I was about 300 words into writing this when my computer randomly rebooted.

So, this is the second time I've written this.

Enjoy my pain at having to rewrite something I've already written but got deleted on accident, something that happens a lot and I HATE doing!

Ahem, pardon my outburst.

Enjoy.


Chapter 7
"An Unfortunate Surprise"

"Class, class, settle down." My teacher, Mr. Grimsby, insisted. This man was probably the most boring man on Earth and I resented him for it. Zim still seemed smug and it was irritating me all the more. I had the urge to to dig my nails into my hand again just to reopen the wound and make him smell it all of class, but that would cause me more pain as well, so that option was out.

It was tempting though.

I wondered how he reacted around girls who were on their period.*

"Alright," Mr. Grimsby said monotonously, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses and eying the paper, as if even he too was bored with himself. "Let's start attendance. Taylor?"

"Here."

"Alyssa?"

"Here."

It went on as such so I tuned it out, resting my chin on my arms until I noticed, from my peripheral vision, Zim shifting uncomfortably. I glanced at him and noted he was not shifting, but actually just playing with some device on his wrist. I rolled my eyes, no longer interested.

"Gaz?"

"Here," I stated, just as boredly.

"Mm," Grimsby nodded, adjusting his glasses again. "Zim?"

"Eh? Yes! Yes!" Zim said, covering himself as he brought his attention back to what was going on in class. "Zim is present!"

Mr. Grimsby gave him a disapproving look. "Nice of you to join us, Zim. I was wondering if you were planning on showing up to class at all this year."

"My apologies, Mr. Grimsby," Zim said, sweetly, making me grimace in disgust and angle myself away from him. "Zim had a family issue that needed to be resolved."

He had that tone of voice that was sly, implying what he had just said was a lie with an air of truth to it. Only someone as observant as I was could've caught it though, meaning Mr. Grimsby, nor anyone else in the classroom, had any hope of noticing it. I ignored this though, uninterested. If I could get through class without speaking to Zim, or otherwise interacting with him, I would be satisfied.

Thank Bloaty's it was Friday. I wasn't sure if I could handle another day of this without a break.

"Yes, well," Mr. Grimsby seemed willing to let it go. It appeared he was, like many, a sucker for a little charm. "Try to show up to my class from now on, won't you? I don't bite."

Zim gave him a grin that revealed his own teeth and I was once again positive everyone but me missed the evil glint in his eyes. "Of course, sir."

Mr. Grimsby smirked a little and then it evaporated, going back to attendance. "Karon?"

"Here."

I heard Zim snickering to himself and decided there was now a rivalry between what was more annoying; Zim's little giggle or Dib whining.

"Have you ever thought that you're actually not particularly smart, but the majority of the people you speak to are just particularly stupid?" I questioned in montone, hoping this would cut his laughter short.

It did. He pondered the idea and I sighed in relief, now that it was quiet. My head was starting to ease up on me but still, Zim's annoying voice wasn't exactly helping it heal.

So of course he just had to keep talking. At least it was a whisper.

"Zim is superior," He informed me, quietly. "And while it is true your kind is mostly stupid, I am still superior."

I rolled my eyes, turning my head away from him, not feeling up for an argument. "Mhm, yeah, whatever Zim."

Another blisfully quiet pause was shattered, thanks to his impatience.

"You're normally much more uncooperative then this." He noted, suspiciously. When I turned to him a brow was raised, eying me like he thought I wasn't telling him something, some secret that would end in this conversation with me having the upper hand. "What is wrong with you, insolent little human?"

I let my eyes flash with irritation and saw him jump, leaning away from me a little and looking like he almost regretted asking.

"What's wrong," I hissed. "Is that I've got this obnoxious kid sitting next to me insisting I be more argumentative when I am sick and not in the mood!" I sat up a little more, using the full-force of my eyes on him. "Is that enough 'spunk' for you, Zim?"

And then I was lying my head down again, burried in my arms as I tiredly listened to my teacher drone on. It always took forever for him to take attendance. Either way, I didn't plan on listening to his lecture for this evening. I was too tired to care.

". . . You don't smell of any human ailment."

I groaned, irritated. "Zim, will you please just-." I cut off, confusion dawning overcoming me as his words sunk in. "Wait, we smell when we're sick?"

