If I owned Bleach, I'd disown it.
"Teach me peace, Eagle. Happiness!"
I hated cars.
Out of all the devices we, as humans, have ever built, cars were by far the worst. Millions died because of them every year. Not to mention the mass amount of pollution they produced, ruining our planet even further. I mean sure, they had their uses, but bicycles, trains, planes or boats could easily replace every car. We'd survived without cars for millennia; they were a needless accessory in our day-to-day lives.
Of course, the one thing I hated worse than cars was alcohol.
Drunks were the worst. Booze was easy to get in America, sold at every corner store for those looking to have a good time. When people got slammed, they got stupid. A single word when drunk has caused plenty of wars, I'm more than sure. People, when drunk, were not themselves. They would do stuff they would never even think of in their entire lifetime. Alcohol was the worst drug in the world; of that, I was positive.
So when those two things combined to take away one of the people closest to me in my life, I was furious. No, beyond that. I was pissed. As a child, I didn't have the right to act upon my anger though. My mother forced us into family counseling; driven my some perverted sense of grief that we had to 'talk' our way out of this mess. To a young girl that had just hit puberty, talking was most likely one of the worst things I could be forced to do. I never had any secrets- I wasn't allowed any. Privacy was a new drug to me- I became addicted to it as soon as I got a taste of it. To be able to do something, and only you know about it: that was power. But power was rare, as anything said to the psychologist went straight to the ears of my mother. Siblings didn't help either; my older sister Tif was never the type to understand me in the first place, so when she figured out how much I treasured privacy, she exploited it every chance she got.
Revenge was her justification. If I sneezed on her, she would sneak into my room and snoop around, looking for some incriminating evidence of one thing or another. And if she didn't find any, and god forbid she didn't, she'd make something up. It was her way of getting back at the world for the injustice done to our family.
A drunk driver killed our father, you see, and as he was the only source of income for our family, it nearly drove us over the edge. 1994 was the year he passed away, on a dreary day not too different from the day I died. Those two years in between his death date and mine were hell. Mother was either jobless or about to get fired, resorting to purging her angst in faked family time where she tried far too hard to make everything perfect. There was also baby Maya to take care of, which fell on Tif more often than not as Mom hunted for jobs in vain. Babysitters were a luxury we couldn't afford, so soon enough the both of us, me and Tif, had to drop out of school to take care of the house while Mom flounced from job to job, barely making ends meat and letting us live off welfare. The counseling was the only thing she splurged on, besides the occasional family date.
So, when we arrived in Soul Country, you can imagine my shock at not finding it much better. To get away from the hell, I decided to become a Reaper.
But before I get to that, I should probably tell you how I died. Like I said, it was a dreary night, not unlike the one that took my father from me.
The clouds covered the sky in a horrid gray that was tinted with polluted green and putrid orange. And those colors were never meant to be mixed that way. Rain fell from the sky, pattering on our windshield and running through our tires as we drove up to the stoplight, pausing when it turned red. The detested car was my only friend that day as I leaned against it's window, watching the rain soak the homeless on the streets, only sparing those who had thought to bring umbrellas with them to work that day.
Maya was sleeping in the backseat beside me, tucked safely into her car seat so that her little redheaded curls wouldn't be harmed should something dangerous happen. Tif sat in the passenger seat in front of me, year of age in her favor gaining her the right to sit beside our mother, who stressfully ran a hand down her face. We were on our way back from one of her spiffy little family counseling sessions, which had blown up in her face. The doctor scolded Tif for being so vengeful, once again, and Mom couldn't help but come to her daughter's rescue, claiming it was normal for an eleven year old to act out the way she did. That got me riled up, as she would never stand up for me that way, and soon enough me and Tif were having a fist fight in the middle of the office. Of course, then Maya started to cry, and Mom became preoccupied with her, leaving the poor doctor to try to tear me off of my annoying sibling. As proof of such a terrible day, I sported a set of bite marks across my arm, and a blackened eye. That was alright though, as I managed to set to her face not only a busted lip, but a bruised cheek.
