Hello everyone! This is my LOTR story, and it does start a bit slow, so stay with me! This is a LegolasXOC story, but it is NOT a tenth-walker.
THIS IS A PROLOGUE TYPE CHAPTER, AS THE REST SHALL BE IN IN BRYNN'S POV.
Being a genius is about just as possible as having foresight. None are easy traits, and both are always hard to handle. Brynn had none of these traits, and still found life difficult.
No, she wasn't unintelligent, but she most certainly didn't have any major academic awards. She was an art teacher, making minimum wage and about just as satisfied as the rest of the staff. At least she HAD a job.
Students were always fun to work with, but she did have days were she wanted to wring their necks. Obviously, she told no one this. She loved literature, and had a special place in her heart for old children's books. Picture books were her favorite, as she loved to learn from the artwork.
When she was in third grade, she had always thought about being a music teacher, until the teachers praised her on her artwork. Why? She wanted them to love her music! She had made choral academy for the talented every year from kindergarten to eighth grade, thank you very much.
She had her fair share of friends. Being in the middle of the social ladder was perfect for her. No gossiping girls on her shoulders, and no geeks shoving books in her face. That was the way she loved it.
She was proud to share that by the fifth grade, she could play the flute, cello, violin, guitar (very well, might I add), trombone, and the clarinet. More instruments than her music teacher!
In ninth grade, her mother had been very fed up with Brynn's musical fantasy. She loved her daughter, but she wanted so much more for her! No, she didn't want her to become an artist either, but that was better than being an air-headed lull composing music all day, and becoming largely overweight! Her mother always was a stereotype…
Brynn changed her mind in eleventh grade that she wanted to pursue art as her career. She had wanted to become an art teacher. She finished out her high school ride, and when she left, she found she missed it greatly. Time had went by so quickly, she barely had time to notice she was twenty, and already began her adult years. She had a few flings in high school, but no serious relationships.
As a teacher, she found herself desperately alone. She had always declined the offers in college, and she kicked herself now. Life definitely was lonely, with one dog, herself, and a goldfish.
Brynn was in her third year of teaching, when she was diagnosed with stage three lung cancer. She wanted to forfeit life, but remembered her parents, and her students. She would fight for them. And her dog, Roxy.
Her students had started to realize something was up when she missed so much time, and it settled the cake when she came in with a shaved head.
It was late one evening, in the hospital, and she barely saw the time on the clock. It read; eleven : eleven. And that was when she died.
Except, she didn't feel dead. She felt very much alive. And very much COLD.
Brynn shivered, and wanted to open her eyes. Why wouldn't they open? She heard shouts, and croaks of something that sounded like a creature. Finally able to open her eyes, she looked around. Her eyes darted open, and she couldn't comprehend what was going on.
She was in a field.
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