1. I do not own Rise of the Guardians
2. I am aware that all of my stories have been for ROTG
3. I do not care that all of my stories have been for ROTG
4. In order for you, my beloved reader, to understand my inspiration for the first paragraph, you must listen to Anthem of the Angels by Breaking Benjamin
5. Just read the story already and ignore whatever else I have to say until the end of this chapter
I could barely register the hands touching my eye. Everything seemed to be so far off, so distant, so cold. Nothing was making it through except for the smell of medicines and chemicals. Little light was visible through the blood, warm against the coolness of my skin. "This is wrong," I thought loosely. My thoughts were all jumbled together. "It shouldn't end like this. He should have been here with me." Then I blacked out... forever.
Cool air rushed into my lungs, thick and hard to suck in. Yet, it felt oddly satisfying, having any air in me. Every last fiber of my body felt limp, cold, almost dead. You know that weird tingly feeling you get when your leg falls asleep and its waking up again? Yeah, you all know that feeling. Well, take that times fifty two and put it all over your body. That is how I felt right then with every breath I sucked in through my annoyingly dry lips.
My right eye opened and realized that it was pointless. There wasn't any light or anything. I reached my hand forward and hit something before I'd even extended my arm. It was soft, sorta. Then I realized that I was lying down. My mind was still waking up, but I knew that whatever I was in, I wanted to get out.
"Okay, you just gotta push. Yeah, that's right." So, that's what I did. But it didn't work. All pushing did was hurt my muscles and back. And that was when things got really bad. Why? Cause that was when I realized that it smelled like cow dung in there. I gagged, hitting my head on the thing. "Pushing not working, try clawing."
What seemed like hours, and I think it probably was, later, I finally reached the surface. The open, fresh air rushed into me, replacing the old air that could peel paint... off a locker... in a gym... on the hottest, sweatiest, smelliest, most disgusting day of the whole year and perhaps of Earth's very existence. Hey, I can be quite dramatic.
By that point, my head had cleared and my body felt relatively normal. I looked around and saw graves. One was blank, no name or epitaph. However, it was right next to the giant hole I'd just dug up, so I assumed it was mine. Oh yeah, definitely mine. How do I know this? There was a bloody bullet right on top of the grave. The bullet that killed me, thank you very much.
A chill ran down my spine and I allowed myself to shiver. Hey, I just dug my way through six feet of dirt! Cut me some slack, alright? Sheesh, people are so judgemental these days. "Why aren't you scared, young one? You just dug yourself out of your grave."
Stranger danger? Nope, not here. No stranger, just some creep who watched me dig myself out. So, no stranger means no danger! Yay, fun! "I should still be buried. I hate them!" I screamed the last part, knowing that most people could not hear a word I said.
"Who is it you hate, sweetie?" the eerie voice asked.
"The Guardians. Bunny in particular. Everything, everything, is his fault. I hate him!" I just couldn't hold in all my pain, suffering, whatever else I happened to be feeling that day in. It was too hard on my heart, which was suffering enough as it was.
The grass next to my rustled as the man sat down, slow and deliberate. His feet dangled next to mine in the open grave. I noticed a pale grey hand next to my pale, normal colored hand. A small flame flicked from fingertips but quickly extinguished itself. I wondered what I had become, if I was an already well known legend or just some newbie who would need help getting street cred. Personally, I believed it was the latter.
"Why do you have issues with Bunnymund more than the others? I don't particularly blame you for hating any of them, but why Bunny?"
I clutched at the grass, feeling it heat up slightly at my touch. My fingers relaxed and the grass cooled down again. "Let's just say that I have my reasons. Now, if you must sit here, please sit across from me."
While shifted positions, the tall man asked me why I told him to move. At first, I considered making up some stupid lie and hoping he'd believe it. However, I was never stupid enough to do that. So, I asked him a question. "What is today's date?"
"June 13, 2013. Why do you need to know?"
"Because, exactly three days ago, I was murdered. Shot in my left eye, leaving me as a half blind whatever the heck I am. Happy now?" I asked, spite rising in my tone. See, still to this day, whatever day it is, any mention of my death makes me want to punch someone's teeth out. But back to my story... where was I? Wait! I remember now. "You know, they could have given me something."
The man's greyish-yellow eyes squinted in confusion. My soul did a little victory dance, but I remained motionless. This was just too much fun. "They didn't bother to give me an epitaph or anything. Jerks. What? I'm not good enough for that, just cause I ran away when I was twelve?" I stood up and stuck my hands in the pockets of my black cargo pants. "Later, Pitch."
I could feel the shock Pitch Black felt at y casual mention of his name. However, I didn't bother turning around to see how hilarious his face was. I could just tell it would have made me break into tears from laughter.
Once I was a safe distance away, I spread my wings and flew someplace I knew the Guardians wouldn't dare look.
Hi again! No more number list thingies... for now. I can't continue one of my stories (Disappearing Act for those of you who are curious) because nobody is entering the contest I have there. Which led me to thinking of new ideas while I wait. Then POOF! This story popped into my head. So the girl, still unnamed, although I know her name, is blind in her left eye for those of you who didn't get it. Wow, I really need some sleep. Kay, BYEEEE!