An uneasy silence was set in stone inside the car, nobody willing to talk to each other, lest another fight break out. I was already grounded for the week, and I didn't care for making that sentence even longer. This stone was snapped like a twig when Mother started forward again, only to scream and swerve the car out of the way of the intersection, driving into the opposite lane. All of us screamed, and baby Maya woke up and started crying. It didn't last long, as everything happened in an instant after that. Whatever Mom saw hit us head on. All I caught at that moment was a flash of horrid black and white before I, and everyone else, was thrown forward. Things went dark.
The darkness faded into dizziness mere seconds after that, and that nausea cleared up even further in the next few moments. I was unharmed; the thought running through my head repeated itself over and over until it became a reality. When I thought I could move, I looked over to find Maya's large red curls redder than usual. A huge piece of glass from the car window slipped into the two year old's head, giving her a near instantaneous death. I screamed, or at least, I think I screamed. I couldn't hear myself. For some reason, that didn't set off the alarms that not everything was a-okay. In a state of what could be considered panic, I looked forward through the seats to find Tif hanging halfway out the car and halfway in. The front window was smashed to bits and pieces, and mother was nowhere in sight.
I had to find her. I had to make sure she was alright. I had to get Tif out of that position, get her to the ambulance that was surely on it's way by now. But the belt buckle wouldn't budge, no matter how hard I slammed down on it. I screamed at it, cursing and shouting. This time, I could hear myself. Panic and fear were lacing though my veins just as thick as the blood that kept me alive. A deep, disturbed chuckle brought me to a pause. I froze in my attempt at freedom, scared stiff at the voice.
"There you are…" The voice said, as if through a filter of evil and malice. It scratched and screeched, running through my head like a horrid wave of pure, pervasive hatred. Slowly, with all my fear showing on my face, I turned to look at the creature that spoke. It was large, easily the largest animal I had ever seen. But it didn't even look like an animal. It was a monster, a horrid, terrifying monster that glared straight at me through two dark holes in its pig-like white mask. Besides the mask, every other part of the creature was black. A shadowy black, that formed two elephant-like legs and bird like arms, complete with feathery outlines of a darker shade that I didn't know was possible.
I screamed as the monster reached at my car door, ripping it off its hinges with ease. Before I knew it, its strong grip was wrapped around me, pulling me out of the car and holding me up in the rain. I screamed over and over, shouting to anyone and everyone for help. It chuckled at my pathetic fight as I vainly tried to worm my way out of its painful grasp. When I managed to get one arm out, it's mask tilted into a grin, revealing a cavernous mouth that led to a horribly dark throat.
"You're going to make a delicious dinner." It stated, starting to bring me closer to its mouth. My throat ripped and tore in pain as I screamed louder than I ever thought possible. The scream was cut short as I suddenly felt myself dropping, still in the monsters grasp, onto the hard pavement of the intersection. As soon as my head banged against the surface, I found myself flying through the air once more, this time by rebound out of the monster's grasp. I hit the pavement for what could be hoped for as the last time as I rolled, gaining numerous cuts and bruises along the way. I coughed and hacked dirt and blood out of my throat as my roll came to a stop, lying on my belly against the stiff black road.
"Demon Way 22: Red Sun Blast!" A foreign, male voice shouted. A massive amount of heat surged into the area, breaking me out into a sweat instantaneously as red light flashed before my blurry vision. Just as soon as it came, it went, and the monster screeched in pain. I pushed my sore, bleeding, and bruised body off the ground with all the strength I could muster onto my knees, raising a hand to clear my vision. My hand came back wet, but in the state of confused panic I was in I didn't notice it. Instead, as soon as I could, I looked up to where I could hear the monster was, finding him with only his legs and head still attached to the shadowy torso. The voice let out a war cry coming from above, and I lifted my eyes just in time to see a man dressed in all black dropping in the air, a sword raised high. He fell fast, catching the monster off guard as his blade sunk in and through the monster's mask, slicing it cleanly in half.
