Prologue
After I woke sobbing and clutching for his hand again, I figured it was time I did this. Faced the memories. Wrote them down. The dreams are too vivid, destroying me with the reminders of what I've been taken from. I can't just spend the rest of my life wrapped in a blanket, trying to grasp what I've lost.
No, that's not what he, or any of them for that matter, would have wanted me to do. They would have wanted me to keep on living, to treasure the memories, but not to let them drag me down. But I can't let that happen.
If the biggest part of your life can't be told, are you alone? People would think I was crazy if I told them. For now, I'm simply feigning ignorance. The hospital let me go pretty quickly.
I thought it might get easier with the passing of days. No, time is only a reminder I'm never going back.
On the day I was entered Middle Earth, the weather was good.
Now, the weather is never good in Scotland. So, as I gazed out at the sunny, cloudless skies, I thought to myself, today is going to be a good day.
I had slept in late; it was the weekend, and I was going to meet my best friend Cassie down at Crema, a little coffee shop in town, for lunch. Cassie's been my best friend as long as I can remember; our Dads are research assistants, and we both moved to Stirling when we were thirteen. This upcoming year, I'll be attending Yale University back in Connecticut, where we used to live. Cassie will be going to UCONN, just a few hours drive away. If I were to ever get this book published, I would dedicate it to her.
Anyhow, because Cassie was going through a faze where she wanted her friends to all look 'chic' and like 'fashionistas' (her words exactly, it all seems rather petty now), I took extra care in dressing that morning, in a black skirt and a nice top. My hair went into a ponytail; there was only so much you could do with thick brown curls, and a sparkle of blush went over my freckled cheeks. Looking back on it, I curse myself for not having grabbed my black backpack -think of how handy it could have been- and instead grabbing my small leather tote; just enough space for my sketchpad and pencil, a chapstick, my wallet, and one tampon (that tampon would come back to haunt me too). The real deal breaker were the three inch heels I shoved on that Cassie had given to me, the queen of sneakers. Sometimes, I wonder only what would have happened if I'd worn my nikes instead.
Out on the sidewalk, I felt brisk and efficient as I made my way in towards town. My mother had been asleep when I'd left, and we'd talked about me going out to eat the night before. Later, I would sob, wretched heaving sobs, that we had never gotten to say goodbye, but at the time I was feeling brisk, efficient, independent, all feelings that were somewhat foreign, and all feelings that were mostly brought on by Cassie, or a painting done well. Not used to wearing heels, I was walking slower than usual, tottering. On a couple occasions I almost slipped. Ah, back when my greatest problems were not being able to walk in spikes.
As I tottered along, I went from silently cursing my inability to walk to musing about other things. I had had a violin lesson tomorrow, but Miss Leslie had had to cancel. Secretly, I was thankful, as the past week had been so busy with college prep that I hadn't been able to practice. As a matter a fact, I had been running over a particularly fast set of fingerings in my mind as I tripped over a stick that had fallen onto the sidewalk. Desperately, I tried to catch my balance, teetering in the heals. No one was on the road, so there was no one to catch me as I fell, cursing, towards the pavement.
That's when the truck careened along the corner. I didn't have time to see who was in the truck, or even what color it was, because then it hit me and the world ended.
Imagine being kneed in the gut really hard. Now, multiply that feeling by one thousand. Then, imagine that sensation all over your body. Depending on how hard you've ever been kneed, you might come close to what I was feeling. To this day, I don't know how much of this was caused from the truck I'm still here today, after all or what came next.
Now, I need you to imagine another sensation. You know how sometimes you're lying in bed, and then, out of no where, it feels like you're falling? I felt that.
Right after I felt that, it occurred to me that I wasn't dead.
Heaving, desperately trying to bring in some air to feed my whining lungs, I felt a jerking sensation in gut. And then, I felt nothing. Yes. Nothing.
Maybe, I considered, this is what dying is. I lay very still, until it occurred to me that to make an effort to lay very still, you have to be able to move.
I opened my eyes.
A/N
Hello Everyone! Welcome! I'm so excited and thankful that you're here. 'Dreams of Gold and Fire' is something I've been thinking about for a while, so I'm thrilled to have the prologue up. I have a tendency for a lot of grammar mistakes, so if you see anything, please PM me or leave me a review (same with the other mistakes). Anyways, my chapters will tend to be much longer than this (I really had to hold myself back; think 4k or 5k words a chappy) and this should be a pretty long fic. So fasten your seat belts, readers, and get ready to go with Wynn on her journey!
(God, I just love corny Author's Notes)