Vanellope's eyes flickered open as she realized she was lying on the ground with her face pressed against the dirt. She sat up finding out she was extremely stiff all over. Vanellope was in the middle of an enormous field, but there was no color.
This was unlike any game Vanellope had ever seen. It looked so real, but colorless a world of grey. A chilly wind passed by and for a second Vanellope was startled by it. She hadn't experienced hard or even calm gusts of air like here.
What was she doing here?
She tried to remember how she had gotten there and why she was lying on the ground, but there seemed to be nothing in her mind. It was like she had opened the cabinet to her memory and found it completely empty.
She looked around anxiously, hoping to find someone or something that would help her remember but there was nothing. Just the wild grass all around her, the large trees and above her a gigantic space of sky that had the color of bruised flesh.
She didn't like the look of it. It seemed to have a bad aura. Panic and fear took over her, like red code seeping through her body. She brought up her knees to her chest and sat very still and concentrated. Come on, think! How did you get here?
But it was all to no avail. She stood up, feeling the need to stop the sickening feeling from growing. She balled her hands into tiny fists and told herself, just be patient. It will get to me. Ok. So what do I know? She sat there for a while, thinking of all the possible things that came to her mind. Oh! My name is Vanellope! Ok, so what next? Nothing. That was it. The only thing she could remember. Her name was Vanellope. She grasped her jet black hair and pulled at it, breathing heavily. This isn't possible. She had to remember something. If she could just think of one thing, she was certain everything would come tumbling back. If she could just make a start. . .