What happened next I never would have expected. From the ground up, the monster started to disappear. No, that wasn't the right word. It started to dissipate, fading into nonexistent pieces that floated upward before becoming absorbed by the world, turning into nothingness. The man who had saved my life looked over his shoulder at me, a small frown tucking it's way onto his rather handsome face. In a skintight black shirt and knee length black trunks, he started on his way over to me with black moccasin's saving his feet from the crunching glass. He was tan, extremely so, with soft looking curly black hair and a pair of warm brown eyes that looked better suited for reading a book in front of a fire than out killing monsters.
"It's okay." He said, voice completely clear English. "You're going to be alright now." How kind of him, I almost thought. Saving my life like that. But after the word 'okay' I promptly stopped listening. I became distracted by who I knew wasn't okay.
"Mom…" My voice cracked as adrenaline hit me. No longer was the monster keeping me down. I had to find her. She had to be alright. I swiveled my head, red bouncing this way and that as I searched for her body. She was nowhere in sight. The dude looked somewhat concerned as his brows knitted together, but I turned all my attention away from him. Not seeing my mother, but spying Tif still hanging out of the window, I lifted myself onto my feet. The pain in my legs was nothing compared to how she felt, I swiftly reminded myself as I began to race over to her. As soon as I got there, I grabbed her shirt sleeve, starting to tug her out of the car. All I could get was an inch or so before I felt a hand on my shoulder. "You've got to help me!" I shouted at the guy, not looking over my shoulder at him, but simply knowing it was him.
"You can't help her. I'm sorry." I stopped at my vain attempts at pulling my sister out of the car. Even if she was a bitch half the time, she was still my sister. I still loved her.
"What are you talking about? Of course we can help her! You killed that monster, didn't you! Help me get her to a hospital!" I rounded on him, sending him the meanest glare I could muster. My anger turned to surprise, however, when I felt something warm press into my forehead. Next thing I knew, my feet started feeling light. My world was spinning, tilting up and down like a boat on an ocean in the middle of a windy day. His eyes, which were starting to blur together with the rest of him, softened to the point of tears almost starting to make their way forward.
"I'm sorry. Everything will be explained to you when you arrive. And don't worry, your family will be there soon."
All I could managed was a slurred 'wha?' before all the colors finally mixed to form a frightening black, and I lost my vision. Even that black, however, was gone as soon as I could think about it, as it faded into nothingness.
For what seemed like a small eternity, I floated peacefully in that nothingness. There were no thoughts of panic, no remembrances at all. Everything was nothing, and nothing was everything. To imagine it would be impossible- for it would be imagining nothing. Nothingness was something that could only be experienced then and there. After that small eternity, however, something flowed through the nothingness. It was small, like a ribbon at first. The white ribbon, reaching through the nothingness began to wrap itself around me. Me, who was one with the nothing, became something once more.
And it was with that somethingness that understanding finally came to me. But it wasn't peaceful understanding; it was violent. Violent, like my death itself. For now I knew I was dead. That my life as the living would be no more, that I would have to die again to finally reach absolute peace. Through the nothingness this white ribbon dragged me into a realm of all white, which slowly faded away as the understanding grew. With a gasp, I lifted myself up into this new world.
"Oh! Another one already!" Said a very jolly looking man. His face was bloated and robust, and on him were sweat pants and a jogging shirt. At least he died trying to lose weight, I thought to myself, as disgust was soon to sweep over me.
But with the colors back, and understanding with me, I could not be happy. A foul mood enveloped me as I scowled, looking around where I was. In a line full of people, first and foremost, and I was the very last. It seems like the man in front of me had died just before I did. The line itself was long and seemingly endless. Below us was a vibrant, yet dull, gray tile, and we were surrounded on both sides by gray concrete buildings. The gray tile road stretched off into the seemingly endless distance, keeping straight through the rows upon rows of empty buildings.
