in the morning. I was surprised on how chilly the air was, and grabbed my jacket out of the basket, turning off my iPod to better hear around me. Directly in front of me was nothing but endless blue sky and green fields; it was completely quiet. When a breeze blew past me, I heard the wind whistle in my ears. Did someone kidnap me and take me up north? I turned around, almost passing out again with what I saw.
"You have GOT to be kidding me. What the hell…" I whispered, unable to keep the thought inside my head. I was NOT in Phoenix, or Flagstaff, or even what looked like Arizona. In the distance stood a large white and red castle. Puffs of smoke emerged from one of the towers. Surrounding the castle was what looked like white cotton balls placed on top of thick tree trunks. I continued to look in a full circle, taking in the rest of my surroundings. I had no clue where I was, but all thoughts of logic and reason were immediately gone. I curled up in the grass, closing my eyes and secretly wishing I'd wake back up in my room, sore and hungover.
After an hour of lying motionless, I came to the conclusion that if I wanted to have any hopes of surviving I needed to go head towards the castle. The thought scared me; what if the inhabitants were violent or barbaric? Did I travel back in time? Am I even on the same planet? I wish the Doctor would show up with his TARDIS...whisk me away and take me back to Phoenix. I needed to focus and start heading to the castle. I wasn't only intimidated by the prospect of being an unwelcomed visitor, but I was frightened of being out in the open alone and vulnerable. I didn't know what type of animals lived here, and I didn't want to unknowingly become a snack.
Once I made the decision to move, it took me a while to actually move. My body felt like a boxer had used it as a punching bag. My regrets of drinking as much as I did were in full force, as my head was pounding. I did not have a choice, however, and sitting around was not going to do me any good. I was glad I still had some water and pain reliver tucked in my bag. I turned back on my music, hoping that would give me some motivation to keep going. I pedaled cautiously as I braced myself for the unknown.
The travel was not as bad as I thought. I noticed many strange objects along my way. Large brick blocks floated in the air. I stopped to examine one more closely, curious on how it was hovering. It was several feet above me, silently floating in place. A large question mark glistened on the side, which further fed my curiosity. I had to suppress myself from touching the block. I was fearful that a bomb or defensive device was inside and would hurt me with the slightest touch. Or maybe it was a trap. Either way, I rode away before my curiosity could possibly get me into serious trouble. Along with these strange floating blocks were large pipes. They varied in height and color, but all were wide enough for a large person to fit in. I approached a pipe that was close to my eye level and thought my bike could have easily fit in the hole. I noted to myself that if I needed a hiding place, I could jump into one of the pipes.
As I got closer to the castle, details that I could not see in the distance emerged. The cotton ball-tree trunk fixtures began to take shape. They appeared to be large mushrooms. Circles of various colors accented the white tops. What are they? I pondered. I couldn't see enough details to know for sure what they were. More details became visible on the castle. A large stained-glass window displaying a woman sparkled in the sunlight, and a flag bearing a mushroom with a crown flapped in the wind. I wondered what the fixation with mushrooms were; I knew places had themes relevant to objects of importance. Phoenix, after all, was the valley of the sun, and it wasn't uncommon to see shops bearing a flag or sign with a sun on it, or the mythological phoenix bird. They must really like mushrooms, or high all the time was all I could conclude.
It wasn't until my iPod started warning me the battery was low that I was aware of how long I had been traveling. I stopped and drank the last bit of water out of my bottle, and I became aware of the pains in my stomach. Food, I needed food. I hadn't eaten all day, and my stomach wasn't prepped for a long day of traveling. I looked in my basket for something to eat…maybe I left something in there from a previous bike ride. I was lucky! Hidden at the bottom of my basket was a single granola bar. It wasn't much, but it would at least put something in me and give me a boost until I got to the town. I ate slowly, enjoying every bite the small bar offered. It was time to go, as the sun was sinking to the ground. My daylight hours were approaching an end.
It felt quiet without my music pumping me along, but it was probably good I didn't ride into town with strange music blaring. I wanted to check out the area before approaching anyone, and music would be a dead giveaway of my presence. I wasn't sure how I was going to cross the moat in the front of the castle, so I decided to follow the path that was on the side of the castle. The grass under my bike began to be replaced with yellow bricks. I laughed, thinking of the movie The Wizard of Oz. More and more of the question mark blocks, as well as plain brick blocks, scattered the skies and emerged on the ground. A small brick fence began to encase the path I was taking, growing higher and higher the further I traveled. The castle no longer was part of the landscape; it began filling the space in front of me. I saw more details on the mushrooms, and gasped. Mushroom houses! I was entering a town! How did I not figure this out before? Other oddly shaped homes were mixed in with the mushroom houses. There were houses in the shape of a brown mushroom, and some shaped like a giant turtle shell. I smiled when I saw familiar looking thistle roofed cottages. The place had a welcoming sense to it, and my fears began to go away as I surveyed the cozy little homes. Maybe this won't be so bad after all I optimistically thought.
That thought quickly left my mind as I saw what emerged from one of the mushroom homes.