Out of Balance
Chap. 2: In The Eye Of The Storm
Hello! Welcome back to the next chapter of Out of Balance! By now, you're probably wondering whom that girl was that Ash met in his dream. And no, she's not just a vision; she's a real person! So in this chapter, you'll get to know this girl a little bit more, and how she will make up an important part of the story later on. Oh, and to clear up any confusion about the last chapter, it takes place the night before Ash got his first Pokemon. But that was three years ago, (or was it four? I lost count.) so this chapter skips forward into the future a little bit, and it takes place in the real world. By now, Ash Inc. is somewhere in Johto, and the doors to Kingdom Hearts have been closed for about two months now. This chapter doesn't have much to do with the story in the long run, but it still needs to be here, you'll see why later. Notice: This chapter contains some adult language, references to self- mutilation, and thoughts of suicide. There is reason this story is rated PG- 13.
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"I wake up in the morning, Put on my face, The one that's gonna get me through another day. It doesn't really matter, How I feel inside, This life is like a game sometimes."
~~Avril Lavigne
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Sometimes I get so weird, I even freak myself out. I laugh myself to sleep, it's my lullaby.
"Stormy?"
Sometimes I drive so fast, just to feel the danger. I wanna scream, it makes me feel alive.
"Stormy? Hello."
Is it enough to love? Is it enough to breathe?
"Stormy! Wake up! We're here!"
"Mmm.hmm? Oh, we're here? Cool!
Stormy, 13-year-old child prodigy. Talented, good-looking, great sense of humor, 3.6 GPA, excellent swimmer, professional archer, and a great talker and listener. Of course, that what her friends call her. You don't give titles to yourself, like nicknames. You're not supposed to yourself your own nickname; or that's what her friends told her when they gave Stormy her nickname. Her friends call her a lot of things without her consent; not negative things, but it still bugs Stormy to no end. One of her biggest pet peeves is people talking about her behind her back; saying either negative things or taking her good qualities and outrageously exaggerating them. Anyone would be proud to have a "title" like Stormy's. Anyone, except Stormy herself. She would call herself extremely modest and selfless. Her friends would call her.just plain weird.
As you might have already noticed, her friends talk a lot of her. They aren't exactly what Stormy would call "friends", more like "church acquaintances". She doesn't hang out with them at school, she only really talks to them on Sundays and Wednesdays. It's not that she doesn't like them, for she actually likes them a lot, it's just that, she gets the feeling that they don't like her that much. Stormy is a loner, always has been, and always will be. And because of this, she thinks that they only become friendly around her because they felt sorry for her.
Speaking of Stormy and her friends, she's gonna have to get used to them being around all the time for a while now, because now it's now that magical time of the year for "sisterly bonding". Two words, Girl's Camp.
The car she was traveling in came to a stop in a dusty parking lot in front of log-cabin style ranger station at the foot of a hill. A sign posted adjacent the station read, "Welcome to Camp Greenwood". Shaking herself awake from her half-awake/half-asleep state, she turned off her CD Player and climbed out of the passenger seat of the minivan along with five other girls. She was listening her Avril Lavigne CD; she also likes listening to Incubus, Good Charlotte, No Doubt, and her favorite, Linkin Park. As she exited the van she was in, two more cars pulled up, a pickup truck and another minivan. The minivan was bringing more girls from her ward and the pickup truck was carrying all the luggage, sleeping bags, coolers, equipment, etc. The other five girls in the van Stormy was in were: Carol, Alex, Tess, Beth, and Dory. And in the other van; Anne, Helen, Colleen, Robin, and Laura. And driving the pick-up truck, Pauline, the leader of their ward; along with Kelly, the junior leader. As Stormy stood in the parking lot, stretching her legs, and inhaling big gulps of fresh mountain air, she began to eye the pickup truck with reluctance. As the bags and various other items in the truck were slowly dragged out and carried up the hill in the direction of the cabins, she knew the worst was coming. Her carryall was at the bottom of the pile, and it was HUGE. How huge you ask? When it's empty, it can easily carry the corpse of a ten-year- old and still have room left for a one-year-old infant body to lay on top of it. Stormy never looked forward to carrying it up the hill every year. But she did it nonetheless. Who else was going to? She approached the bed of the truck and sighed, "Here we go again."
