The Plot Twister- A Blessing and A Curse
Rosaline Celine Samuel. The name was carefully written on the upper right-hand side of a crisp, blank piece of college ruled notebook paper. Of course, because the sheet belonged to Rosaline Samuel, it did not stay blank for long. Even on the first day of 10th grade, in her very first class, Advanced Placement Language Arts 1, her mind strayed away from her teacher's sharply annunciated words. Her hand moved to her pencil, and she sketched a small scene of rather peculiar events as quickly as she could. Based on the expressions of the two kids next to her, they had noticed her sketching and were more than a bit annoyed. Although it might seem surprising, Rosaline herself felt annoyed. She was sketching for a reason- to help her understand something. But she wished that she didn't have to. If only she'd been normal, there would've been no reason for her to have kept whipping out her pencil to draw the strange things that she saw in her mind.
This problem was not new to her- in fact she had been aware of it for as long as she could remember. Although she didn't think of it as a problem until a few years ago, and this is why. From the moment she could walk and play on her own, It was apparent to everyone around her that Rosaline Samuel had a very strong imagination. It was really quite cute the way she pranced around with her dolls, making them partake in wild adventures, and creating heartbreaking dramas with her stuffed bears. She would make up songs, draw extravagant scenes on the walls with markers, pretend to be her favorite movie characters, and spend a lot of time just laying around and daydreaming. On the other hand, she loved climbing things, attempting gymnastic moves that no 4 year old should be attempting, running around pretending to be in a sword fight with the trees, and doing anything that involved throwing or kicking something. She was just as much a rambunctious athlete as a daydreamer with her head in the clouds. Daydreaming, of course, was something that she soon found out was not a common pastime of most kids her age. At least not her kind of daydreaming.
When Rosaline loved something- a book, a movie, a TV show, a musical, or any other form of a story, she could...well...capture it. She would remember all of the best parts, picture the characters and their faces, voices, and surroundings perfectly, and continue the story in her mind as if it had never stopped. For Rosaline, the movie never ended at the credits, the book always continued after the last page, and the song could play over and over again in her head as many times as she wanted it to until she couldn't stand to hear it anymore. When she began to daydream she felt quite literally as if she had entered another world, where she was subconsciously in charge of everything that happened. Her surroundings melted away, and she would enter a sort of trance full of whatever story she was dreaming about, whenever she felt like it. She could make the characters say and do whatever she wanted, and if she didn't like it, she could just erase it and start it over again. It was as if she was right there, quietly watching the scenes as an unseen shadow. One time, when she was about 10 years old, she imagined a post movie orc-fighting scene from Lord of the Rings so intensely and vividly that she began to feel as if she were about to be fully wrapped into the daydream. She felt like it was pulling her in, the battle around her became clearer and louder, she was being slowly enveloped by the story that she created. She grew anxious and thought she wouldn't be able to return to herself in the real world. She began to have a panic attack that resulted in hyperventilation, and she couldn't snap out of it until her parents shook her awake and took her to the hospital, believing she was having some sort of fit or seizure. Of course she didn't reveal what was really happening, it was all too strange. Until then, her supernatural vivid imagination was a gift that brought her happiness whenever she needed it. But after that, it slowly began to become something uncontrollable and inescapable.
Rosaline was frightened by her sudden inability to escape or enter her daydreams easily/controllably, and began to limit herself from them. She stopped imagining all of the in between scenes to her favorite TV shows and had to restrain herself from accidentally slipping into one of her daydreams while reading, which is something that she had let herself do without guilt all the time before the frightening orc-battle incident. The problem was that the more she fought it, the harder it was to avoid slipping away into the many complex stories that she had created over the years. The length of her extended story from The Hobbit had become so long that it would have been equivalent to 2 more movies, and her Harry Potter stories could be at least 5. She could remember each perfectly and replay them in her mind as much as she wanted. It was as if her imagined stories were trying to take over her life and were beckoning her to leave her normal life behind her completely in order to finally complete their stories. But how could she truly complete them without becoming trapped? The whole thing gave her immense anxiety and stress and made her more careful than ever to avoid books and movies, which caused her to suffer even more. At 12 years old, sports and training became everything in her life, because it was the only thing that kept the pull of her imagination at bay. Although it pained her to the very core of her being to fight her imagination, she knew that she had to do it. Deep down, she knew that giving in to herself could put her in danger. It was very confusing for her, and still is. But she wants to know what it means.