"What's got you in such a bad mood, little lady? Didn't want to die? Not expecting all this?" The fat man asked, squatting down beside me. I myself had sat up when I gasped into this world. The red hair on my head seemed even more vibrant, yet less defined, than usual. I knew my bright blue eyes hadn't changed, either, because I could see myself in the reflection of the obese dude's glasses.
"Yes and yes." I finally answered him, pushing myself into a squat before standing up. It seemed like I was fully healed from my death. I was even dressed in the same clothes as when I died, which consisted of a short sleeve gray tee and a pair of jeans.
"Well," he said with a grin plastered on his, face, showing off his yellow and crooked teeth as his glasses glinted in the bright sun that hung above us. "You're in the Waiting Place now, so don't you worry about a thing! Everything's a-okay here!"
"The Waiting Place?" I asked, only coming up to the guy's mid-thigh. "What are we waiting for?"
"To get assigned to a district, of course! My name's Bill by the way, Bill Beasley. Pleasure to meet you… I'm sorry, I didn't ask your name yet!" His floundering brought a hand up to the back of his head, where he scratched with a nervous smile.
"Vallery. Vallery Wilkenson. What are districts?" He beamed down at me, ruffling my hair in the way adults always did. I frowned a bit, but he put it off and started to explain.
"Well, little Miss Vallery Wilkenson, A mighty fine pleasure to meet you. Districts are-" A groan interrupted him, sourcing from behind me. A very familiar groan, coming from a very familiar voice. I turned around to catch sight of none other than Tif, holding her head with one palm and supporting her body with the other.
"You too, huh? No wonder the dude said it was useless trying to get you out of the car." I commented, not as shocked to see her here as one might think I would be. The nothingness had calmed me quite a lot. The understanding, as easy as it was to refuse the whole idea of this place, did help a bit with the impact of coming into a new world.
She peeked one dusty brown eye open at me, the same mop of red curls hanging around her ears. Unlike her, however, I inherited mother's blue eyes. She got our grandmother's brown. "At least we're here together, then. What is this place?"
Her question came as she looked around. I answered her as she pushed herself up, standing at a height not much taller than me. "The Waiting Place, to get into something called districts. Mr. Beasley here was just explaining that to me."
His face went red from embarrassment as I called him, respectfully, by his last name. He gave out a low chuckle, looking to my sister with a kind pair of eyes that shone despite his horrid appearance. "My name is Bill, Bill Beasley. What's yours? And I take it you two are sisters?"
We nodded in sync, and she moved forward, past me, to hold out her hand. Mr. Beasley took it and gave it a hearty shake with a grin. "My name is Tiffany Wilkenson. A pleasure to meet you. Would you mind continuing to explain this place?"
"The pleasure is all mine little miss! As I was saying, we're at the Waiting Place, which is basically one giant line for everybody who gets sent here by the Reapers-" He started again with one heaping smile of good-natured happiness.
"Excuse, me, but Reapers?" Tif intruded.
"Is that the guy who killed the monster?" I asked Bill, not waiting for him to answer my sister's question. He smile grew at our combined curiosity.
"I bet it was, little Miss. Reapers kill Hollows, which are what you are probably referring to when you said 'monster'. Then, they send souls of the recently departed, like us, here! It's a great system, really. Very structured and organized. Reapers are like the living world's police force equivalent. They protect and help out souls like us."
"Oh, okay. Please go on then." Tif nodded for the both of us. Just as he was about to get started, however, a great wail took up in the Waiting Place, causing many souls to turn and watch us. Tif and I snapped to attention immediately, her snatching the babe off the ground and settling Maya on her hip while I pulled my face back into a forced smile, clapping and laughing at the baby to get her to shush. Her red face was soon fading as Tif bounced her, turning her to me so I could keep her attention. I gasped, playfully tickling Maya lightly on the stomach.