Ten minutes later, after much pushing, shoving, heaving, hauling, and backbreaking effort, Stormy finally carried her enormous carryall up the hill and shoved it under her bunk. She opened up her bag, took out her pillow and sleeping bag, and started setting up her bunk area with a few things: a Good Charlotte poster, an alarm clock, her nametag, and lastly, a towel-pouch that had pockets to contain her glasses, bandanas, necklace, flashlight, camera, cash, and razor (you'll see later). Her towel-pouch had to be the most practical gift she had ever gotten. Her ward leader, Pauline, made a dozen of them last year at Girl's Camp and gave one to each of the girls in her ward as gifts. Stormy's bunk area wasn't nearly as decorated as all the other girls' bunks. But then again, there was really no need to do any decorating at all, they were only going to be there for a week, so why bother? By the way, when you take out the pillow, sleeping bag, and bathrobe out of Stormy's carryall, her clothes and other things only take up about half of it. She would rather carry everything in one big bag instead of in a bunch of smaller bags like all of the other girls did.
Unfortunately, there was little time to settle in completely. It almost time for dinner, and the "Getting To Know You" meeting was to be held in the culture hall right after it. The meeting is were the 1st year girls in each ward get introduced and get their first bead on their camp necklaces. Tons of fun.
*************Stormy's P.O.V.*****************
Mmm.that was a good dinner; chicken, mashed 'tatoes, peas, milk, and even cake for dessert! I don't understand why so many other girls won't even touch the peas. They always complain about the food, especially Helen and Laura; I swear those two were joined at the hip, they even think alike! I think a lot of the girls here are anorexic. I know a lot of sensitive people would use the term anorexic, but come on people, toughen up. I just call 'em as I see 'em, and I see most of them are afraid of getting fat. Either that or they really don't like the way the food tastes. If that's the case, then I really don't see what there is to complain about, they should be grateful for what they have. It could be worse; they could be feeding us freeze-dried food.
*~*~*~*
The Getting To Know You Meeting, also known as the yearly ritual in which each ward introduces new, confused, scared shitless first years to an audience of teenage girls who could care less about them. Yes, the poor saps stand up on the little stage, scared out of their minds, nervous as hell, as their ward leaders share with the half-listening audience (half- dreaming about the cute teenage boy staff members) their life stories. I laugh when I look back at that point in time, three years ago, when I was just like them. I don't even pay attention anymore like I used to, I sleep. Well, at least I try to sleep, Alex keeps nudging me awake.
"Dude, wake up!" whispered Alex. "Dude, leave me alone, I'm trying to sleep." I replied.
And as soon as I began doze off again.
"Ouch! What was that for?" I whispered angrily, rubbing the spot on my arm where Alex had pinched me. "Stormy! Would you stop being so rude and at least pay a little bit of attention?!" snapped Alex. I looked up towards the stage. ".Samantha also enjoys skiing, bike riding, reading romance novels." I looked back at Alex. "Mmm.nope!" I replied with a childish innocent smile on my face. Alex, giving up, sighed and returned her gaze to the stage, defeated from trying to get me to stop acting so childish. I turned my attention to Dory, sitting to the left of me (who miraculously is still awake) to strike up a little conversation with her. ".and that's not all, Mary also went to Arizona this past spring and." "Psst.Dory." I whispered, "I wanna show you something." No response. "Dory!" Still no response. "Dory!!" I whispered fiercely, poking her in the shoulder. "Ssshhh! What?" she responded," I'm trying to listen!" "Oh come on, do you really want to listen to that?" I retorted, motioning towards the stage. "...her favorite colors are orange and pink, and in her spare time she likes to..." "Okay," she admitted," not really, but it's nice to show that you're paying attention every now and then.Anyways, what is that you want to show me?" She looked down at my left arm, and I could see her face fall a little. Lowering her voice even more, she whispered, "What? Did you.make some more."
I nodded, pulling back my sleeve, revealing a series of long, horizontal slashes across the inside of my arm near the part where the forearm meets the elbow. She gave a little gasp as her eyes widened slightly.
"Oh come on," I said," it's not like you haven't seen them before."
"I know," she replied, " but still, it seems like you made more cuts since the last time I saw them."
"I know, it looks like it doesn't it? The new ones, the ones I made yesterday, are these right here." I said, pointing to a couple of slashes.
