Inspired by Mimi's Born This Way, here is my own series, Hot and Dangerous. Takes place during Ratchet and Clank 1, and will continue through the whole series. Here's her profile:
Name: Berri McKnight
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Likes: Technology, makeup, dark colors, video games, pop culture, shopping, showing off, flirting, dissing others, modern objects, diets, water, skin care products, and winning.
Dislikes: Kill joys, school, know-it-alls, old stuff, anything that looks bad (she buys technology just because it looks good), losing, when her hair frizzes, rain because it ruins her hair, makeup, and her clothes, when she's the one getting dissed, when her skin breaks out, when a piece of her technology breaks, and when a game is damaged.
Appearance: Black "Scene" hair (poofs out) with light blue and pink streaks, "cat-tail" heavy eyeliner, light blue and pink eyeshadow, wears a Blood On the Dance Floor t-shirt, skinny jeans where one leg is black and the other is purple, dark purple pumps. She also wears red lipstick and has pale skin. Her eyes are green. She is small, but very curvy and weighs 105 pounds. She has a black beauty mark on the left side of her mouth.
What She Carries: Her iPhone, iPod touch, Sweetheart Eye Shadow palette, red lipstick, black eyeliner, a black skull mirror, hairspray, a hair brush, a little bag of toilet trees, a tube of roll-on pink color, black mascara, a mini thing of nail polish remover, a nail file, and her Axe Anarchy For Her.
Personality: Something of a bad girl brat. She's very vain, and cares a lot about her appearance. She never leaves the house without makeup, both in her bag and on her face. She takes about three hours to get ready. She is a pop culture junkie, and loves all things modern and black. She is a video game addict, and her most recent favorite game is Ratchet and Clank: All 4 One, although she hasn't finished it yet.
Bio: An only child of a rich family, Berri has it all-looks, money, friends, everything she's ever wanted, and as many boyfriends as she could handle. However, when she's sent to the first Ratchet and Clank game, she finds herself attracted to someone who's technically an alien-Ratchet and joins him and Clank to stop Drek.
Chapter I: Glitter On My Eyes
"Wear them gold and diamond rings-all them things don't mean a thing. Chaperones and limousines, shoppin' for expensive things."
-Fergie, "Glamorous"
When your alarm goes off in the morning, "Just a Dream" by Nelly from Q105, you just roll over and listen for a minute. You may prefer the Sam and Christina version, but Nelly's is still good. Finally, you sit up and switch it off. You turn and get into your black slippers that were waiting for your feet on the side of your four-poster, black and midnight blue canopy bed (it even has a little step ladder). The maid will come by later and fix your covers, fluff your pillows, and leave a mint and your favorite half-coffee, half-hot chocolate next to your lamp.
You head to your bathroom and get into the shower-shampoo, conditioner, and a ton of anti-frizz products. You get out, and slip into your lacy black bath robe. You turn on your hair dryer, fluffing your hair and then you turn it off and plug in your flat iron. While you wait for that to heat up, you go back into your bedroom and open the doors to your massive walk-in closet. One side is tops, the right has the bottoms, and below both sides are your shoes (the left has Prada, the other pumps from Hot Topic), and on the left top shelf has your Dooney and Burke purses and on the other side your Gucci.
You smile, and pick out your favorite BOTDF shirt (the Ima Monster one) you got from Hot Topic, and pick out the almost-matching skinny jeans, the pair that are half black, and the other leg is dark purple. You pick up your purple, 5-inch pumps and go back into your bathroom. Your "jet black, diamond hair" is all dry, so your baby blue and light pink streaks are back to their usual color. You tease your hair and spray it, smiling at your reflection. You start your ProActive thing-cleanser, toner, repairing treatment, daily oil control, and your moisturizer-and now your face feels all nice, soft, and completely clear.
You change into your clothes, and set about your makeup. Light pink eyeshadow on your lids, then baby blue up from the crease to your brow; you add heavy black eyeliner around your eyes, on the lid, and in tails to the ends of your eyebrows. You don't need blush or mascara; you already have color to your cheeks and your eyelashes are very dark and long. You don't wear face makeup. You don't need it, and it would cover up your Marilyn Monroe beauty mark.
You slip into your pumps, and start redoing your nails in alternate black and very dark-almost black-purple. For the final touch, you spray on your Axe Anarchy (for Her), add a touch of glitter to your cheek, and take one last look in the mirror.