"You're such a brave girl Maya! Shush now- don't let all this get to you! You're safe now! No big bad monster is here! Shush shush sweetheart! Don't cry! Look, everybody is happy here!" Her wails eventually died down into a sad look as her blue eyes, matching mine, looked around. It was then that, with a frown, I noticed the rather large line of pearly white scar tissue stretching from the beginning of her hairline down to right above her left eyebrow. Her head turned this way and that until she caught sight of big ol' Mr. Bill.
"Hey there!" He gushed, sounding just about as overjoyed as a new father, which, as much as it crept both Tif and I out (it set off protective siblings alarms), we silently handled because we knew she would need support from not just the two of us, but from everybody she set her eyes on. "How are you Miss Maya? Such a loud thing, but so cute! You have to be one of the most adorable things I've ever seen!"
She was successfully giggling by the time he stopped thanks to our combined insensible fake happiness and my giggling. 'Thank you', mouthed Tif to Mr. Bill, who just nodded with a knowing smile.
"Maya? Where's Maya? Tif- oh thank God!" Mom finally spotted the four of us, not giving a glance to Mr. Beasley before standing up and taking her youngest baby into her arms. Tif and I were pulled into one giant hug not much later. "Oh, my babies! I was so worried! How are you? Is everything okay?" Her questions only came after the both of us pulled away, and I could feel relief washing over me. Mom was here, so things would be okay. She wouldn't let anything happen to us. "Ah! Who are you? My name is Clarissa, Clarissa Wilkenson. And these are my children-"
I stopped her just as she was about to name us off. "We already introduced ourselves, Mommy. This is Mr. Bill."
"Oh! Okay! Good to meet you, Bill…" Her starting off optimism at my statement died down once she got a look at the man. He bashfully smiled, taking her hand and giving it a good shake.
"Bill Beasley, at your service ma'am. I must say: you have done a fine job raising these young girls. They're extremely well mannered, and quite smart!" His compliments made her beam at him, instantly winning himself onto her good side.
"Why thank you Bill! I try. Though, it seems I didn't try hard enough… what is this place? Do you know how we got here?" Her instant switch from happiness to depressed curiosity made me tug on her skirt leg.
"We're in the Waiting Place, about to be sorted into districts. Mr. Reaper sent us here, since we're dead. Mr. Bill says things are better here." Her brows furrowed at my choice of words, apparently not liking the 'sorted' part. Bill was quick to come up after I ended.
"Don't you worry, Ms. Clarissa, they keep families together." My mother instantly relaxed at his words, sending both of us small smiles.
"Well, that's the best news I've heard all day. Oh, look! The line is moving!" She beamed at Mr. Bill, who grinned back and turned around taking the three paces forward that we all moved before looking back at us. "Now, what are these districts all about?"
Her question made Mr. Bill start off explaining once again, but this time, thankfully, he was not interrupted. "Districts are small zones of land in the Soul Country that house a certain number of souls, like us. There are four zones: North, South, East, and West. In each zone there are about 120-150 districts, each with free housing for people to live in. The more free housing, typically the better the district. Most of the times, districts are better in the lower number range, because they're closer to the Soul City."
"Soul City?" Tif asked for all of us. He nodded.
"It's a giant city where all of the Reapers live. Though I've never seen it myself I've heard it's a very nice place. Normal souls like us aren't allowed in though. But the districts, I hear, are nice enough. Besides, it's not a bad place here. You never get hungry, and age slows down a lot." His seemingly infinite knowledge went unquestioned by new comers like us. Except that last part. It wasn't true, and I told him that.
"Nu-uh. I'm hungry right now." I told him, catching his lie. Mom frowned, slapping my hand lightly.
"Don't smart off to Mr. Beasley. It's probably just a tummyache." Her sharp retribution made me bite my lip in shame. I glanced up to Mr. Bill, who gave me a pitying smile before he turned to my mom.
"Please, Ms. Wilkenson, call me Bill."