"Rosaline, please put that paper away. We will not need to write anything until tomorrow." Her instructor said suddenly, breaking her out of her rapid sketching. "Right." said Rosaline, flustered. She shoved her paper into her backpack quickly to avoid stares from the rest of the class, but her speed only made her more noticeable. Luckily, she was used to stares. Rosaline was special in more ways than her imagination. Her appearance was usually referred to as either "stunning", "lovely", or like an "elegant, beautiful warrior"- but only her best friend Pfeiffer ever called her that. It was fairly uncommon to come across a beautiful girl in her part of Kansas, and it was especially rare to find one that was also highly intelligent, noticeably strong, clever and quick-witted, wise beyond her years, and very humble. The first thing you noticed about her when you met her were her sparkling gray-blue eyes, her shoulder length naturally sun-bleached and slightly wavy blonde hair, her rosy cheeks, and a cute dimple on only the left side of her face that accompanied her lovely smile. Her lips were sweet, pink, and cupid bowed, and her perfectly soft skin still seemed to glow without a single flaw or blemish. She always wore a pendant around her neck made out of a piece of smooth, gray stone with a purple gem embedded in the center that nobody seemed to recognize, but everyone seemed to be transfixed by. In the center of the front of the Gem, ROSALINE was carved in impeccable, shining, curly lettering. Each letter had a certain glow to it, that made the whole necklace seem ethereal.
It was hard not to just stare at the extravagant pendant instead of her face, but not long after you saw her face and necklace, you immediately noticed her toned, strong upper body and her long, gazelle -like legs. You knew that she was both a very kind and gentle person, but also a force to be reckoned with. Her athletic build showed her hard work and the slight grin and glint in her eye that showed up when she was challenged was enough to both scare the boys at her school, and make them feel suddenly attracted to her at the same time. She was certainly a very interesting person to know, or if you didn't know her, it was hard not to look at her. There was a certain charm about her that you couldn't quite put your finger on, but it unmistakable. Her parents were very proud of her- everyone was. Rosaline put a lot of focus into having a fulfilling life full of service, and loved and cared about everyone around her. She wanted to have a fulfilling life because she wasn't sure how long it would be before she was fully pulled out of it. She felt that it was only a matter of time before her imagination took her away...
After 45 more minutes of going through the syllabus in AP Language Arts, Rosaline was ready to find Pfeiffer to talk to her about what her mind just did. The problem was, Pfeiffer Linnia Donovan went to a different school, across town. She would have to wait until she was home, away from curious, judgemental ears. She got through the rest of the day in agony, her mind reeling with possible explanations to the things that her hand drew that morning. She could barely focus on her new instructors, and her reunions with last years friends were short and distracted. Everyone could tell that something was bothering her, but nobody ever new what it was. It would've been easier to help her if SHE knew what it was. But nobody could help Rosaline, and what she was slowly finding out is that she might be the only one who can help herself. Nobody else has access into her own brain, into her world, her stories, her second life that she fights so hard to avoid.
"Rosy, are you alright? You seem a bit… dazed." The voice of her close friend Cal (Calardan) Mitchell Teller suddenly snapped her out of her anxious trance. She hadn't even realized that the bell had rung, signaling that she could go home at last. "Sorry to scare you, I just didn't know if you realized that the bell had rung." She gave him a thankful smile and said "Thanks Cal, I've just been a bit off today. Not used to being back in school I suppose." She said with fake assurance. Cal stared at her with his penetrating brown eyes, ran a hand across his sharp jawline, and shook his head in a way that made his light brown, straight hair cover his left eye, and gave her an I don't believe that look, but she didn't have time to talk to him, nor did she want to reveal the true problem. "I'm really fine, see you later." She said, trying to sound more convincing since he didn't seem to buy her last tone of voice. Cal did seem a bit concerned about her, and she hasn't seen him in 2 weeks so she'd truly like to talk with him soon, but now is not the time. He started conditioning for fall swim team a week before school started because he made varsity this year, and the week before he had been in Aruba with his dad Alan Teller, his Step-mom, Stacy Davis-Teller, and their son- his stepbrother- Kevin Teller, who is 8. That's why she hadn't been able to see him until now. He and his step brother and mom aren't very close but he probably enjoyed himself. She hadn't bothered to ask. With that she stood up, grabbed her things, and walked out the door of her Honors Chemistry with quick, smooth strides, leaving Cal behind her, watching her go. She got to her bike, flung her backpack over her shoulder and tied the straps around her chest, and then sat for a moment just to breathe.
