My name is Ellie. No last name, I left that behind with my old life. I've tried all my life to stand out, to look edgy, but it's hard to look edgy when you look like I do. I'm seventeen years old (I know, I couldn't have just waited another half a year to leave, whatever). I'm pale, which made me think I could pass as goth once but I have a soft face, baby blue eyes, and caramel colored hair, so that failed. Especially since I smile way too much to be goth.
Anyway my point is that I don't look like anyone special. And I'm not really. The only time I was ever interesting was when I was with Lexi. She was an untamed spirit. She cared about nothing and everything, she had a new lover every week but she was a virgin, she was never read her books for English class, but she had all the classics on her bookshelf at home. She's read them all twice, at least. She still is my best friend, and I know I'm still hers. Even though she left me. Before I met her I was boring, but after I became this free spirit, confident, adventurous, and just a little bit crazy.
The crazy part is important, because no sane person would have done what I did. No sane person would have seen a boy slaughter a deer with his teeth and claws, and not call the cops. No sane person would have seen the boy's friend, who was covered in scales, high five the boy, and not run away from them both. No sane person would have hid behind the trees and studied every inch of the boys while following them back to their camp. I say camp because I have no other word for it, I still don't quite know what it is.
I am currently inside a tent. There are weird little creatures outside, making sure I don't leave. They bite. I'm not leaving. Even if I could I wouldn't want to, because this is this most exciting moment of my life.
They caught me, of course they did. Not the boys but one of the other strange people in the camp. He was older, probably in his forties. He had ugly, wild orange hair and he talked like a stuck-up history professor. The boys' faces were so shocked I laughed, probably not the best thing to do when the stuck-up guy had a knife to my throat. I hope they don't think I'm nuts.
Anyway there was this big fuss, a bunch of people, and I think some talking animals, gathered around me. Lots of them were angry, and almost all of them were shouting at each other, giving suggestions on what they should do with me. I just kind of sat there, because the stuck-up guy still had his knife at my throat. Eventually someone came up to the mob and they instantly grew quiet. He was behind me, so I didn't see who he was. He told the stuck-up one to put me in this tent, and the small creatures to guard me. So here I am.
I'm not even sure this is real, maybe it's heaven. Maybe some random robbed me and killed me while I was sleeping on the side of the road. Maybe I got hit by a bus a month ago, and none of this is real. It certainly doesn't sound real now that I'm writing it down, but it feels real. It feels like this is the only real thing that's ever happened to me. And the best.
I found some paper, and a super old quill pen. I've always wanted to write with one of these, so I took it. Why not? They're probably going to kill me anyway.
I am writing this because that's what I do. I have to right everything down or it just gets all jumbled in my brain and I can't think. It's very therapeutic. Oh! Someone's coming, I-