"Well," I said, looking up from my arm to my face, " I'll keep my promise and I won't tell anyone, If you'll promise me that you'll be careful when you cut yourself, okay?"
I smirked, "As careful as a cutter can be." I let out a little chuckle, pulled my sleeve back down, and looked back towards the stage.
"And that concludes our introductions for this year."
'Thank God.' I thought to myself.
".will the ward leaders please escort the girls back to their cabins now."
Yes! Finally! The torture is over!
"Stormy, come on, we're leaving now."
I can't wait for tomorrow, that's when the fun begins!
"Stormy!! Hurry up or we're gonna leave you here!"
Ah yes; making new friends, archery, Zip Line, the pool, arts and crafts.
"Come on Ma-" "MY NAME IS STORMY!" I yelled at the source of the voice. It was Anne, what a surprise. She and Alex are very tight friends, just like Helen and Laura.
I glared at her and hissed, "NObody calls me by my first name anymore." "Well, maybe if you'd came when Pauline called you the first time, then maybe I wouldn't have to," she said, smiling and patting me on the back, like an innocent, friendly pat on the back would make up for her extreme annoyance. Baka.
Ah, whatever. Nothing to get worked up over. My bunk is calling my name. I should be able to get some sleep now without Alex poking me awake.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Who am I kidding? I can't sleep, even with my cd player to help lull me to sleep; I've been laying in bed for an hour and a half now, and I'm still wide-awake. I don't want to listen to music anymore, I've tried writing in my journal, I've tried counting sheep, I don't want to read my book anymore, I don't feel like cutting myself right now either.
How could I be so stupid, I know why I can't sleep, the answer has been right in front of me all along. It's the cutting, my pain, my memories, my paranoia, my mistakes, my loneliness, my guilt..
My past.
As I slowly get out of bed and slip on my shoes, I grab my flashlight, sweatshirt, and whistle, just in case. I'm already wearing jeans and a comfortable t-shirt, so I don't need to change. I slowly and quietly open the door and step outside to take a little walk to help take my mind off things. I realize that what I'm doing right now could get me into serious trouble, but I really don't care right now.
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The night is beautiful; I can see all the stars, something you don't regularly see in the Greater Los Angeles Area. The air is fresh, free of smog, and the background sound is composed of the symphony of the crickets' chirping, and the wind blowing through the tops of the trees. The whole forest looks magical, almost eerie, with the trees, ground, rocks, and bushes drenched in the slivery moonlight. This is the reason I come to Girl's Camp every year. But even surrounded by the beauty of the night, I still can't get my mind off of the pain.
I try to get my mind off of things by reminiscing in some happy, exciting, or interesting experience in my life. Hmmm.slim pickings. You know what's interesting, the story of how I got my nickname, Stormy.
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It was last year, my second year at Girl's Camp, when Robin was a 1st year in our ward. One evening, an unexpected rainfall caught us off guard and sent all of the girls in each ward running for cover. There was a new junior leader in our ward, Kelly, and she wasn't very familiar with the lay of the land. When all the girls in our ward made it safely to our cabin, she did a headcount, but one girl was nowhere to be found. Robin was missing. As a junior leader, Kelly went out into the rain and searched for her. By now, the simple rainfall had turned into a full-on thunderstorm. She returned to the cabin, with a melancholy expression upon her face, and absolutely no clue leading to Robin's whereabouts. The park rangers of the Angeles National Forest devised a plan and set out a search party to find her; however, the plan was quickly abandoned as soon as lighting bolts struck several trees in the camp area, and party members' help was needed to help put out the fires caused by the lightning. Even with the rain, the fires were still huge. The park rangers told us to stay in our cabins until further notice, and that they would continue their search for Robin as soon as the fires were put out.
But did I listen to them? No way! I, being somewhat stubborn and having a better lay of the land than Kelly, went out on my own search. Plus, I did have some idea of where Robin might be. She said earlier that she might be going to the BB gun area to try shooting some targets. I told Kelly this before she went searching out in the rain, but she still didn't find her. Kelly said that she checked the BB gun area along with all the other game areas, but Robin was still nowhere to be found. Determined to find her, I ran out into the rain (with no raincoat _), and performed my own search. I didn't care if I got into trouble; all I cared about at that point was finding Robin.
