HI! This is my first Hunter x Hunter fan fiction, so please have some mercy on me and don't leave this mid-way! Chapter 1 is sorta *cough* boring, so please bear with me! Anyway, thank you so much for bothering to even come this far! Be sure to leave a comment as I need all the feedback I can get!

Chapter 1:

It's funny, really. I think about stuff too much.

I always had trouble thinking of a beginning to the stories I wrote when I was little, but didn't think it would apply to my own tale.

No, really, when did my story start?

All my memories were as clear as day, but for some reason I could not remember.

Maybe it was then, or maybe then. I could not seem to decide. Too many bits and pieces. But I suppose I'll just start from the very beginning.

I was at that age. You know, that age. The one where you become the most stubborn and bratty you could ever be. I don't know, perhaps I'm exaggerating, and I tend to do that a lot.

Ever since I was little, I could only ever remember my mother. No father. I had tried asking about him, but every time I would, an eerie silence would pass over us, and that would be the end of that. Growing up, that became a forbidden topic in our household.

I think my mother tried to make up for the absence of a father figure, and filled me with all her love. That meant more than frequent picnics, buying toys way beyond our budget and tucking me to sleep every night. If I'm to tell the truth, it spoiled me a bit.

Generally, I was an agreeable fellow (or so I think), but stubborn. Once I had set myself to something, only God himself could change my mind. This is the reason for why I often got into arguments with my friends so often about trivial matters.

"I'm telling you! There must be living beings living on worlds beyond ours!" I shouted stubbornly

"How would you know!," they teased me "Have you been visiting them for the afternoon tea?"

"What would you know? There are thousands, of millions of planets out there!" I argued back.

They laughed.

"What? Do you communicate with those friends of yours through that worn out, ancient notebook of yours you always have your nose shoved into?"

It was true, I did have an "ancient notebook" that I always had my "nose shoved into", if those are the words you chose to describe it. The notebook was a worn out, but beautiful notebook that had been gifted to me by my mother on my tenth birthday to fill with all "the wonders of the world". It had parchment-like pages, and the most breath- taking cover. The cover had different strokes of multicolored paints that looked like they had been painted randomly, but seemed to provide a better result than any planned, or organized painting could have produced, with its elegant display and smooth surface. A couple of feathers had also been stuck onto the front, that seemed like they belonged to different sorts of exotic birds. A tin strip of silk like material had been pinned to the book, and it seemed like it was to be used like a bookmark, to find your way around this jungle of knowledge. I suppose it was necessary anyway, considering just how very thick it was.

For the first year or two after getting this wonderful invention, I preserved it carefully, afraid that I would ruin it, or far worse, fill it completely. Then, finally, a year ago I finally took it out, and began to fill it up carefully with wondrous, unearthly knowledge. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating again. I filled it up with things that interested me, like paradoxes (A/N: Paradoxes are statements that contradict themselves. They're really interesting, you should check some out.) And my favorite anime, Hunter x Hunter. My favorite online blogger had mentioned just how much he had like this anime, and at the time I didn't feel like trying it.

Afterwards I was quite bored so I decided to use it as a pass-time. I loved it. Throughout all the arcs, all the episodes, I kept noting everything that I couldn't get out of my mind (which was pretty much everything) into it. I think my mom was actually quite disturbed the one time she randomly flipped open my notebook and read what I had written about the whole "kite crisis" episodes and Hisoka. So I wouldn't be over exaggerating when I say that she never tried to read my notebook again.

It had been a few months since I had finished all the episodes, but my obsession never ceased. I constantly wrote down my observances on different characters, and their character developments. Not only that, but I wrote down practically everything I could think of: from jokes to possibilities in the future. The most problematic thing was, that every time I would finish writing about something, new ideas would pop into my mind. That's why, these days it seemed like I was almost always busy with it, and it seemed to bother my friends. Yet, what interested, or to be more precise, disturbed me was that it wouldn't fill up. No matter how many pages I filled, not even a small portion of the book, overall, seemed to fill up. My mother described it as the "magic" of the book that had been passed down through generations. She also sometimes laughed about how obsessed I was with it. But I absolutely adored that book, and could you blame me? I had a part of my soul stored in it, it was like horcruxes are to Voldemort. I protected it with my all.

My, My, I've gone on for quite a while about the notebook. I think you finally get the message, right? I love that book. So obviously I felt offended when they started dissing it.

"I think that an alien communicates with her through that shabby notebook!" snickered one of my friends.

"Really? Wow Celia-san, how come you never told me?!", butt in my friend Sophie, in mock horror.

"Celia-san?", questioned a friend called Jane.

"Yup", Sophie lazily exclaimed in a muffled tone due to her, trying to touch her nose with her tongue "Celia-san, is a girl or a boy?"

