Wrong Door
It was raining. The girl sighed and looked back at her bathroom mirror, not stopping brushing her teeth. I like the rain, why does it annoy me today? She thought to herself. There were a number of reasons that made sense to her. Maybe she had finally begun to hate rain. Maybe it's because she had to walk 25 minutes to the bus stop for her daily commute to her university. Maybe it was just her hatred of this day. Mornings were always challenging for her but she knew they always brightened up eventually.
Thirty minutes later it was still raining. So now she stood, shivering, in the pouring rain, begging to any god that would listen and make her bus early for once. From then it was only a near hour of jerky stops, grouchy businessmen and half-dead commuters. The soft tinkle of music whispered to her, drowning out the noise of all other people. It was a lifeline and bodyguard between her and them.
Suddenly, her seat row jolted and all she could see was springs of blonde curls and she rolled her eyes at her friend's enthusiastic arrival. Zeke grinned "Hey Rosie, Rosie, Rosie." She let a faint smile leak onto her face. Zeke was infectious; anything he said or did drew smiles to everyone's faces. He was magnetic and she... wasn't. "So, what ya listening to? Anything good? Preferably sung in English si vous plait?" Rosalie smiled again. "I have three songs in Japanese and suddenly I don't listen to good or English songs," She murmured, turning to stare out of the window at the rain pouring down the bus windows. Zeke shook his head. "Have you got any good music then? Black-eyed peas or Rihanna or Maroon 5?" He didn't wait for an answer as he pulled her IPod out of her pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through her songs, oblivious to the death glare he was getting from her. Soon he found a song he liked, saying "Awesome," as he clicked it, and yanking one of her headphones out to listen to the music as well. For once, Zeke was silent both students calmly listening to the music, both silently dreading the moment they arrived at university.
"Now, as you all know human insulin is a crucial hormone..." It was only the start of her lecture but already the professor's monotone droning had made Rosalie switch off. Instead a flower pattern began spiralling over her notebook page, twisting and turning, as if it were climbing up a wall. Professor Morton usually read off a PowerPoint slides, meaning about 75% of his class and tuned out, sneakily checking their Facebook accounts behind their binders. Of their three teachers, Professor Morton was probably the worst. Biochemistry had seemed interesting and most of the professors were great but Morton... wasn't. These times were used to draw or doze off.
Suddenly, the setting began to change, her classmates beginning to shift and morph. A gust of wind swept through the hall, an invisible force of nature. Ed Richards started fading, like the words on Morton's PowerPoint until he was transparent, speckles of him racing around the hall. The wind became wilder, lashing out like a caged animal, its roar hiding the professor's words. As she imagined it, the wind shaped itself like a tiger, slightly darker swirls for stripes, giant golden eyes that churned like storm clouds. It prowled the room, occasionally attacking loose paper or hair, a distraction like no other. Then, it noticed her. The tiger stopped sniffing at Ella MacDonald's hair, those giant orbs of gold turning to her. Gold met green and with the casual gait of a natural predator, it took its first steps forward. His footfalls were silent, the only sound was his brethren roaring, circling around the two of them, an age-forgotten, animalistic ritual. The tiger was so close to her, she could feel the hair on her neck raising, her green eyes forever watching the predator's movement, feeling the vibrations as it circled around her chair, the hot breath on her neck. It looped around her again, until their eyes met and Rosalie raised an eyebrow at it, a small smirk on her face. The tiger opened its mouth, accepting her unspoken challenge and drew in breath to roar.
"Rosalie Mayfair!" A man shouted and both Rosalie's and the tiger's head shot up, just before the tiger disappeared like sand in the wind. Rosalie craned her head around to see a small vent on the ceiling, letting air waft over her face and neck and then looked over at Professor Morton. Her professor was an older gentleman in his late 50s with receding hair and the amazing capability of turning purple, like he was doing now. "Can you answer my question, Miss Mayfair?" There was silence as Rosalie blinked at him, the rest of his class stunned at the unexpected behaviour. Rosalie flushed and looked down, picking at loose threads on her jumper desperately. "N-no," She stammered quietly, heart thumping. She could feel the heat pouring off her cheeks and didn't look up even when she heard her classmate's snickers. "I can't hear you Miss Mayfair." Professor Morton's voice boomed from the front of the hall and Rosalie swore she could hear a smirk in his voice. "Speak up." "No, I can't-t answer your question." Rosalie's voice trembled and she felt herself going a similar shade to Professor Morton. If he wasn't smirking before, he defiantly was now. "Just as I thought, you weren't paying attention, were you? This is a hard course and you need to listen if you wish to pass it and eventually get an actual job that contributes to society. Rosalie Mayfair, get your head out of the clouds."