I instinctively ran to the BB gun shooting range. It was kind of far away too; it was on the very edge of the perimeter of Camp Greenwood. I called out her name into the night, but there was no response; I wasn't expecting one either, Kelly probably already tried that. I searched in the bushes and behind the rocks in the BB gun area and all the other areas bordering it. Standing on the edge of the camp on hill, I looked and I couldn't believe my eyes. There was Robin, at the foot of the hill in a crumpled heap. The hill was steep and extremely muddy, very easy to lose your grip and slide all the way down. 'That's probably how she ended up down there.' I thought to myself as I began to slowly make my way down to where Robin was. Walking slowly down the hill with my feet parallel to the slope, I saw her move a little, 'Thank God.' I thought to myself. When I was about a foot away from her, let my feet slide the rest of way down to where she was curled up. Prying her out of her fetal position, I noticed how badly she was hurt; her glasses were broken, and one piece of glass had left a cut on face right between the eyes. Her skin was ice-cold, her entire body was layered with mud-probably from slipping down the hill-and I noticed that her ankle was in an awkward position. I checked her breathing and her pulse; her pulse was fine, but her breathing came out in short, abrupt, breaths. I unwrapped her sweater from around her waist, and helped her put it on. I helped her stand up, and slowly but surely, we went around the hill to were it wasn't so steep, and began to head back towards the cabins.
I thought for sure the next day I would be sent home early for leaving the cabin without a leader's permission and disobeying park ranger orders. I started packing up the next morning. Boy was I surprised.
That morning we had an assembly to discuss last night's event. All the park rangers, Kelly, Pauline, and Robin were standing up on the stage. They called me up to the stage, and gave me a heroine's medal. Everyone in the audience stood up and clapped for me, I was speechless. Later on, I forget exactly what happened after that, but I do remember the part where my friends gave me my nickname, Stormy; for going out into that storm and rescuing Robin.
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Ah Hell, who am I kidding?! Even a story with a happy ending like that can't bring me out my depressed mood. Seeing and remembering Robin in that fetal position, scared, desperate, bleeding, and hopeless, brings back painful memories.
The Stormy that you saw earlier, at the meeting, in the car, rescuing Robin, was not the real Stormy. Kind, caring, modest, funny, lazy, happy-go- lucky, hard working, intelligent, courageous, and innocent; those are just the masks that I like to put on around other people in hopes of finding some happiness and refuge from reality. The real Stormy is nothing like that. The real Stormy is dark, angry, depressed, paranoid, hopeless, screwed up, self-mutilating, lacking self-confidence, and suicidal. That say that ignorance is bliss, and I completely agree; the only way I am able to find a reason for living is in my imagination. There, I can sit on my feelings, and try to be happy, while saving the world, fighting along with Sora in Kingdom Hearts, catching Pokemon alongside Ash, dueling against Pegasus in the Duelist Kingdom, and any other cool ideas that happen to cross my mind. I like to blend them all together and conduct my own silent reverie. But since all this is happening in my mind, that means that painful memories hidden deep in the back of mind are prone to slipping into my daydreams and corrupting my childish, happy thoughts.
How did I get so screwed up, you ask? Well, it's because of a bunch of issues and problems piling on top of each other over the years. Early divorce, bad friendships, bad schools, bad childhood, broken trust, high expectations, lost courage, juvenile crushes, the list goes on and on. I have almost no trust or confidence at all. When I was younger, I remember telling my elementary school friends some secrets, they promised that they would keep them, but of course, the very next day they would blab them all over the whole school. The same thing happened to me over and over again throughout middle school and my freshman year in high school. I've lost all trust in the human race; I can't even trust my parents or even worse, myself. I've also lost my confidence and courage over the years as well. I can't even go up to a person the same age as me and ask them to be friends with me without getting nervous, anxious, or extremely paranoid. I have an extreme incurable fear of rejection. I'm so afraid of being rejected that I've completely given up making friends and trying to find a boyfriend. I guess I'm doomed to being a loner forever; I'll never get married, I'll never have any more friends than those outside my church, and they're only friends with me because they feel sorry for me. I don't want sympathy! All I want is someone to like for who I am!
Despite my sad and depressing demeanor, I do have some good qualities about me that are not faked or just for show. I have a very extensive vocabulary, which means I like to use big words in a lot of my sentences. I do well in school, and I have a high GPA. I like to cook, and I cook meals for my mom and I all the time. I am also very self-sacrificing; I would take a bullet and die for someone I've never met before in my whole life. Does that make me weak?