This was Sophie, who was someone closet to a best friend I had. We once met at a gathering, and instantly hit off due to our love for hunter x hunter. We talked occasionally, but she knew almost all my secrets and I trusted her. She was a bit strange though, with her weird antics and strange remarks. She was also the most dirty-minded person I knew, but we were close, nonetheless.

I shrugged my shoulders in response "Who knows?"

"By the way, Celia", addressed Jane "You should really get rid of that notebook. Isn't it like really, really old? It also has a weird appearance!"

"Hey!" I yelled, pointing my finger at her "That was a present from my mother! Stop it!"

Jane gave a horrified look.

"So that book holds more importance to you, than us?"

Does it? I trust all my secrets to this book; I've stored my soul in this book. Have I ever really had a heart- to- heart conversation with any of my "friends"? You might say to me: Isn't it completely wrong of me to be closer to an object than my friends? Yes, it might have been, but only if I had the right friends. From what I've learned from books is; friends are those who embrace your worst points and fix your wrong ones. They don't encourage wrong acts like back-biting or gossiping, and shun your favorite hobbies, or things you take pleasure in. So really, which holds more importance to me?

I suppose I was lost in my thoughts for too long, or at least long enough for Jane to perceive an answer of her own.

"You little bitch! How dare you?" Jane accused me "I don't want to be friends with such an anti-social freak anyway! I only became friends with a piece of shit like you because I felt sorry for you!"

Screaming profanities loud enough for passerby's to turn their heads and give disapproving glares, Jane ran as far as she could from me.

That was a bit uncalled for, no? Or maybe a lot uncalled for! Even though it's perfectly understandable why she wouldn't like me, did she really need to insult me like that? So, I spend the next five minutes fantasizing about how to torture Jane before I noticed an infuriated Sophie sitting next to me. From her facial expression, she was most likely doing the same thing as me.

"How dare she insult you like that?" Sophie questioned angrily.

"It's ok, Go home!" I insisted as I pushed her off the bench before she started one of her rants again.

Sophie was a very emotional person when it came to such issues. Although, cross that, she was emotional when it came to all issues. She was just generally a very emotional person. This one time, in the third grade, some girl crushed a grasshopper. Sophie burst into tears and had to be taken to the principles' office as she wouldn't calm down.

She was also a big feminist and was always ready to launch into an emotional speech about any matter. Which was why I made sure that she left. Just as I finished doing this, my phone started ringing, and I almost immediately picked up.

"Hello?" I spoke into the receiver.

"You stupid bitch, I told everyone about what a fuckin loser you are! Don't you ever talk to me agin!"

I opened my mouth, ready to sprout all the swear words I knew ( which was quite a colorful variety), but the call cut. I looked like a retarded fool, with my mouth open for minutes before I realized what had just happened.

Red faced, I raced all the way back home. Now that I think about it, I must have been quite the sight. A red faced teenager, literally flying down the street, probably breaking all the speed limits made. I didn't care about who I bumped into, or what I knocked over, so obviously I made quite a mess.

I could hear people calling to me, but I was on a warpath, and wouldn't stop for anything in this world. Time made sure to pass quickly and I was standing in front of my house before I knew it.

As I entered, I took loud steps to my room, making sure that even the deaf would be able to hear me. I made sure to bang my door shut; a sure-fire way to make sure my mother would hear me. If she knew what had happened, she would surely come over to me and make me feel better.. She was always able to do that. So I prepared myself for her arrival.

One minute passed.

Five minutes passed.

Ten minutes passed.

When no one came, I became enraged. I made loud, sobbing noises.

Once again, no one came.

Breathing fire, I marched the path of doom to my mom's room, where her presence seemed to be missing. So I knocked on the bathroom door. No answer. I explored the whole house, but found no trace of her. Finally, worried to my wits end, I called on her mobile.

I unconsciously held my breath, praying desperately that she would pick her phone up. With every beeping noise, I became more anxious. What possibly could've happened to her? She was supposed to be home today.

Suddenly, my ears detected a faint, ringing noise coming from the kitchen. I followed the noise, taking small, quiet steps. The truth was; I was afraid. Afraid of what might be awaiting me. Bracing myself for the worst, I stepped into the kitchen.

I guess I didn't brace myself enough.

My eyes froze in terror at the sight of my mother helplessly sprawled on the cold, hard ground. She was violently coughing up blood, spreading it across the floor.

I must have stood there for what felt like hours, just staring at my mother. That couldn't be my mother; it just couldn't. This couldn't be the same person who was irritated by the smallest of stains, the one who would always warn me of the tremendous amount of germs on the floor, who never let me sit on the floor. My brain refused to acknowledge the fact that this was, in fact; the very same person. So I just stood there, with my eyes wide open, and trembling body, just trying to process what was going on.