By lunchtime, the rain had stopped, grey clouds giving idle threats to those underneath. Rosalie sat on the stone steps outside the main hall of the university, hunched over her sketchbook, in case it should start raining again. Beneath her pencil a beautiful tree started to appear; the kind you would find at the heart of a forest, larger than any you had seen before and the immenseness and beauty of it would strike you. The pencil was hovering over the page, searching for an area that needed editing when someone started whispering her name. Gently, quietly, sinisterly. Someone else joined in, a haunting harmony that chilled her to the bone. Slowly her head turned to find Zeke and Abby inches from her, crouching down, wearing matching victorious grins. Abby suddenly stood up, brushing off imaginary dirt from her jeans and fluffing her flawless hair. "You're finished. Good. We can finally go to lunch." Abby beamed and Zeke grabbed his stomach moaning, pretending to lean on Abby for support. "Do you hear that Rosie? Feed me, Feed me." Rosalie smiled and shook her head, trying to look casual but Zeke looked down at her seriously. "Stomach's shouldn't talk, Rosie. This is very bad. Come on, it is time to hunt." He clapped his hands and wrung them, trying to look like a movie villain. Rosalie smiled at his antics and let Abby grab her hands to pull her down the stairs and onto the street, linking arms as they went. A double-decker bus trundled past filled with lunchtime passengers, the golden tiger winking at her from the tail lights.
Twenty minutes later, they were sat in their favourite cafe. It was on a side street off the main square so many people didn't realise its existence. Everything was white and beige with comfy, homey pillows and sofa benches. Rosalie was sat in a window booth, with Zeke and Abby sat opposite her. Zeke was munching his way through a turkey sandwich while Abby nattered on about her professor's and other students. Occasionally, Zeke nodded while Rosalie made affirmative noises, careful not to look at each other or they would both burst into giggles. "Soooooo," Abby drew out the 'o', like she was sucking on a straw, "There is this guy I know." Rosalie looked her dead in the eye. "No." "You haven't even met him! He is just your type!" Abby protested, "His name is Alex and he's doing a literature course. He's kinda quiet like you; he's hot and likes reading and all that manga that you're into as well!" "No, Abby! I don't want to be set up with someone I've never met! If I want to date someone, I shall find them by myself!" There was a short silence at Rosalie's sudden outburst as Abby sat; gobsmacked and Zeke had looked up from his sandwich. "I'm only trying to help." Abby huffed and the trio spent the rest of their lunch in silence, as Abby muttered obscenities under her breath and Rosalie wished she had never opened her mouth.
Even though Professor Morton had given her hell, Rosalie still went back to University, readying herself for her next class. She had Professor Giles next and he was far nicer. Instead of being sat in a lecture theatre, they were in a science lab. They weren't doing a practical but Professor Giles preferred it in the labs. The desks were arranged in lines and Rosalie took her usual seat near the window on the middle row. Slowly, her classmates descended in twos and threes, taking their places around the lab and away from Rosalie and her desk. Around 10 minutes after everyone else came in; Professor Giles bustled in, carrying a stack of papers that came over his head. Professor Giles was a small man, who was a little bit older than Professor Morton with a grey beard shot with silver and big brown eyes, made even bigger by the thick glasses that perched on his nose. A flash of dread flickered through Rosalie's body as she realised the papers were their essays they had written the week before, marked and graded. He started handing them out and Rosalie listened to the excited murmurs as her classmates received the grades they'd wanted. When Professor Giles reached her, he hesitated before setting down. "You need to try harder Rosalie. Focus is key and you seemed to lose it part way through this question. It needs to be a lot better next time, and I mean a lot." He murmured while Rosalie kept her eyes fixed on the grade. E. Everyone else had gotten Bs and As and she had a lousy E under her belt. Ed Richards turned around to see it and snorted at it, brandishing his A* paper in her face. Professor Giles made his way back to the front and cleared his throat and clapped his hands, quelling any whisperings. "Right now, settle down and we'll begin. Ah, Sam! Hand out the textbooks and turn to page 90. We're starting a new chapter today..."