Now when I look back at that night, a year ago, when I found Robin curled up in that fetal position, I should have just curled up right next to her and let the rain wash me away.
I really don't see any reason for living, who cares if I die? Wouldn't it helpful to the population? I mean, Southern California is already overpopulated, what difference does one death make? Besides, as soon as one person dies, another one is born to take its place. As you read this sentence, four people will die, and forty babies will be born. I see no reason to live anyway, my existence is meaningless.
I've always wanted to commit suicide, but I have no courage to-hold on, wait a minute.did I just see that shadow move? I swear my eyes must be playing tricks on me. Whoa! There it is again! Is there someone else out here besides me? Wait a sec, this scene sounds familiar. Holy crap, I can see more moving shadows! On the rocks, in the trees, in the dirt, in the grass, they're everywhere! One of them is becoming solid! And another one! And another! Am I hallucinating again? What was in that chicken that I ate? They kind of look like shadow.somethings. Could they be.Shadow .Heartless?
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Those shadows that Stormy saw were indeed Shadow Heartless. Using some unknown power not seen in the Kingdom Hearts video game, they thrust their tiny little claws into the earth as some dark inky substance began to ooze from their claws, like they were implanting darkness into the earth. The darkness coming from their claws spread and infiltrated the land; it covered the trees, the soil, the sky, the stars, the cabins, the whole camp, and eventually the entire forest in a matter of a few seconds. The only place not covered by the darkness was the piece of ground where Stormy was standing. Helpless and terrified, she looked at the surrounding creatures, with a pleading look on her face as if begging for mercy. The shadows leaped up and were about to attack her when, all of the sudden, her body burst with a blinding white light. All she could see was white for one whole minute, they everything went black.
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Whoa, wh-what h-happened? The last thing I remembered was a flash of light. Owie! My head, it hurts. Am I in heaven?
Well, I'll see when I open my eyes.
Huh? I'm in a meadow? And it's daylight? Where am I? My clothes don't even look the same. Hey, this reminds me of an outfit I wore when I was ten. Wait minute, holy shit! I am ten! But...but how? Did I go back in time or something? What happened in that flash of light? Where did all those Shadow Heartless go? Where did the camp go? Why am I wearing this backpack, and what these things in here, they look like.pokeballs?
.the hell?
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What happened to Stormy? Where is she? Hahaha! You'll have to wait for the next chapter! ;P
Peace,
~~~AquaBlue1
Review! Review! Review!...Please?
Chap. 2: In The Eye Of The Storm
Hello! Welcome back to the next chapter of Out of Balance! By now, you're probably wondering whom that girl was that Ash met in his dream. And no, she's not just a vision; she's a real person! So in this chapter, you'll get to know this girl a little bit more, and how she will make up an important part of the story later on. Oh, and to clear up any confusion about the last chapter, it takes place the night before Ash got his first Pokemon. But that was three years ago, (or was it four? I lost count.) so this chapter skips forward into the future a little bit, and it takes place in the real world. By now, Ash Inc. is somewhere in Johto, and the doors to Kingdom Hearts have been closed for about two months now. This chapter doesn't have much to do with the story in the long run, but it still needs to be here, you'll see why later. Notice: This chapter contains some adult language, references to self- mutilation, and thoughts of suicide. There is reason this story is rated PG- 13.
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"I wake up in the morning, Put on my face, The one that's gonna get me through another day. It doesn't really matter, How I feel inside, This life is like a game sometimes."
~~Avril Lavigne
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Sometimes I get so weird, I even freak myself out. I laugh myself to sleep, it's my lullaby.
"Stormy?"
Sometimes I drive so fast, just to feel the danger. I wanna scream, it makes me feel alive.
"Stormy? Hello."
Is it enough to love? Is it enough to breathe?
"Stormy! Wake up! We're here!"
"Mmm.hmm? Oh, we're here? Cool!