I finally snapped back to reality as a drop of a red liquid landed on my foot. It was wet, and….. red. It was like... blood. My eyes widened even more (if that were possible), and I shut my opened mouth, because I realized something.

That was my mother, the same mother who always had a smile on her face and refused to ever cry in front of me. That was my mother, and the fact was, she was dying.

I realized the intensity of the situation the same time I forcibly snapped back to reality. My mother was bleeding to her death, and I needed to do something.

I tripped over myself as I ran for the phone, only before realizing that I had a mobile in my hand. I struggled with my numb and lifeless fingers as I hurriedly dialed the ambulances' number. I fought with myself as I pushed the words out of myself to the confused operator.

As I waited for the ambulance to arrive, I tried myself to soak up the blood, to try to stop the bleeding. I tried to speak to her, hoping that she had just fallen asleep. She was like that. That was probably it; she had just fallen asleep.

"Mom", I sobbed "It's time to wake up."

Before I knew it, an endless stream of tears was on their way down my cheeks.

If I remember correctly, those were the slowest moments of my life. I took constant rounds of the kitchen, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, and as it arrived, it seemed as if time had forgotten itself.

In the hassle of explaining the situation to those who had arrived to help, to persistently insisting that I ride in the ambulance with my mother, my stream of tears never ceased in the slightest. In the ambulance, it seemed as if I had promoted myself to the rank of a priest, as just like my tears, prayers came flooding out of my mouth.

As we arrived at the hospital, and they took mom into the emergency room, I had to sit down in the waiting room. I sobbed, and cried, but really; was anything I could do going to make a difference? My mom had been there for me at every moment of my life, and now, when she needed me the most, I couldn't help her. Finally, a doctor came out of the emergency room to me.

"Are you Celia Collins?", he asked me, diverting his gaze to anywhere but where I was.

"Yes", I exclaimed "What happened? Mother is okay, right?"

Once again, he nervously cleared his throat.

"Astoria Collins would like to see you", he informed me.

I was completely and utterly confused; what was going on? Just as I opened my mouth to question him, he gave me the worst news of my life.

"I'm sorry, your mother is about to die", He wasn't sorry, just scared of my reaction "She only has a few minutes left, and she wants to have a word with you."

That was just about all I would hear, and without waiting for him to further elaborate on the reason for my mother's soon-to-be death, I ran for the emergency room. Ignoring the glaring nurses, and the protests of everyone around me, I entered and immediately made my way over to my mom. I sat by quietly by the bed side, trying my best to hold back my fresh batch of tears.

"My darling", she started, moving her hand so it would be touching my cheek "Don't be upset."

I was enraged.

"How can I not be upset?" I questioned her "You're dying!"

"Death is but a natural process, I had to die eventually."

I could hear the machine that was voicing her heartbeats getting quieter and quieter.

"This is so unfair! You were going to stay with me, you weren't supposed to leave me so early!"

She smiled a weak smile.

"It always feels early, doesn't it?"

I grabbed her hand affectionately.

"Stop being so god damn relaxed! Stop acting like we're going to meet up just tomorrow for some tea!"

Her heart beats had become so faint that I had to strain my ears to hear them.

"But of course we will meet again", she spoke happily "Just not in this limiting world."

I tried to interrupt her, but she kept speaking.

"We will meet for sure", she assured me "But in another world."

She winked at me "Be sure to find me."

Her heart beats became silent, and I didn't need someone to tell me that she was dead. I silently cried as I closed her eyes.

Then I ran.

I ran past all the disapproving glares, the sympathetic looks. I didn't know where I was running, just anywhere but here would be fine. I exited the building and staggered onto the road. It was raining heavily. Time really flew, it was night already. But, even the coolness of the air, nor the wetness of the rain was able to put out the fire that had ignited inside me.

"WHY?" I looked up at the night sky "WHY DID THIS HAVE TO FUCKING HAPPEN?"

I was just starting.

"WHAT DID I EVER DO TO DESERVE THIS?"

"WHY IS EVERYTHING SO FUCKING UNFAIR?"

"What did mother ever do to deserve this" I finally spoke softly and broke into tears once again, in the middle of the road.

My knees seemed to give up, and I fell to the ground. I didn't care about what happened around me anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.

Maybe that's why I never noticed the large truck coming towards me at a startling speed.

And the last thing I felt before everything went black was pain. Agonizing pain.

As I woke up, I had difficulty opening my eyes. My body felt like wool. I must have spent days trying to open my eyes before I finally did it. The amount of light that greeted me was tremendous, and I was in what looked like a nursery. The most annoying thing was that everything was pink; a pink cot, pink curtains, everything in there was pink. Even though this annoyed me, the architecture of the room was amazing.

Yet, Something was bothering me. Something was wrong.

And it only took me a minute to figure out what.

I was a baby.

BAM! Well, what do you think? Be sure to leave your much needed feedback!