A little think I came up on the spur of the moment, I like the generial idea of what if's and so on so let me know if I should continue this. my other stories are currently on hiatis still and I don't know if I can find it in myself to continue it since I've been rather busy with work and have lost the inspireation for it. I won't give up on it just yet since my semester has just ended and I'l be taken the summer hols off so we shall see if I can gussy up some Limbo if not I wil be posting notice and asking if anyone would like to adopt it. though no promises yet.
Now on with the story
Aiyaki
Prologue I
My name is Alice Longbottom and until recent events I was a happy underpaid graduated nursing student in Belton, Oklahoma. I did the same things every day. I ate the same food, saw the same friends, worked with the same overweight arrogant boss, and went home to read the same books I've read all my life. And at night right before bed I kissed my same old childhood boyfriend, Steve Sanders, goodnight.
My life was boring, I admit but I was happy, at least I thought I was happy. But how happy can you be doing the same thing every day? I wished I had asked myself. I thought everything was fine, so why did I feel as if it was all a lie? Why do I feel betrayed, even though I had known for some time now? I deleted that last line sighing to myself and pushed aside the laptop. I just didn't really feel up to blogging my now lonely existence anymore. Steve having left me for some harlot didn't really bother me that much. At the time I admit, I thought "oh well about time", and could go on with my life, I hadn't taken into account that all his friends where my friends and his brother was my boss and now not only was I jobless, friendless and ousted in our small town community, I was soon to be homeless to.
Steve forgetfully thought to tell me that the house we took a small loan on was actually already auctioned to be demolish. Something about historical land repossession would make one think to slip into a conversation. Guess he just didn't think then.
I sighed again pouring myself a cup of coffee before sitting on my old leather couch. My cat Kipsie, a black half Persian half Minx, stalked up to me asking for attention.
"Where did I go wrong Kipsie?" I asked her petting her soft fur. She just purred on as my hand scratched her favorite spot on her head.
I didn't know where I was going to go from here. I guess I was a little too old to be moving back in with my parents. Wouldn't that be a hoot! I can already hear my mother now, her Twenty-eight year old daughter moving back in with her after having ran away to be with Steve. A man she had hated since the beginning. I never knew why Martha Longbottom hated Steve so much, but then I was young and foolish at the time and the hottest boy on the block just so happened to look my way. I was such a fool.
She'll get a right hoot indeed in me moving back. If she would even let me. My mother tended to hold grudges as she let my father know every day about the one time he got too drunk and passed out in Miss Simmerson's bed down the street and not hers.
Kipsie didn't seem to like my train of thought and insisted her stomach was a much better place to pet and think on then her head.
I smirked and complied with her while grabbing the remote to my TV and flicked it on. My two day's late on payment cable came on reminding me to pay them once again before I started channel surfing.
Being board, poor, and feeling like not caring anymore can do strange things to woman.
I was just about to turn it on to the late night show when the TV flickered to my nonexistent HBO channel. When I mean nonexistent I mean I never had them to begin with since I refused to pay fifteen dollars extra a month for it. And with my payment being two days late I was seriously confused why it was even on their to begin with.
I frowned more as the movie start page showed up before I heard the tall tale sign that a Harry Potter movie was starting as the movie franchise signature music began.
When I was but a child I found it amusing that one of the main character's was named Longbottom, and the fact that his mother had my name had me once dreaming I was just a reincarnation of her and would soon be waking up as her instead of myself.
That was before I read the books. And then I knew what really happened to the woman that held my name kinship. If J.K. Rowling thought she was clever in writing a tragic ending to a woman's life who hadn't even had a beginning then she was sourly wrong. I had half a mind as a child to wright Mrs. Rowling a letter of protest saying she was wrong and I was most surly not going to accept my name kinship family to be written off and to be forgotten in St. Mongo's only to be remembered as poor Neville's parent that was tortured to insanity.
I was really young back then when I thought that.