Drop. Dead. Gorgeous.
Since you still got an hour left, you begin to pack your bag. You don't bother with a backpack; you've got all the money you could ever ask for. Your parents adore you; they'll pay for everything. That's why you never do your homework or study. Hell, you could be a model. You've got the body for it. All you ever need to worry about is what you look like; it's actually more work than most people think. Every day when you get home, you run the treadmill, lift some weights, you drink plenty of water, and once a week you go to the spa-waxing, masks, baths, and when you come out, you're glowing. You spend a fortune on your clothes (at least your parents do).
It's a lot of hard work, but all of the parties, the friends, the boyfriends-it's all so worth it.
Well, usually, anyway. Like 9/10.
The clicking of your heels hitting the floor follows you when you head into the kitchen. You take your multivitamin and have a few glasses of water. Both of them are good for your skin, which is why you take them.
You don't have anything else to do, so you go into one of the spare rooms. It's for all of the old gaming systems you have. You keep them in here so they don't clash with your 48-inch plasma, PS3, Xbox 360 Kinect, iPad, laptop, and all of that other modern technology you have in your room. You're quite the video game addict; you have been since you were a child. In this room, you keep your Nintendo 64, your GameCube, and your PS2. Your PS Vita is in your room charging on your entertainment stand. You pull up a black bean back chair, and start playing Jak II.
You can't wait until your GameStop trip today. Your PS3 came with Ratchet and Clank: All 4 One, but you haven't gotten too far into it, just after the part where the Z'Grute attacks the city. You don't want any spoilers for the previous games, so you're going to go hit up GameStop for the first one, and so you don't get off track and get any spoilers for the first, you're only getting the first. You've needed to expand your gaming library for a while, anyway; you know, have more than Conker's Bad Fur Day and Mario.
When you hear a knock at the door, you switch off your PS2, and your butler (or nanny, as you call him), opens the door. "Are you ready?" He asks. He's a tall bugger, and if it wasn't for his receding hairline, he'd be cute. He has a wonderful smile, even though he's got no sense of humor.
"Almost," You say with a smile. You get your bag ready; it's black, with the design of an Avril Lavigne skull; you know, heart-shaped eye sockets, a bow, and a heart around the design. You make sure you have everything; all of your makeup, your Axe Anarchy, your hairbrush, and that little purple bag of toilet trees-floss, toothpaste, and a tooth brush. You have your phone and your iPod. That's everything. "I am ready." You smile.
Your nanny leads you out to your Mustang-at least, it will be yours when you can drive. Gawd, why are driving laws so strict? Well…then again, you are totally the type of person to text while you drive, so…maybe you'll just have this nanny of yours drive you around for the rest of your life. It's not that long of a drive to your school, which is actually the size of a college campus. There are seven buildings, a few trees, and it's the architecture of a castle. A school fit for a queen-for you. Queen Berri. It's got a lovely tone to it, doesn't it?
Your nanny pulls up to the curb, steps out, and opens your door. You grab your bag and make sure it's still attached to your shoulder and you get your sunglasses out of your compartment. With a confident smirk, you step out onto the sidewalk; your adoring public awaits.
You've got the ten minutes of homeroom first; attendance is taken, and the morning announcements come on the TV. They just talk about upcoming events, student council stuff, and a few fundraisers. You live in New York City, and your dad makes more than enough money to fuel your shopping habits. In fact, you might drop by the mall this weekend, and pick up some new makeup and clothes from Hot Topic.
The bell rings, and it's time for your first class: geometry. Then you have biology, then computer applications, lunch with your BFFLs, then English, then PE, history, and finally your favorite class music theory and then you go home.
Geometry is terrible; it's so boring, but hey, at least it's Friday. That's always a good sign. Friday, Friday, Friday. Then you go home, get ready for the party tonight, and whenever you get home, you can pass out and wake up ready to deal with any aftereffects of drugs and drinking. A hot shower and some pills (the medicine kind) will help you through any hangover.
Biology is not much better. Your teacher, Mr. Mackles (who's gotta be like ancient from all of the wrinkles and the total lack of hair) drones on and on about cells and how they work. You seriously almost fall asleep; and then he plays a video and then you really do fall asleep…which screws you over when he presents a pop quiz on the video you completely slept through. Oh well, you've failed too much to actually pass biology now, so what does one more failure matter?