The grey clouds at lunch had been true to their threats as it poured when she finally got out of class. Professor Giles had asked her to stay and 'talk' about her course and Rosalie had promised to try and work harder in future. However, in those 15 minutes, he had managed to set her another essay question and three different work sheets, to make sure she understood the work so far. She sighed as she looked up to the heavens, rain drops exploding as they hit the pavement and pulled the hood of her gilet over her head and tried to angle her folder, so the paper inside wouldn't get wet. As she walked back to the bus stop, she had a nagging feeling she was forgetting something important and didn't realise it until she heard a familiar rumble. She turned and watched in shock as her bus trundled around the corner and stopped at her bus stop, at the other end of the street. Without instructions, her legs jumped into action before the rest of her, trying to get the rest of her through the throng of people in the streets and get to her bus before it left. She burst through the crowds and kept running, desperately hoping someone would slow the bus's progress down. Her brain was screaming at her, telling her to hurry, that she was almost there. Rosalie could swear she felt her heart drop as the bus started pulling away. "No, no, no, no, no!" With each word, her voice raised and she was at the doors of the bus but it was too late. Inside, she could feel the other passengers smirking at her, silently enjoying her punishment. She watched the bus, all the way until it disappeared from sight, and shivered, drawing her arms around and hugging her folder to her chest. Rosalie started walking, knowing that that bus was the last one on the route and she had several miles to walk back to her little flat.
Rosalie knew she was a sorry sight to see. She was drenched and her body shook with every shiver and she made a mental note to buy a better coat. Underneath her gilet was a jumper but it had gotten soaked as well, the water seeping through the layer, onto her top below that. Her feet and legs ached from the cold and walking the three and a bit miles to catch another bus that dropped her off about another mile from her home. Her hands trembled as she fished through her pockets, hoping she hadn't left her keys somewhere. Even when she had found them, the key skidded across the metal around the lock. Finally she had the door unlocked and she turned the handle. And nothing happened. Rosalie frowned and she turned again, pushing the door a little and still it wouldn't budge. She shoved the door with all her might and it swung open, and Rosalie almost fell, if she wasn't still holding the handle and almost immediately she noticed something different.
From inside the doorway, warmth flooded over her. But it wasn't the stifling heat of the radiator next to the door, but the cool warmth of a summer evening. That wasn't the only difference. Her front door had suddenly become thicker and darker in colour with small grooves from where branches were once. Instead of the mustard yellow carpet, there were smooth grey stones and Rosalie felt like she was entering a castle. Inside the room, instead of a rickety set of stairs, there was a thick wooden table, covered in papers and what looked like... Scrolls? Strange... Rosalie wandered but all thoughts fled her when she looked around properly. There were three people in the room, previously staring at the paper...scroll thingies but looked up at her arrival, staring at her with shock and anger. They all had long hair and ...dresses? But one had a silver beard with a matching floppy hat. Inside, was an awkward silence as they all stared at one another, seeming to be waiting for something to happen. And there were very few things Rosalie could find to say. "Err... Hi." There was no verbal response but three pairs of eyebrows knitted together. "You know what? I'm probably hallucinating. Yeah... I'm pretty tired and I'm just gonna leave." One of the men spoke up when she started to turn. He spoke in a language that seemed to roll off his tongue like water, but not even his velvet language could hide the anger and confusion. He had raven black hair and grey eyes that strangely went with his violet robes. A short silence later made both Rosalie and violet robes guy realise they couldn't understand each other. He switched to a language which sounded rougher than the first one and Rosalie just blinked at him with a feeling of dread setting in. Before, she had believed that she was dreaming, just another of her fantasies. Now, she was realising that this strange scene was real and Rosalie was beginning to feel panicky. She might never get home, she realised and a jolt of pain shocked through her system. She might never see Zeke or Abby or her Aunts. She was going to be stuck here, in a place that didn't speak English. As her internal revelations happened, she almost missed the arguments between the violet robes man and the grandfather figure. They were arguing in that velvet language while the other dark haired man chipped in occasionally, but mainly stared at her, his dark blue eyes unreadable. The man in the violet robes said something and the man with the blue eyes turned to him. Taking this opportunity, Rosalie inched her way back up to the still open door. The elderly man's head shot up and shouted something at her and Rosalie froze as the two other men turned and glared at her. "Sorry, wrong room!" Rosalie shouted and swung the door hard, shutting them in the room and her out of it.
A.N- Thanks for reading! I know this is a little short compared to other LOTR fanfics but, bear with! Please review, I want to know how to improve it. I'll try and update soon, I'm aiming for every ten days. I'll also write other fanfics and upload them as well. Anyway... Bye! :D