People were flooding out of the door to her right, thrilled to be out of the school after a long day with no breaks. Rosaline felt that way times ten, especially because of her constant desire to be in nature, to get away from her confusing life. Luckily for her, it was hard to get away from nature here. Her school backed up to a great stretch of woods, with the roads on the opposite side. Rosaline's path home was through the trees and into a very quiet, beautiful area full of woods and flat, grassy land. Her parents, Clyde and Marielle, and her two siblings, Daniel Kenton Samuel, who is 10, and Margot Leanne Samuel, who is 8, live on 20 acres of their own, private, lovely wooded land that serves as Rosaline's only escape from her confusing life. Her sanctuary to think, to sing, to climb, to run, to do anything she wants. But the land wasn't the only great part. Her home was lovely, large and comfortably luxurious. It was large with a modern rustic style with aesthetically pleasing stonework, large windows, huge wooden beams and arches, and generally a very warm and homey feel. She loved everything about her home, and just thinking about it gave her legs a burst of extra energy.
She pedaled quickly, almost to the point of being able to see the top of her house, but just as she could see the tip of her roof her eyes seemed to blur out of focus and her mind began to buzz. The quietness of the afternoon grew louder, and she knew what was happening. But it had never hit her so quickly, with so much...force… all she knew was that she needed to get off of her bicycle and sit down immediately. She practically leapt off of her bike and then sat leaning against a tree, losing her sight of this world with every second that passed. A snail crawled onto her hand but she couldn't move it. She thought that she knew what was happening, but couldn't stop it. Her world slipped away, and it felt like her body had just entered a new setting- but where? What was going on? She could no longer feel the ground beneath her or the tree supporting her back. The snail was still on her but it was the only remnant of her surroundings that she had. She felt like she was floating in nothingness, she couldn't smell hear, or see anything. And then suddenly she heard a voice, calling from the blackness- "Aye, Erebor's in sight! Our homeland my boy, our homeland…" This gruff male voice was then replaced by a multitude of voices and the sound of hundreds of thumping footsteps. "I see the mighty gate! Keep up now Warlin!" and "Stop drinking all that water, it will still be near an hour until we can finally rest." and "MUM he just kicked my leg again! Make him walk with the horses!" were heard clearly, meaning that the speakers had to have been nearby her. But she couldn't see anything but fuzzy darkness, and her limbs didn't seem to want to move or feel anything.
Rosaline was sure that at any point now her vision would clear and she would either see the unfamiliar scene that she hears right now, or she would see actuality- the damp dirt underneath her in familiar woods in front of her house, right next to her light blue bike that now laid on the ground, wheels probably still spinning slowly. She hoped for the latter, but the voices were growing louder and she was beginning to have sensations that would surely not be happening in actuality. She had begun to perspire, heavily. Sweat ran like a fountain down her face and she suddenly felt as if 40 pounds had been dropped onto her back. Her hands began to slowly blister, and to her surprise, she could see them. Usually when she entered her imagination, she was there only as an invisible pair of eyes, silently watching the scenes unfold without any presence in the room. When she looked down, she couldn't see herself, because she wasn't really there. She was only there in thought. This is why it scared her that she was suddenly able to see her own body, even though her surroundings were not returning to actuality, but instead deeper into her imagination. But this time it didn't seem like her imagination…
Panicking, she watched watched the palms of her hands and gritted her teeth as 4 large red calluses sprung out of the top of her right and left palms, stinging and throbbing. The heavy weight on her back seemed to grow about 10 pounds heavier, and her muscles began to ache as if she had been working out for hours. Even her clothes began to change… her floral, knee length, cold-shoulder lilac dress began to transform to a much darker, thicker, brown wrap dress that was tied at her waist with some kind of leather, braided cord. As tough as the material was, it was quite comfortable. But this only distracted her stressed mind for a second as the rest of her clothes either faded away or morphed into something completely unfamiliar. Her shining white converse high tops turned into ankle wrap sandals with thin, soft cords that magically wrapped around her ankles about a quarter of the way up her shins. Leather forearm guards that laced up to her elbow, made of the same thick material as her dress, strung themselves onto her wrists and arms, although the snail on her hand was still slithering across her skin, completely oblivious. Her hair, in its usual beach waves suddenly straightened and fell about an inch lower on her shoulders. She grabbed desperately at the one thing that hadn't altered itself yet- her necklace. Its leather cord matched strangely well with the rest of the leather laces incorporated into her rapidly changing outfit, which puzzled her, but what puzzled her more was that it didn't seem to be changing at all. Instead, her vision seemed to be changing. The voices around her were growing louder still and the weight she felt on her back had not left her, but now the weight seemed to be an actual object of some kind instead of just pressure, and the aching muscles in her legs seemed to be moving somehow. She wasn't in control of anything but her head and her eyes- trying to move her limbs was useless. So she had no choice but to watch as a new world unfolded right before her eyes.