During the quiz, you take your phone out and start texting that guy you were talking (and talking) to at that last party. He sends you a smiley and a heart, and you were about to send him a wink when Mr. Mackles catches you. "Berri, phone." He says sternly, not looking up from the papers he's grading on his desk.
You scowl at him. Stupid old man. Reluctantly, you put your phone on his desk.
Computer Apps is okay. You're working on that PowerPoint that's due next week. You have to use a bit of everything PowerPoint has to offer, like all of the graphics, transitions, fonts, and colors. You like your teacher Miss Eliz, so you do wanna do your best so her life is a little bit easier. She does let you listen to your iPod Touch when you're doing your work.
Finally, the bell rings for lunch. You save your work, grab your bag, and make a beeline for the lunchroom. You take your black card out, and the boys so nicely let you have the first spot in line. You just buy a small sandwich, because you already got a Monster and an Activia. A small lunch, perfect for keeping a small figure.
You scan the cafeteria, and find your friends by your table in the center, so everyone can look at you. "Berri," Linda calls, waving you over. She's like…your right-hand woman. Linda looks like Tiana from The Princess and the Frog, except she's dressed in red. She's got her curly hair up in a sassy side ponytail. She pats the seat next to her, and you smile, sitting down.
"So how was bio?" Kaitlyn asks, taking a sip of her cherry slushie. She looks like a Disney Princess too, except her hair goes all the way down her back and her eyes are a rich brown. She's a total animal lover, and she volunteers at the shelter.
You roll your eyes and groan. "Terrible. God, Mr. Mackles is so weird and boring. And he took my phone away!" Oh well. You'll just have your mom come down to the school and get it, and you still have Skype on your laptop.
Jenna laughs, looking up from filing her nails. "Texting again?" Her hands were like, made for texting. Small, and with sharp red nails. She does have Disney's Belle's brown hair, but it's in an adorable little pixie cut, and her eyes are blue and wide, like an owl's.
You scoff. "Like you haven't done it before." You take a bit of your Activia and then a sip of your Monster. You guys are always texting each other in class…until you get caught. None of you also ever do your homework. But if you're seriously that bored and really have nothing to do, then you might do some of your English or history homework.
"We still on for the party tonight?" Linda asks.
Oh right, that party at that warehouse downtown. Drinking, loud music, and far away where the cops won't bother you. Good thing too, 'cause guys there bring ecstasy. You might grab a bottle of vodka-Russian blood is defiantly dominant.
You smile. "Totes. Can't wait."
Kaitlyn taps your shoulder. "Be careful, Berri. Remember what happened last time." She warns.
She's right. Your ex-boyfriend, Caspian, made an appearance two weeks ago at your last party downtown. You dumped him because he was too obsessive and controlling. He didn't take it too well. Shame too, because he started out all dark and mysterious, and really sexy. Black hair, big blue eyes, and really a nice build. Really tall. He'd leave red roses that looked like they were from Beauty and the Beast on your window sill. That should've been a red flag, and it didn't even occur to you until after you dumped him that you never even told him where you live. Sadly, you couldn't tell your parents about that little incident, because they'd freak.
You were at a party sitting on that guy's lap (the one you were texting in class today), when he got up to get you a drink. Caspian grabbed you, and he pushed you up against a wall ad tried to drug you with a shot laced with something.
Lucky for you, Linda was like five feet away and saw the whole thing. Before she made a move, Luke beat the shit outta him. Somebody (you think the bartender) called the cops, and the place cleared out. Everybody who was still there were the ones that had watched the whole scene, and ratted out on Caspian, and you haven't seen him since.
Still, just in case, you guys set up some rules. Use the buddy system, go to the bathroom in groups, and never leave each other alone. You take turns about who's not allowed to drink at each party, so somebody's sober enough to drive or call for help should the need arise. Cell phones must be on person at all times. Luke, Dimitri (Kaitlyn's boyfriend), and Dustin (Jenna's boyfriend) or at least one of them need to be present, sorta like a bodyguard. If one of any of these conditions aren't met, none of you go. It's for safety.
And from the looks of it, everything's a green light for tonight. You need to feel happy. Your life has gotten…stressful. That's one way to put it.
The bell rings, and it's time for another dose of almost-daily almost-complete-hell.
Music theory is the only class you really enjoy. You love your teacher Miss Millers-she loves to joke, and she really knows how to actually make school fun. You always do all of the homework and ace the tests. You never get anything lower than an A in her class.