Now I'm older and I understand…almost. I mean I would most certainly had protested if my son was going to be left with my husband's mother who let her family member throw him out a window when he was but a child just to see if he had magic. But I understand that Mrs. Rowling needed a second option so Harry Potter didn't seem as a poor abused over powered orphan with no brains in stranger danger.
I understand. Partly.
But it didn't really matter anyway since The Wizarding world and Harry Potter where just a romance of fiction purely made to entertain children and adults alike in a world with not magic but only imagination of the unknown.
Running my hand through my long brown hair, I huffed to myself amused that I could get so worked up yet so disappointed at the same time that I really had no reason to be worked up over. And the reasons that I did well I really didn't care about them.
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone continued to play as I mused over these phenomenon. I watch the movie up until the forest before I found myself falling asleep next the Kipsie, wondering what I was going to do in the morning and how I was going to convince my mother to let me move in with her without to many I told you so's.
Flashes of green light. Ash smoke. Fire everywhere, screaming, and blood. Blood everywhere. All over me, a cry of pain, my body felt on fire. I was burning. I felt like someone else, my body high in the air, a whizzed laughter, more screams.
Something hit my side and I was on the ground again running.
"ALICE, TAKE HIM AND RUN!"
"ALICE RUN!"
"Hurry take him mother leave while you still can!" My voice whispered as I felt something be lifted from my arms.
"Come now or it'll be too late! ALICE COME BACK!"
"I can't I'm sorry."
"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"
The words screamed from me though I did not feel my lips moving. Something hit my chest and I fell.
Unimaginable pain sprang from my chest to my arms, legs and heart. I screamed. Not again, please not again. I begged, I cried yet the pain kept going kept me suspended in a state of constant torture. Then suddenly everything snapped, like a waning rope numbness took over and a gleam of green light became my salvation.
I bolted from my bed shaking. My whole body riveting from the nightmare. I could still feel it. Under my skin, as wakefulness ever so slowly made the spasms reside back where they came.
What was that!?
I've never in my life felt so much pain, grief and desperation before. I didn't know if I needed to cry or puke, whatever that was I was glad it was over.
I sighed breathing deeply trying to get the nightmare out of my head. I clutch my white blanket to myself cold.
I blinked. Didn't I fall asleep on my couch? I thought looking at the blanket and bed I was on. I squinted at the room I seemed to be in. It was a white room, though dark I could make out I was the only occupant in it. A chair sat on my left and a small desk table to my right where pile of candy wrappers where neatly stacked on. Where was I?
Panic slowly crept into my heart as I tried to remain calm, I was obviously in some kind of hospital but why? I fell asleep on my couch, how did I get here?
Suddenly I heard rushing feat in the coming from my left as the door in the corner burst open and tall figure came rushing to myside.
"Misses I'm here do not worry are you suffering any pain?" The, who I found after my vision adjusted, tall figure was a woman with long blonde hair in a long dress-rap-thing. She immediately started to check my pulse running her hands over my arms and head checking on my state.
She kept talking as if I didn't hear her in soft tones. "Just another nightmare dear, nothing to worry about you are safe, let's see if you feel any pain alright." The woman's voice range her English accent slipping in as she pulled out a stick and started to poke me with it.
"Ow!" I said as her stick poked a little too painfully hard into my ribs. "Just what do you think you're doing with that stick, I'm fine now would you please stop poking me Lady!" I snapped at her a little too tired and weirded out to deal with some woman poking me with a wooden stick.
The blonde woman's eyes widened to saucers as she snapped her body back an entire foot as if she had been burned. Her blue eyes were suddenly piercing my own as she stared at me in shock.
"Y-you talked." She stuttered looking at me as if some miraculous phenomenon happened. I scowled at her. "Of course I talked, everyone and their baby can talk unless somethings wrong with them. Now would you stop looking at me like that and tell me how I ended up in the hospital and since when was it allowed for hospital staff to poke patients with sticks?"
This everyone is where I get thrown for a loop in our story because no sooner than did I reply back the blonde woman had fainted and I was left in a hospital bed feeling much like she should have been in my place.
Just what the fuck was going on?
End
let me know what you think please and thank you.
aiyaki