At first what she saw looked like large, bouncing, glowing, orange stars, swaying through the darkness, and then she saw the faint outline of something- trees, or a mountain range of some kind to her right. She felt as if she were waiting for the image on a polaroid picture to show up. Her legs felt less numb and more like she was on some kind of hike- It was a strange sensation for her to feel her legs pumping but not knowing what she was stepping on, where she was, or what the rest of her body was doing. She was coming alive, in her own head. But how? Nothing made sense, and Rosaline desperately wanted to both figure out why she was in all of this new, warrior style clothing, around hundreds of thundering voices and footsteps, who were holding what she could then tell were torches, and to escape her own head and return to actuality. But she honestly didn't know how do either of these things at that point. She made a mental decision that as soon as she saw enough to have some kind of understanding of what was going on, she would fight as hard as she could to block it all out and focus on her real life in actuality as hard as she could in hopes that it would help her imagination fade away. That is what she usually did to escape, to end one of them at will, but this kind of imagination had never happened before. It was real, yet in her head. She was becoming someone else, someone that her brain had formed, someone that lived in a world that she had built inside of it. But it felt too real…
The clarity of the scene around her began to uncover itself quickly and soon she could see the heads of hundreds of people bobbing up and down, walking together, some holding the torches that she had previously seen. After a few seconds she could see faces- heavy set men, many of which had long beards, and a large range of strong and plump woman, some carrying or tugging along children, some leaving that task to their husbands. Rosaline immediately noticed that she was at least a good 6 inches taller than everyone around her, since she was looking down at all of them. It was perhaps the most interesting group of people she had ever seen with her own eyes. They all seemed to know each other, like one big family on a hike together. Men carried all kinds of weapons with them- knives in sheaves on their sides and backs, axes in hand or in piles of their other belongings which trailed behind them on wagons pulled by horses and donkeys. She could see it all almost perfectly clear, but a dark fog still hid her complete surroundings from her. Her curiosity grew at the same rate as her fear. What if she became trapped in this forever? She pushed that thought out of her mind and continued to examine those around her. Three squat woman, one holding a striped cloth that she was frequently using to wipe sweat of her brow, the other two holding the hem of their dresses up to their ankles, trying to keep them from getting dirt all over from the earthy ground, chattered away excitedly. The earthy ground! She could now see what she was stepping on, which seemed to be a hastily made dirt path with a few upturned wild plants still lying sadly on their sides, being squashed by a thousand feet. A thousand… she could see at least that many behind and ahead of her now. Kids ran in between the adults legs, back and forth, waving sticks at each other apparently pretending to have a sword fight. Something that Rosaline did endlessly as a child… It made her smile briefly to see it. The only familiar thing she had seen so far.
She relaxed a bit when she noticed that she could finally feel her legs and arms completely, and decided that it would best to continue walking, although she didn't know where she was walking to. She wondered if anyone could see her, but deep down something was telling her that they could. She needed to keep acting normally. She stared down at her new apparel, and, surprising herself, felt oddly content and confident in her new getup. She was surprised that the snail was still attached to her hand and flicked it off into the grass. She saw that the heavy weight that was bearing down on her sore shoulders was a pack of some kind, carrying who-knows-what. It would not have been a very good time to sift through and examine it all. She thought of the words that her best friend Pfeiffer had frequently used to describe her appearance, even without this new outfit- "How are you so strong and perfect? You're like an elegantly beautiful warrior!" Now she truly felt like that, but with the proper gear to be called a warrior. As she examined her dress more carefully, she noticed something that interested her very much- two built in sheathes underneath the braided tie on the left and the right where pockets might have normally been. And inside them… "Knives. Why do I have knives…" She whispered under her breath. She ached to pull them out and examine them but knew better than to take out two knives in the middle of an unfamiliar crowd that may or may not be aware of her presence. She did not touch them, but instead lifted her head and looked out and around her again, but this time all the darkness had gone. What she saw took away her breath, and made her immediately stop in her tracks. She knew exactly where she was. It all came rushing into her head.. but how?... what could possibly be going on here… She couldn't believe it. She was in Middle Earth, and the gate of Erebor was in clear site ahead of her. Mountainous terrain surrounded her and she couldn't miss the gigantic mountain straight ahead of her. The lonely mountain, with its mighty front gate standing proudly over freshly barren ground, and the huge dwarf statue towering over the huge group of people marching next to her which she then knew were unmistakably dwarves- Erebor's lost kin.