I looked to Tif, catching her watching me. Her eyes held a look that said to tough it up, you're not a kid anymore; but then there was something behind her expression. When she looked away, I could tell she was getting hungry too.
"Only if you call me Clarissa, Bill." The smile they shared was amiable and kind. Small talk was soon to follow in the conversation.
"So Bill, how do you know all of this? You haven't actually been here before, right?"
Bill nodded at Mom's question, "One of the Reapers was strolling by on duty once, and I managed to catch him as soon as I came. He was kind enough to answer all of my questions and more."
"Ah," Mom nodded, beginning to understand. "And there is free housing you say? Everybody gets some?"
He beamed, "Yep! It's all based off of needs, though. If you need more room, you'll get a bigger house. Eventually you have to buy it from the district, to legally own it, but that's only if a family needier than you comes along. They'll ask you to leave if that happens, and sort out giving you a smaller house. But once you buy it, it's yours. Nobody can budge you then. Unless, of course, the Reapers need your land, which is practically never."
Mom seemed much happier at that. "Why, things here really are much better!" Bill laughed.
"Sure are!" We moved forward again, another four paces. This time, a pair of gates came into view. Large and metal, their doors were swung open on its hinges, revealing a light and dark yellow swirling mass. I had no clue what it was, but considering Bill just referred to it as a 'gate' I could guess it would transport us any place we needed to go. Two dark-skinned men stood on either side with clip boards and papers in their hands. People were passing through once every five minutes per guy, and to each of them a small piece of paper was given. Most of the people entering looked happy, but some looked nervous. "Would you look at that! We might just get in today!"
Another person appeared behind us in line, much to my mother's general shock. Shock turned to happiness, however, as the man stood, brushing himself off. He was handsome, even for however old he was. Peppered gray hair was clipped in a buzz cut manner, and his fresh tux was gleaming and spotless.
"Where am I?" He asked, looking around. When he spied my mom, he blinked into reality. "Are you an angel?"
Mom blushed and laughed softly. Bill laughed as well, getting the man's attention with a wave of his hand. "She might as well be! Welcome to the Waiting Place my friend! My name's Bill, and that angel over there is Clarissa. Her children are Vallery here, Tiffany, and Maya. What's your name?"
"Mason." He said carefully, looking over each of us in turn. "Mason Grant. Pleasure to meet you all. Waiting Place, you said? What are we waiting for? Heaven? Hell?"
"Entrance to the Soul Country." Bill quipped happily, answering all of his questions with a broad smile. Mr. Grant was a nice fellow, ex-army. He was on his way to a job interview for a high-end Banking Company when he was shot in a hold-up trying to get the others to safety. Mom took a liking to him right away, probably because of the compliment he accidentally gave her. But either way, the instant friendship between the two of them came in handy as we approached the gate.
"I don't know why, but I'm getting a bit nervous here. Do they accept families at the gate?" Mom kindly answered him, as Bill was already making another friend. He had given up his spot in line, moving to the back to greet everybody that was new. After about three people down, we knew he had been doing this for a good while.
"They do." An idea struck as a great smile went across her face. "How about you stick with us, Mason? It'd sure be nice to have a man in the house at the start- just to help us settle in a bit. If you don't want to it's completely okay! I just thought that birds of a feather and all might apply well to this situation."
Mason, to his credit, actually laughed a bit at Mom's floundering. With a bright grin of his own, he gave a nod, "I would love to, Clarissa! It's very kind of you to offer! I would probably be very bad off on my own. You know us men- always need a woman to keep us in order." Mom laughed, and Tif rolled her eyes at the two, crossing her arms. I smiled at her reaction, speaking to her lowly so that the adults, who were busy making fun of their own genders, couldn't hear.
"What's wrong, Tif? You've been sour ever since Mr. Mason came." She scowled at me.
"What's wrong? You can't really be that stupid, can you?" She stepped closer to me, being ignored by Mom, and whispered her next words harshly into my ear. "Mom's trying to replace Dad, you dolt."