You hand in your homework in the inbox on her desk, and take your seat. Miss Millers stands up, and says, "Class, I hope you studied, because this is not an easy test." The rest of the class groans, but you just smirk, more than ready to take it. You actually bothered to study.
It is a really easy test…for you, anyway. You just needed half an hour (it was like 50 questions), and you hand in your test. You probably got a couple wrong like you always do (it's seriously only normal), but you know you aced it. You can't wait to get your test back. The rest of the hour passes by, and everyone else who hasn't already done so is forced to hand in their test if they don't wanna stay after school. It's nice to have music theory at the end of the day; it gives you something to look forward to.
You get up to leave so you get home and get ready for the party, when Miss Millers calls, "Berri." You turn your head towards her, and she gestures for you to come over as the rest of the class leaves.
You don't need to catch a bus. You aced the test and you actually did the homework. You can't be in trouble with her, and you can't exactly just run away. "Yes, Miss Millers?"
"Berri, I saw your report." Oh, shit. This is not a pleasant conversation, especially with her. She always looks so disappointed. "You did so well last year. I don't know what happened." Yes, she does. She knows exactly what happened; it was all over the news. "My class is the only one you did better than a 70 in. You're a smart girl, Berri. I don't know why you don't do better." Liar, liar, liar. Everyone knows why; that's why no one looks you in the eye.
You know exactly what happened. It was all your fault. It you hadn't been so stupid, it wouldn't have happened. You sigh. It's really none of her business. And honestly, what can she do? Nothing can change the past… "Don't worry about me." You say sternly. "Really. It's nothing."
"I know it's not nothing. Berri, I'm sorry about what happened, but you can't let grief control your life."
Things get quiet and eerie, until you turn away. Then things get cold. "It's not grief, it's guilt." She doesn't say a word as you shut the door behind. You stand there for a few minutes and soon enough, your nanny pulls up to the curb and opens the door for you. You get it, and you're silent the whole way home.
"I got problems up to here, I got people in my ear, telling me these crazy things that I don't wanna know."
-"Glamorous", Fergie
After getting home, you toss your bag onto your dresser, and start looking at your makeup. Still perfect. Your clothes and hair are more than fine too.
You call your nanny, who responds that he was already on his way to the car. You smile and run down the stairs, ready for GameStop. They always have time for a pretty girl like you! It's a short drive, but it's not short enough for you and your impatient self. You head to the stand that has the PS2 games and luckily, it's still in alphabetical order. You scroll through and find Ratchet and Clank 1.
You head to the counter, and take out your black card. The guy seems surprised; most girls like you don't exactly come in dressed like that and pay for a $6.99 game with a credit card. Nonetheless, you swipe in through, he puts your game in the bag, and your receipt comes out. You smile and wave goodbye before getting back into the car and start the drive home. You toss the bag into the recycling, put the receipt in your wallet which you toss onto your dresser, and put the game next to your PS2 in your old games room.
Since you still have time to kill, you log onto your Facebook, and update your status.
Going to a sweet party tonight. ;)
You check your Youtube for any new collegehumor videos, and then your Tumblr for any updates on Lollipop Chainsaw or any funny pictures. Nothing really that interesting.
You make sure to have an empty stomach, but you do fill up on water. Best way to deal with a hangover: drink plenty of water before you get drunk, and drink plenty of water after you get drunk.
After six o'clock rolls around, you head down the spiral staircase, more than ready to get wasted and high as you head into the kitchen. You're stunned to see your parents standing there, blocking the door.
"Berri," You are the spitting image of your mother. You've got all of her features, including her small nose and pale skin. "We know you've been looking forward to this party," You suddenly panic that she won't let you go. This party is all you've been talking about for the past week. You really don't want to have to sneak out. It'd piss your parents off, not to mention, ruin your clothes, hair, and possible your makeup too. "And we won't stop you, but…be careful."
You smile, relieved and your fear deflates like a balloon. No need to sneak out. Though, it would've been great for your image… "I will."
Your father, tall and with Russian facial features says, "And be home before the sun comes up."
You lean up and kiss his cheek, and hug your mom. "Don't worry, I will." They smile, obviously feeling better with your promise to be careful and to be home before dawn, and you disappear into the night, closing the door behind you.