Rosaline began to shake and sweat even more that before, but with a strange kind of terrified excitement. "I am in Middle Earth! Erebor is right in front of me. How can this be?" she kept thinking. She is literally living her dream world, even though it doesn't belong to her. Complete disbelief overtook her. She had been very close to this world before, in her previous imaginations, which now seemed simple and boring to her compared to this. How could you ever go back to simply watching your favorite characters live their lives to living their lives with them? Seeing Erebor in all its glory was overwhelming, and she immediately thought that the movies couldn't really do it justice. Just the front gate, which is really all she could see, was magnificent and detailed with seemingly perfect architecture. It was precisely how she remembered it from the movies, but… something new was there. Something that couldn't have been in the movies. She slightly quickened her footsteps in order to get a better look at the unfamiliar part of the mountain. Very close to the front gate, on her left side, was some sort of magnificent structure that stuck out of the side of the mountain like a bird house. It as much smaller than the gate, but Rosaline knew that up close it would really be very large. If only she could get closer without having to trek the last few miles to finally get to it with the rest of this group of dwarves. Someone next to her seemed to have noticed her incessant staring because she suddenly heard a gruff voice to her right addressing her. "Amazing, isn't it? Never seen it before I'd suppose?" A dwarf almost a foot shorter than her with a skinny, long, red beard with a pointy curl at the end asked her.
Startled, she hastily answered "Yes, i've never seen anything quite like it." in a timid voice, hoping her obvious nervousness would add to her awestruck aura. "Aye, it's strange to think that this is our new home. At least I assume it is for you." He added. Rosaline had no idea what to say. She wished that she could just skirt off to avoid talking too deeply with a dwarf about a situation that she doesn't really understand, but according to her knowledge, dwarves wouldn't take that kind of avoidance too well. "Yes, I believe so." She said, knowing that it was a stupid answer, because of course she should know whether or not she would be permanently living in Erebor or not if she bothered to travel all this way with a bunch of dwarves, But the problem was, she just had no idea. Where have the dwarves just travelled from? Why are they coming here? Why am I coming here? Who am I? What time period is this? Why am I in LITERAL EREBOR?!" She couldn't handle it. She could not progress until these questions had been answered. But how does she get out of this? Her muscles ache, she was confused in every way, and in complete shock that she just talked to an actual dwarf and is about to enter Erebor. Not to mention her confusion about the unfamiliar structure sticking out of the side of the mountain. Somehow, it seemed extra familiar to her as she got closer, but she couldn't put her finger on why. She couldn't puzzle about it right then. She knew that now was the time to try to fight her way out of this insanely realistic imagination, because with every passing second she grew closer to Erebor, closer to a life that she doesn't know anything about. All she knew was that in this life, she was not Rosaline Samuel. And she needed to get out of it before anything went terribly wrong.
She began to focus only on her life as Rosaline, willing every ounce of herself to concentrate on returning to her normal self. It pained her to leave such an extraordinary world that she had grown up loving and imagining with all her heart, but she would be putting herself in danger in both worlds if she didn't return to her spot against the tree near her home in Kansas. Her mind spun wildly but she managed to slightly blur out the things around her. "At least this means that I am not permanently stuck" she thought to herself, glad that she was starting to partially escape Middle Earth. She couldn't stop walking and if she closed her eyes she would trip, but without darkness she couldn't totally block out her surroundings. "How am I supposed to escape?!" the words circled around her head over and over, and she couldn't block Erebor out of her mind. It was too much. Ready to give up and accept her fate of being stuck in Erebor forever, Rosaline continued to panic and felt like running out from the group, off the path, and into a cave in the mountain so that she could try to escape her mind in peace and quiet. But of course someone would probably notice and follow her and question her more about her unfamiliar self, and then she would be in even more conflict. Just when she had prepared to make a run for it, she felt a very sudden jerking force on her right shoulder- it felt like someone was shaking her violently- but her shoulder wasn't moving and nobody was touching her. Before she could even comprehend what might've been happening, her vision went out of focus and black speckles began to fill her vision until all she could see was blackness. Within 10 seconds all of her clothes had unwound themselves from her body and her lilac dress returned, her hair shrank back into its waves, the red calluses on her hands sunk into her palms until only her regular soft skin remained, and she sighed in relief as the pack on her shoulders seemed to disintegrate until her shoulders were free from pressure at last. She felt the rough tree bark digging into her back and the sweet smell of her family's forest acres filled her nose. She felt like she had just taken her first breath, all her limbs gained feeling, and her eyes snapped open. It was then that she understood the jerking on her shoulder, and the reason she had been forced out of Middle earth so quickly.