Zim nodded, both of us still speaking quietly, so Grimsby wouldn't notice. "Yes. Like your heavy perfumes, except more bitter tasting."

It took me a minute before I realized what he was talking about. Zim didn't have a nose, just an indent insinuating a nose on his face. He probably smelled us mainly through his mouth, meaning he got the taste too. I made a face of disgust though, thinking about that smell. It just made me sicker.

"Gross," I commented, dryly, burrying my face back in my hands. I could feel his eyes glaring at me, but he said nothing more, thankfully.

"So, on todays lecture class, we'll be talking about . . ."

I huffed, tuning out my idiot of a teacher and letting my brain rest. I was vaguely aware that Zim continued to raise his hand to answer questions, as I kept hearing that annoying buzz of his voice speaking. He was probably just trying to be a kiss-ass, to make up for the days he'd been absent so that next time Grimsby wouldn't make up such a big deal about it. I didn't particularly care though, as the more Zim volunteered to answer, the less likely it was that I'd get called on. I kept drifting in and out of sleep, which, thankfully, did not have consist of any memories floating around. Just peaceful, exhausted and much-needed sleep.

"Very good, Zim!"

Oh, gag me with a spoon, I thought, adjusting myself to be in a more comfortable position. Although it wasn't exactly like these lab tables were built for sleeping on.

Even with my drifting in and out of consciousness, class seemed to move very slowly. A couple times I flinched when a breeze rolled through the classroom, jolting me awake, but I soon after just fell asleep again.

The warning bell for the P.E. kids ringing woke me up, officially. My eyes peeled open and I was relieved to find that, for the most part, I was all better. Which was good not only for the obvious reason, but now I could legitimately practice with the soccer ball instead of just kind of sitting and wallowing in my pain. I noted that there was a paper in front of me, undoubtedly one that had been passed around while I'd been 'resting'. I took out my folder, slipping said paper inside before waiting, quite impatiently, for class to finish.

"That'll be all for today, children," Mr. Grimsby informed us, waving his hands as he went to his computer. "Talk amongst yourself until class is over."

Immediately their was excited, animated chatter about vacation. I rolled my eyes, looking out towards the snow outside. It seemed it was getting warmer, too, as there was only a very thin layer now. I made a face of distaste. The melted snow had probably made the ground all muddy. I sighed, shaking my head and deciding it was probably for the better. A disheveled appearance would only convince Dib of my story, if he felt inclined to be suspicious in the first place.

Zim seemed to notice my mildly depressed state, a brow rising. "What's the matter, Gaz-human? Not fond of the frozen water?"

"Snow, Zim. It's called snow," I informed him, bluntly, folding my head back in my arms. "And no, I was just thinking the ground was going to be all sloshy since the majority of it seems to have melted."

I only answered so he'd shut up. Instinct informed me (probably collected from prior knowledge I couldn't yet activate) that if I didn't answer his stupid questions in a straight-forward fashion, I would only get another far more irritating one.

"Snow," He said, slowly. And then, for once, he was quiet, seeming to contemplate this. I saw him mouthing the word over and over again, like he didn't quite understand it. Well, at least it kept him occupied.

"Idiot," I muttered, just as the bell rang.

He shot me a look, informing me he'd heard my remark. I just ignored him and left, for my locker, preparing myself for the rest of my evening. I was starting to think, in theory, that if I exercised more then maybe my mind would be too preoccupied with the present to care about the past. I walked mostly oblivious of what was around me, or at least, not focusing on it consciously. My mind was mainly wrapped up in what I was going to do about Dib.

Upon reaching my locker, I shoved everything (including my backpack) inside and slammed it shut. I wouldn't need anything tonight anyways, since it seemed the teachers had all taken pitty on us and excused us from homework for the weekend. I removed the soccer ball, moving it between my hands before pressing on it, to check for air inside. It seemed that there was nothing wrong with it. I grabbed my coat and slung it over my shoulder, kicking my locker shut behind me. It closed with a satisfying 'slam'.

It wasn't that cold outside.

I rolled the ball around in my hands again, facing the goal before me. Everyone was long gone, off to participate in whatever vacation they had planned. At some point, apparently, someone (probably the janitor or grounds keeper) had taken the time to move the snow off the fields. Which left me surrounded by two-foot-high mounds of snow, but otherwise, the white flakes did not disturb me.