"But isn't that okay?" I whispered back lowly, not in her ear, but close enough so that only she could hear. "I mean, Dad's been gone for two years now. We'll never see him again. Look at her, she seems so happy." Tif glared at me and my childlike attitude, ever rotten to the core.
"Whatever. You're just an idiot. It was stupid to think you'd understand." I frowned, hurt, but didn't respond. She preyed upon the weak after all- it was her vicious personality. At long last, as we had been standing for what seemed to be hours, we reached the front of the gate. The men I had seen before were now clearly modern-day Indians. Native Americans. Or whatever they were called. They were both guys, with strong looking jaws and dark hair. Instead of what the picture books always showed Indians as, however, they wore the same outfit as the Reaper had. They were stricter looking, however, so the only thing keeping me from ducking behind Mom when we were called forward were Mr. Bill's words earlier. He had put us all at ease.
"One family?" The Reaper guy asked, and Mr. Mason took the lead, placing a hand on Mom's shoulder.
"Yes." Seeming to predict the guy's next question (or maybe he overheard from the previous family), he added on a second later: "Five members. Three kids and two adults."
The Indian nodded, scribbling everything down on his clipboard, which seemed to never have to be flipped. "Names?"
"Mason Grant, Clarissa Wilkenson, Maya Wilkenson, Tiffany Wilkenson, and Vallery Wilkenson." He motioned to each of us in turn. The Indian's eyes lingered on me for a second, flashing some unnamed emotion before scribbling everything down on the clipboard. His hand always returned to the same line, however, and I couldn't help but ask about it as he hurried to write everything.
"Is that a magic clipboard, mister?" I questioned, hand gripping tighter on Mom's skirt, just in case he got angry with me. Adults did that sometimes; get angry for no reason. Mom was known for it. A bemused smirk tilted its way onto his face as he looked down at me.
"Yes, it is." The next question was directed at my mother. "Children's ages?"
"Eleven, ten, and two." It was obvious who was what. When the writing finally stopped, the pulled off five small paper squares, all attached side by side like tickets. He handed them to Mason, who took them with a nod.
"District 93 South. Head through the gate." Placing on hand on Mom's back and the other on Tif's, Mason began to guide all of us through the gate. Right before we stepped into the mass of sunshine swirls, however, I took one last look at the Indian guy from my new vantage point, finding his clipboard empty. But it was too late to ask him about it, because one foot was already in the gate. The Indian caught my gaze right before I left, however, and he tipped me another small, barely shown smile. This time, though, a wink was added.
Yeah, so... don't kill me! I had to do it! The muses were screaming at me! Screaming!
So, I'm not really that big of a fan of Bleach. It was good, until Ichigo saved Rukia. After that Arc, things got really old, really quick. In fact, the only reason I even keep up with Bleach is to see the characters die. :/ Harsh, isn't it? Anyway, this story will follow the narrator here, Val, throughout the infrastructure of the American's "Soul Country". It's the western equivalent of Japan's Soul Society, as you will see. Many things (just about all, actually) are the same, just with different, English names. But don't worry, you get some yummy Japanese action. It'll just take awhile to build up to that point; you see. I can't just start her off from where she enters Soul Society, that's not right. You have to know her story, know her. So, for now, please deal with my OC central. If Val starts to seem like a Sue, I'm sorry. In all honesty, I'll try to avoid that path. Just makin' a story here, not some two hundred plus chapter fic that goes on and on and on. I highly doubt I'll make it to fifty chapters, quite honestly. With the length I'm putting into all of it.
On that note, if the length doesn't match the detail, and you want more of one and less of the other, please feel free to tell me. I'm willing to experiment with this fic, as Val is a pretty easy character to write. Critiques and flames are welcome, who am I to say what you can and cannot think, after all? Reviews in general are too kind :] So, leave one and tell me what you think! I'll try to stick with this story as long as possible, with weekly updates. I'm thinking Wednesdays, simply because I'm already updating MSD then.
Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review and tell please!