"Rosy! Rosy what's happened to you? Wake up, I want to talk to you! You've been acting...strange." Cal, looking very concerned, loomed just inches over Rosaline's face, so close that she could feel his steady, warm breath on her face. Still startled to have returned to the woods so suddenly, she tried to hide her deep breathing, but Cal notices. "Why are you breathing so heavily, you've only had your eyes closed for about 1 second." He said, puzzled by Rosaline's silence. She would've answered but she didn't know what to say. She was still trying to wrap everything around her head. Why she was in Erebor, and how it felt like she was there for at least ten minutes when Cal just said that her eyes were only closed for about a second. She didn't know how much of that Cal saw, so she can't lie..."Erm, I felt dizzy so I had to sit down for a second. Just a bit winded from riding my bike up the hill." She said, her voice wavering.
Cal's look of concern hardened into a suspicious and unbelieving grimace, and he lowers himself to the ground next to her. His brown eyes bore into hers and he said very quickly, "Rosy, I've known you since we were kids and I've never once seen you get tired just by riding your bike up this hill. You are the strongest girl I know. Lately you've seemed so distracted and quiet, which isn't like you. You've barely talked to me. Now you've just jumped off your bike and nearly fainted against a tree. I've been keeping quiet about his but if you don't talk to me I'm going to tell someone. I'm worried about you." He said, with a surprisingly serious expression. Rosaline had never seen him look at her like this before. His skin looked so smooth and soft up close, his brow was furrowed in a way that she remembered it when he was upset when they were kids, and something about him seemed… different. Something about his presence- He did smell really good, but that wasn't it. She couldn't put her finger on it but she couldn't focus on that right now. It was true that they had known eachother since they were kids, so she shouldn't have even tried that excuse on him, but she just wished he wouldn't press her so much. That's when she realized that maybe that was the problem. She had been ignoring him, which was not something that would have been happening when they were kids.
Cal and Rosaline first met in the late summer when Rosaline was newly 7 and Cal was about to turn 8, meaning that he would be in the third grade while she was in the second. Rosy wouldn't have tried to talk to a boy who was older than her, because the older boys always ignored her, but Cal was different. Cal had been coming into Rosy's family's land to secretly build a fort in the trees with his friend Spencer, and Rosy caught them in the act one afternoon when she went out to play with her little brother Danny, who was just a toddler at the time. She held his hand as he toddled around, inspecting fallen leaves as he went, occasionally brushing dirt out of his fine, white blonde hair, giggling and scolding him, "Danny, keep those leaves out of your hair you stinker!" They continued this until Rosaline heard rustling in the leaves other than Danny's little hands next to her. It was coming from somewhere down the hill, but she was not afraid to check it out. She didn't want to bring Danny with her in case it was something dangerous, and of course her wild imagination convinced her that it was. She quickly scooped Danny into her arms and ran for the back door of the house, leaving a flying trail of leaves behind her. She left Danny with her confused mother and ran back outside.
With careful but fast steps she headed toward the back of the field that was her backyard and only paused for a moment when she met the treeline that separated the yard from the woods behind it. She grabbed a large stick and continued, ready to brave whatever danger there might be. As she walked down the wooded hill her hair and dress kept getting caught on sticks and made loud noises, but she didn't stop because she kept hearing that strange rustling getting louder. And that is when she she heard a voice. Not an adult voice, but two boy voices. One sounded a bit older than her and the other around her age. She couldn't see them though. They were laughing about something and it sounded so close but no matter which direction she looked there was no sign of anyone. Were they laughing at here? She calmed her breathing and listened to the echoes, her stick grasped firmly in her hand, ready for the attacks she had been practicing on the trees to come in handy. That is when she realized that the noise wasn't coming from around her, it was above her. She quickly looked up and about 20 feet to her right in the midst of a huge bunch of green leaves was a face looking right at her. She froze, mostly from fear, but only for a few seconds because something hit her head. "OW! Stop it!" She screamed. The boy who she'd seen peeking out of the tree, in what she can now see is a poorly built tree house, had thrown an acorn at her and was now maliciously laughing.