Granted, deciding to play soccer in a skirt wasn't one of my better ideas, but I didn't really have a choice. It was either this or go home to Dib, my father and their endless questioning. I sighed, placing the ball on the floor, thankful that our uniform included sneakers. Otherwise this would just be a mess (as if it wasn't already).

I rolled my foot around the ball, testing it a little. I backed up then, focused on both the net and the ball. I took careful aim, making sure I was positioned correctly, before darting forward and kicking.

It slammed into the corner of the net without a second thought.


She kicks hard, that much I'll give her.

However, upon retrieving her ball, her foot becoms caught in the net. She slips when she continues to walk, not noticing she has been ensnared and falls abruptly on her backside. I cannot help but snicker, quietly, though at this distance, she has no hope of noticing my form. It's not spying.

It's watching after her while she decides to be stupid.

The curses she both shrieks and mutter reach my sensitive hearing and I snicker more, leaning my head back against the tree as I laugh. She gets up, eyes darting around to see if anyone has seen, unaware that someone has. But she seems satisfied, if not frustrated, twisting around to look at her backside, where she landed. Mud stains her clothes and I see her mouth curl back into a snarl, angrily. But then she lets it go, shaking her head, knowing it is of no use to be angry.

She spins the ball in her fingers while walking back to position it again, placing it back into place and trying again. It's too hard this time. It goes soaring over the goal and I see her place a frustrated hand on her forehead before making to go get it.

In my own hands, I continue to lightly toss and catch the only possession I've ever purposefully kept on me. It feels both heavy and light, a burden. But aren't all things that are important? I smirk as I purposefully eye her form.

Apparently so.

She's swearing again, I can hear it. Something about her hand. I scowl.

"You little idiot," I mutter, catching the small object and crossing my arms as I glare at her. "Hurting yourself over a meaningless argument."

I knew it wasn't the argument she'd had. I just didn't know what else it could have been. A part of me wondered if it was something I had done, but as the thought made me queast, I put it out of my mind.

This practice of kicking and aiming went on for a while. Then, after who knows how long, the ball went quite a ways off, to the middle of the second field. It'll take her a while to get there, especially at the leisurely pace she is going, as there is no rush. I pause, squeezing the object in hand and debating my next move.

To say it would be stupid would be an understatement. However, to say that logic was winning over my desire would be an outright lie. I watched her as she passed the net, oblivious of my inner-turmoil, although I'm sure she had some of her own at the moment. It was hard to believe that anyone felt more conflicted then me, but I knew she was not stupid. Gaz knew very well something had changed, but she remained comfortably oblivious, like I wanted her to be. Like she needed to be.

But that wasn't the point. I glanced down at the object in hand, then back up at her retreating figure. There was a very large chance that I would be seen. There was an even larger chance that she just wouldn't find it.

However-.

"It seems your stupidity is rubbing off on me," I muttered, looking up from my hand with a smirk.


Stupid ball, going over the goal like that. I was well aware it was my own fault but as I was not in the mood to be practical, I just continued damning the little piece of inflatable plstic to Hell as I walked.

I was uncomfortable, the water from the puddle starting to seep into my underthings. I wasn't about to go home, having just started, but I really wished that I had packed an extra pair of clothes or something. In fact, it was pretty stupid that I hadn't. There was nothing I could do about it now, though, so there wasn't any point dwelling on the regret.

I eventually reached my ball, picking it up and smirking at the mud on it. I hadn't really thought this would be such a messy task, to just kick the ball around for a little while.

That was when I heard a faint splash, my body tensing automatically as I looked up.

There was nothing on this field. I turned, looking back to the one that I had started on. Still nothing. I made a face, suspiciously looking around. My body was on edge, ready for someone to come charging out of nowhere. After waiting a full five minutes though I decided I was, for the moment, safe, though my muscles never relaxed. I walked briskly, focusing on my peripheral vision, but still, I could find nothing.

I walked back to my original position, placing the ball down again, focused. This one was going in. I took two solid steps forward before kicking.

It did what I wanted. Another goal. It landed in the puddle in the middle of the goal with a satisfying splash.

"Huh," I commented, stepping into the net to retrieve my ball, "Maybe I should have gone out for the team."

I picked up my ball, about to start over again, when something dark and velvety-looking caught my eye. I paused, glancing around me again. That hadn't been there before, had it?