You get into the car, and the engine revs up when your driver puts the pedal to the metal. You start thinking that maybe you should've asked your mom to borrow her phone. You don't have yours, and that is one of the rules…but really, as long as Caspian's away, and you stay with your friends, you'll be fine. They'll all have your phones, there's no reason to worry, you tell yourself.
Half an hour later with the lights of the city become more distant and finally not visible as you continue to drive, the car pulls up to the warehouse and you immediately spot your friends and their boyfriends waiting by the door. They grin and wave and you hurry over to meet them.
"You ready?" Kaitlyn asks.
You smirk and nod. "I'm always ready." The thought of not having your phone keeps nagging at you in the back of your mind. Nothing a bit of drinking and drugs won't fix.
You stroll on in, and it feels like every heard in the room turns to look at you. Music makes the walls vibrate and smoke and glitter cover the floor. There are glow sticks and rings and neon pink, blue, and green lights. It's like an underground rave. There are couches and tables, and singing, screaming, shouting, and laughing.
You smile, and enjoy the stares. Really, how could anyone not look? You're gorgeous; designer clothes, perfect makeup, and an intimidating stare that says "Don't fuck with me."
You need this, more than usual, with Miss Millers' words circling around in your head. Caspian has seriously thrown you out. You head for the mini-bar in the corner of the warehouse. The guy behind the counter smiles, says a "hey Berri", and hands you an apple martini; he knows it's your favorite. You smile, and walk away, looking for that guy with the ecstasy. You spot him in the corner, hidden in the shadows away from the lights. You wave to him, and he grins. You walk over to him, and he hands you two pills wrapped in yellow with pink hearts.
Yes.
You can't hear the crinkling of the wrapper as you remove it, and the paper halls to the ground. You wash down the pills with the martini, and soon enough, that airy, empty-heart feeling fills your chest. You feel like you can fly. All of that misery you were feeling is gone. All of the bad feelings-guilt, pain, shame, regret- vanish.
"First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, and then the drink takes you."
-Unknown
You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you see that it's Linda. "Berri," She says. She hasn't had anything yet; you can tell, because you can't smell alcohol on her breath. You laugh, that empty "I'm-obviously-on-drugs" laugh that doesn't mean anything except that you're high. "Berri, this isn't the way to deal with things. I know what happened hurts, but drugs and drinking aren't the answer."
You latch onto her shoulder and cackle out, "How do I feel this good sober?" It's from that song that you can't really remember right now. But you don't want to hear any of that crap right now. You've heard it too many times today. You stumble away from her, and collapse on a couch. You look up to see Linda sitting there, with her boyfriend standing close by. You can count on her, huh? You really should trust her more.
I don't wanna be the girl who laughs the loudest,
Or the girl who never wants to be alone.
I don't wanna be that call at four o'clock in the mornin',
'Cause I'm the only one you know in the world that won't be home.
Ah, the sun is blindin'.
I stayed up again.
Oh, I am findin',
That's not the way I want my story to end.
I'm safe up high,
Nothing can touch me,
But why do I feel this party's over?
No pain inside,
You're my protection.
But how do I feel this good sober?
I don't wanna be the girl that has to fill the silence.
The quiet scares me 'cause it screams the truth.
Please don't tell me that we had that conversation,
'Cause I won't remember.
Save your breath,
'Cause what's the use?
Ah, the night is callin',
And it whispers to me softly, "Come and play."
But I am fallin',
And if I let myself go,
I'm the only one to blame.
I'm safe up high,
Nothing can touch me.
But why do I feel this party's over?
No pain inside,
You're like perfection.
But how do I feel this good sober?
Comin' down, comin' down, comin' down,
Spinnin' 'round, spinnin' 'round, spinnin' 'round,
I'm lookin' for myself sober.
Comin' down, comin' down, comin' down,
Spinnin' 'round, spinnin' 'round, spinnin' 'round,
Lookin' for myself sober.
When it's good, then it's good, it's so good 'til it goes bad.
'Til you're trying to find the you that you once had.
I have heard myself cry 'never again',
Broken down in agony, just tryin' find a friend, oh, oh.
I'm safe up high,
Nothing can touch me.
But why do I feel this party's over?
No pain inside,
You're like perfection.
But how do I feel this good sober?
I'm safe up high,
Nothing can touch me.
But why do I feel this party's over?
No pain inside,
You're like perfection.
But how do I feel this good sober?