Rosaline could feel the tears welling in her eyes and a bump forming on her head but she wasn't going to act helpless. She ducked to the side as he threw another acorn at her and grimaced at the boy's face when he missed. He looked about 10 or 11, with military cut black hair and an evil laugh. The other voice she had heard hadn't shown a face yet. Maybe she had imagined it. He threw another acorn, of which he seemed to have infinite supply, probably to get her to leave, but this was her family's land and she was going to defend it. She rolled to the side and gripped her stick like a baseball bat as she swiftly stood and swung it at the next acorn that came her way. Surprising herself and the mean boy, she hit it squarely and it flew about 50 feet away. But that only made the boy want to hit her more. He threw acorns continuously while Rosy either ducked, jumped, rolled, or smashed them with her stick, refusing to be hit again. "Get lost little girl!" The boy said angrily, his face reddening as he threw yet another nut at her which was hit back at him with her stick, nearly hitting his own head.
"I'll never leave! You are in MY backyard and you're being mean!" she said. The boy stopped throwing and looked down on her, then back into his tree house. It almost seemed like he was saying something to someone inside, but he quickly turned back to her and said, "I'll only leave if you make me!" as he ducked his head behind the window so that she couldn't see him. The only thing she could think of was to climb up there, but that would require her to drop her stick. She NEEDED her stick. But if she didn't force him out he would never get out. She ran to the ladder of the tree house and climbed as fast as she could, but stopped for a second because she heard arguing.
"Don't tell me you actually hit her Spencer, you idiot! You don't throw acorns at girls. You don't throw anything at girls. Or anyone. You were just supposed to scare her way, not actually hurt her!" It was the voice she had thought she had heard laughing earlier, the one that disappeared once she noticed "Spencer" in the window. "I thought we were supposed to do anything to protect this place! Plus she kept dodging those things like crazy, whacking them with some stick and nearly hitting them back at my head. She's insane!" Spencer replied, frustrated. "Now she's climbing up here. If I don't hit her again we will never have this place back!" Spencer said. "Listen to yourself!" The other voice said angrily. "You want to hit her again to keep our treehouse? That's a guarantee that we will lose it. Once her parents see that you hurt her you are in so much trouble. And I'm not being a part of that. You're just mean you know it? Your mean and you shouldn't have hit her!" Rosy, still frozen on the ladder listened silently as she heard a sickening noise that sounded terribly like a punch to the face. Her suspicion was confirmed when the younger boy yelled out in pain and she could her Spencer yell "You always have to ruin the fun Cal, who cares if she gets hurt, even Mikey and Juan think its funny when I hit people with the acorns, so I guess you and your goody two-shoes are going to have to start hanging out with someone else!" Cal didn't seem to care about what his supposed friend just yelled at him, he was trying to hard to stifle whines of pain. Rosy immediately knew she needed to do something.
This younger boy, Cal, just defended her and got punched by his friend! How could anyone have such a terrible friend? It was awful and all she wanted to do was whack Spencer in the face with her stick instead of hitting an acorn. She continued climbing, set on attacking Spencer with all of her strength as soon as she got inside the tree house, when all of a sudden "WHACK!" an acorn hit her hard on her shoulder and she flew of the ladder. She was only a few feet up when she fell but she fell hard and immediately passed out. What happened with Spencer and Cal after she fell was a mystery to her but she found out as soon as she woke.
Slowly she opened her eyes, wincing with pain from the bruising on her head and shoulder. She was still in the woods but she wasn't alone. Her head lay on something soft, someone's legs, and when she looked up she saw the most bloody but most attractive boy's face she had ever seen. Frozen for a moment she studied the shaggy but very straight, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and strong jawline of the boy who had to be Cal. His long eyelashes were covered in flecks of blood and his slightly pink, full, lips had blood dripping from the left corner. His nose still had a slow but steady flow of blood, but he didn't seem to care at the moment. He just looked at her and said. "Good, you're awake. You have to get home soon. You are all bruised up." Startled out of her stare, Rosy sat up quickly, her head moving up from Cal's lap so fast that they almost bonked heads. Her bruises throbbed and all she wanted to do was run home, but deep inside she felt like she couldn't just leave this boy who stood up for her bleeding in the woods. "Thanks for telling that guy to stop throwing stuff at me." She said shyly, standing up and brushing dirt off the back of her dress. "No problem. He's really a jerk, I don't know why I keep hanging out with him. Nobody should throw stuff at people." he said, also a bit bashful.
"Well nobody should punch people. You were just trying to help me. Do you want to come to my house so you can clean up the blood?" She asks, still feeling a bit reluctant to talk to him. There was something friendly about him that she hadn't experienced with a boy before. "Yeah that would be good. If my step-mom sees this she'll freak out and figure out that Spencer and I were...um…trespassing." He said, bowing his head. "I didn't want to, it was Spencer and Mikey's idea, I knew we shouldn't." He said, his face reddening. "Its ok, I don't care about that. Your bleeding more, let's go." Rosy said. They made their way back to Rosy's house and Cal stared at everything on the way. The land truly was beautiful and the house even more magnificent, inside and out. They tried their best to clean him up in the downstairs bar so that Rosaline's mom wouldn't find them, and didn't talk much. The only thing Rosy learned about Cal was that he was rather good looking, very shy, and was going to be in 3rd grade at her school the next year. He said that he moved here from California and likes Kansas a lot better.