Wary, I placed my ball down beside me, on (mostly) dry ground. I reached into the puddle, grabbing the object in my hands. It was gross, thanks to the mirky waters of the puddle. I wiped it a little on my jacket, since it was going to be washed anyways, examining it. I was wrong. It wasn't all velvet, in fact, it was mostly metal. It was still very dirty though.

"Weird," I noted, eyes narrowing at the object so clearly out-of-place.

Curiousity peaked my interest as I noted that a line ran across the middle; it could open. For a moment, I was hesitant. What if there was a reason someone had left it here to rot? But eventually I decided I didn't really care and shrugged. Before opening it immediately though, something else caught my eye and I paused, noting that there seemed to be some type of engraving under the mud that coated the object. I removed my jacket altogether, dipping it in the shallower end of the puddle again, to soak the mud. It softened it as I flicked the thicker parts of before wiping the last parts of the muck off, my eyes widening the cleaner it got.

Four words very clearly printed on the top, but two that should not have been there; my name.

Property of Gaz Membrane.

I froze, breath hitching. A fire blazed through me, making me shiver as I looked around. Yet for all I knew, this could've been here for a while. It was certainly old enough. But . . . why would something of mine be on the field? What had I been doing here and why hadn't I noticed this things absence?

Impatience overwhelmed me; I opened it at once.

It wasn't anything special, but it was oddly familiar. I was pretty sure it went in my hair, but as I had never been one to accesorize, I couldn't know for sure. It was small, a little gray butterfly. To be honest it wasn't ugly. In fact, I quite liked it. An odd feeling of deja-vu began to stir up in me. Obviously, I had seen this before, since it was, apparently, mine, which would also explain why I had a favor towards it. I was reluctant to touch it though, as my hands (and the rest of me) were really quite filthy and I had no desire to get the delicate little (possible) hair-piece dirty.

I made a face. Well . . . it had been about an hour, right?

An icy breeze reminded me that I was wet, everywhere. I should proably get home before I caught hypothermia. So, with a resigned sigh, I closed the lid and shoved the box in my pocket, throwing my slightly damp and fairly dirty coat on, breaking into a run. My house was about a 25 minute walk and a 15 minute run. The run should warm me. I was glad I had left my things in my locker, knowing they too would've probably been coated with icy mud by now. For some reason, a wave of fear began to creep through me as my jacket bounced while I ran. Protectively, almost instinctively, I placed my hand in my pocket, gripping the box and securing its safety. I didn't really know what it was or why it had been dropped in the field, apparently unmissed. But that was exactly the point.

If I didn't remember it, it was from the 3 month gap. Which meant, if I was at all lucky, that this little thing might help me remember at least something of my past. At this point, there was no going down. One thing was for certain, though.

This could very well turn out to be a very helpful present.


I smirked, watching her dart off faster then a girl of her frail stature looked capable of. I noted that her ball sat on the icy grass, long forgotten, but I (and obviously she) did not care. I left it where it was, knowing that she would eventually remember and come to retrieve it. To find it missing would only prove frustrating.

I was satisfied. I hadn't intended for the splash, but I was quick enough. I knew I would be. Waiting until she was out of sight, I turned, heading back where I had come from. Then my smile of amusement disappeared and I looked down, worriedly. It would prove problematic if that little belonging assisted her at all in her memories. But . . . . I couldn't bring myself to keep it. It wasn't mine. It was hers.

Just like I was.

Another sigh made me shake my head, dispelling the thought. This was fine. I could be satisfied being a guardian angel, though I was obviously no angel. But that was alright, as she was obviously no innocent creature that needed protecting.

Or, so we thought.


*Sorry, had to put that in there. XD

AHAHA, END.

Yes, the unexpected surprise was Gaz getting a gift from NOBODY.

Stop guessing, I will kick you! Spoilers are bad! But, alas, while some of you are convinced you know the identity of said monologuer above, you all know NOTHING! It doesn't matter who is protecting her! It only matters what you are not paying attention to!

AND YOU DON'T KNOW! AHAHAHAHAHHAHA.

. . .

Sorry. Minor spurt of exhaustion-fueled insanity. I am tired and this chapter was difficult to write, for some reason.

Ha, I love playing in the mud. Until you catch hypothermia. Then it's not so fun anymore. :/

Till the next chapter, my pets!