"Berri," You've been lying on the couch, just thinking about the words and the pain and the suffering, when Jenna's voice reaches your brain. "Berri, it's starting to pour. And you said you had to be home before the sun comes up right?" You must've been spouting out everything that happened today, including your father's order to come home before sunrise. "Well, it'll be hard to tell when sunrise is or was, and I think you need to get home." Wow, Jenna's there for you too? You never knew…
She grabs your hands and pulls you to your feet. She gives you a stern look. "Berri, we heard you yell out that you didn't have a phone on you. You could've asked your mom or your dad to borrow one of theirs. You broke one of the rules, Berri. What if something bad had happened?"
You give a drunk laugh, and say, "D-Don't worry so much Jenna. See? I'm fine."
Kaitlyn (when did she get here?) rolls her eyes. "Berri, if we hadn't been here watching over you, you probably wouldn't be. This place is out of drugs and booze already; you're wasted and high, and we're all going home."
You giggle. "Okay."
Linda grabs your head and then an umbrella that was by the door. She springs it out, and it keeps you dry while she sends a text. "Good thing I got your nanny's number, after last time." Oh right. She put her nanny's cell phone number into her phone, just in case you didn't have your phone. In a few minutes, your nanny pulls up in his sleek black car, and you get into the back with Kaitlyn's help. You see their parents' cars coming up too. You look into the mirror, and your eyeliner and eyeshadow is all over your face in streaks. You were crying. You'll wash your makeup off in the morning, screw it. Your skin will survive.
You fall over on your back and pass out.
You wake up about half an hour later, and stumble out of the car and up the stairs, tripping a few times on your heels and wet from the rain. It's starting to lightning outside. You're not tired…you're in that hazy state between being hungover and still drunk, so you go into your old games room and plug into your PS2. Ratchet and Clank is there where you left it; it's storming terribly outside. The wind is howling through the trees, the rain is slamming against your windows, and a bright light flashes in the sky. You should be sleeping; it's after midnight. And you really shouldn't be messing with anything metal when it's lightning outside, but you've been doing things you shouldn't all night, haven't you?
You turn it on, but nothing shows. You curse, not remembering to keep your inside voice when you shout out, "Goddamn piece of shit!" You honestly don't care if your parents hear you; really, who gives a fuck? Your life is already spiraling downwards anyway.
You pull on a plug just as light flashes outside, and you a hot, white, agonizing pain go through your left arm (since you are a leftie), and knock your forward, the pain spreading through your entire body. Everything goes black for a few minutes and it feels like you're spinning around when you finally come to. Since when were you standing…?
Wow, you're really drunk. You defiantly passed out, because you're not in your room. You're standing on the side of some facility, with giant robots that look like the one from The Jetsons popping out and going down a conveyer belt. You're so dizzy and disoriented. Yep, you're still drunk.
"Ma'am, are you alright?" A little voice asks. Now you're 100% positive you're still high. You see Clank standing below, coming up around your knee.
You smile and nod, "Yeah, just a little disoriented." You hear a noise behind you, and you turn to see some little robot. What is that? You and Clank walk over to investigate, and you don't know what the hell to think of what you saw. It's just…too messed up, even by your standards. And you do some messed up things.
Clank puts the robot away in his compartment, just as one of the giant security robots is standing over you. You certainly can't fight, and neither can Clank (as far as you know anyway), so as Clank slides between his legs, you go around him while the robot is distracted. You head down the metal slide (which is more painful than it sounds), screaming…really loud. You land behind Clank in some ship, and since neither of you have any fucking idea just what the hell is going and don't have any better ideas, he presses a button and starts it up.
The ship takes off, with two others close behind. God, you wish you knew how to pilot this damn thing! Clank seems okay-he avoids the first two couple of shots (you could use a shot)-but they must've locked onto you, because one of them fires, and doesn't miss. You smell smoke and fire, and you resume screaming as the ship spirals towards some planet.
Well, at least you're drunk and this is all a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.
The ship and the ground finally collide, and everything goes black once more; all you register is someone's voice saying something, and the smell of smoke and fire, which brings back the worst memories…
Okay, so that's chapter one. It's 12 pages long, and over 5,000 words. I should feel proud of myself; I do prefer really long chapters. So yeah, this is gonna be a mature story, and it's defiantly PG13, rated T for teen, whatever you wanna call it. Unless you're in high school, you really shouldn't be reading this. But hey, do what you want.