Even though he was quiet, Rosy couldn't help but to like that about him. Most boys around her age were annoying and rude. Cal must have thought the same about her because once school started they began seeing each other a lot and eventually decided to start meeting in the woods after school on Fridays. Then on Fridays and Saturdays, then Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays after church until dinner time. They became very good friends, and Rosaline helped him feel better when he had problems with his family or his old friends. His previous friend group, where 5th grader Spencer Garton was the ringleader and Juan Perez, Mikey Diggory, Elijah Blaire, Tyler Percival, and Cal Teller were his cronies, "expelled" Cal from the group because he defended Rosy and lost them their secret fort. He hadn't been that upset because he didn't want to hang out with Spencer anymore, but Tyler and Elijah had been close friends of Cal's, and Spencer stopped them from hanging out with him anymore. It was stupid of course, but Cal still felt isolated. He didn't connect well with his step-mother because she was very strict on him and didn't like him running off into the woods all the times, his stepbrother was spoiled and got him into trouble for things he didn't do, and he was mad at his dad for divorcing his mom and paying more attention to Stacy and Kevin. Lonely as he was after the whole incident in the woods, when he was with Rosaline he felt happy. Rosaline was a conversationalist, and had no problem talking to him about the troubles and joys of life up until now, when he is a new High School Junior and she is a sophomore.
He hasn't changed much since then, as far as his personality, but his relationship with his family has slightly improved and he's definitely made quite a few more new friends. Elijah and Tyler got themselves out of Spencer's dumb group and started hanging out with Cal quite a bit after 3rd grade over the summer, and he also started hanging out with Rosaline's best friend Pfeiffer's older brother Jake, who is a year older than Cal and a Senior now. Tyler had to move to Georgia because of his dad's job the summer after 5th grade, which got Cal down for a bit, but not for long, because he gained a lot of friends that summer. He started competitive swim that summer because he had gone to Rosy's swim meets and she thought he would like it, and he immediately made a name for himself. He won quite a few medals that year and met a lot of friends through that, but as far as Rosy new she was his only friend who was a girl. She often laughed at how bad he was with girls. There were quite a few that showed interest in him throughout Middle School, and she tried to encourage him to try to talk to them, but he usually preferred her company since she had known her for so long. He could have normal conversation with them, but as soon as it came to being romantic, he just didn't know what to do with himself. He hated it, because there were a few in particular that he really did like, but it just put him too far out of his comfort zone.
Now, as she looked at him so closely after not seeing him for a while, she realized what was different about him. Changes so subtle over time that she was blind to them while they were happening, but now, after being apart from him, she can tell, and almost blushes. Cal was extremely good looking. His cheeks and jaw were so perfectly defined, his skin glowed, his hair was no longer scruffy and all over the place but in a stylish, semi-long side part. His eyelashes were still long and even as they were when they first met, and his 5'10" tall athletic figure looked better than ever after the last few weeks of Varsity swimming conditioning. It wasn't the time to stare though. He was her friend and he cares about her, but she needs to get home. He does deserve an explanation, but until she can explain what is happening to herself, it will have to wait. Finally she replies "I know you are worried about me. And I want to tell you what's going on but...I guess I'm not ready yet. I want to be honest with you. And I miss talking with you. But you have to give me some time." She says, no longer trying to pretend that she's not panicking. There is no use, they are too emotionally close for him to just accept that she lying.
"Ok, I get it. But please let me help you, whatever it is. You've always been there for me, even from the first day I met you when you helped me clean the blood off of my face. I will do whatever it takes, I just want you back to normal again." He says, and her breathing steadies. It's strange to her to see him so serious, since they are usually pretty playful when they are together. The seriousness is saved for her to have when he is struggling. Not the other way around. But something about it feels good. Now she can really see how much he cares. "Thanks Cal, I'm glad you get it. I promise I'll talk to you. I'll text you soon and then we can meet up." She says she starts to get up unsteadily and he pulls her up from the ground in one swift motion. "Alright. See you in a bit then." He says with a smile, which was a relief to see. She smiles back and replies "Of course." before pedaling off up the hill again. Her brain was definitely about to explode, but she needed to get home before thinking to hard.