Stormy, 13-year-old child prodigy. Talented, good-looking, great sense of humor, 3.6 GPA, excellent swimmer, professional archer, and a great talker and listener. Of course, that what her friends call her. You don't give titles to yourself, like nicknames. You're not supposed to yourself your own nickname; or that's what her friends told her when they gave Stormy her nickname. Her friends call her a lot of things without her consent; not negative things, but it still bugs Stormy to no end. One of her biggest pet peeves is people talking about her behind her back; saying either negative things or taking her good qualities and outrageously exaggerating them. Anyone would be proud to have a "title" like Stormy's. Anyone, except Stormy herself. She would call herself extremely modest and selfless. Her friends would call her.just plain weird.
As you might have already noticed, her friends talk a lot of her. They aren't exactly what Stormy would call "friends", more like "church acquaintances". She doesn't hang out with them at school, she only really talks to them on Sundays and Wednesdays. It's not that she doesn't like them, for she actually likes them a lot, it's just that, she gets the feeling that they don't like her that much. Stormy is a loner, always has been, and always will be. And because of this, she thinks that they only become friendly around her because they felt sorry for her.
Speaking of Stormy and her friends, she's gonna have to get used to them being around all the time for a while now, because now it's now that magical time of the year for "sisterly bonding". Two words, Girl's Camp.
The car she was traveling in came to a stop in a dusty parking lot in front of log-cabin style ranger station at the foot of a hill. A sign posted adjacent the station read, "Welcome to Camp Greenwood". Shaking herself awake from her half-awake/half-asleep state, she turned off her CD Player and climbed out of the passenger seat of the minivan along with five other girls. She was listening her Avril Lavigne CD; she also likes listening to Incubus, Good Charlotte, No Doubt, and her favorite, Linkin Park. As she exited the van she was in, two more cars pulled up, a pickup truck and another minivan. The minivan was bringing more girls from her ward and the pickup truck was carrying all the luggage, sleeping bags, coolers, equipment, etc. The other five girls in the van Stormy was in were: Carol, Alex, Tess, Beth, and Dory. And in the other van; Anne, Helen, Colleen, Robin, and Laura. And driving the pick-up truck, Pauline, the leader of their ward; along with Kelly, the junior leader. As Stormy stood in the parking lot, stretching her legs, and inhaling big gulps of fresh mountain air, she began to eye the pickup truck with reluctance. As the bags and various other items in the truck were slowly dragged out and carried up the hill in the direction of the cabins, she knew the worst was coming. Her carryall was at the bottom of the pile, and it was HUGE. How huge you ask? When it's empty, it can easily carry the corpse of a ten-year- old and still have room left for a one-year-old infant body to lay on top of it. Stormy never looked forward to carrying it up the hill every year. But she did it nonetheless. Who else was going to? She approached the bed of the truck and sighed, "Here we go again."
Ten minutes later, after much pushing, shoving, heaving, hauling, and backbreaking effort, Stormy finally carried her enormous carryall up the hill and shoved it under her bunk. She opened up her bag, took out her pillow and sleeping bag, and started setting up her bunk area with a few things: a Good Charlotte poster, an alarm clock, her nametag, and lastly, a towel-pouch that had pockets to contain her glasses, bandanas, necklace, flashlight, camera, cash, and razor (you'll see later). Her towel-pouch had to be the most practical gift she had ever gotten. Her ward leader, Pauline, made a dozen of them last year at Girl's Camp and gave one to each of the girls in her ward as gifts. Stormy's bunk area wasn't nearly as decorated as all the other girls' bunks. But then again, there was really no need to do any decorating at all, they were only going to be there for a week, so why bother? By the way, when you take out the pillow, sleeping bag, and bathrobe out of Stormy's carryall, her clothes and other things only take up about half of it. She would rather carry everything in one big bag instead of in a bunch of smaller bags like all of the other girls did.
Unfortunately, there was little time to settle in completely. It almost time for dinner, and the "Getting To Know You" meeting was to be held in the culture hall right after it. The meeting is were the 1st year girls in each ward get introduced and get their first bead on their camp necklaces. Tons of fun.
*************Stormy's P.O.V.*****************
Mmm.that was a good dinner; chicken, mashed 'tatoes, peas, milk, and even cake for dessert! I don't understand why so many other girls won't even touch the peas. They always complain about the food, especially Helen and Laura; I swear those two were joined at the hip, they even think alike! I think a lot of the girls here are anorexic. I know a lot of sensitive people would use the term anorexic, but come on people, toughen up. I just call 'em as I see 'em, and I see most of them are afraid of getting fat. Either that or they really don't like the way the food tastes. If that's the case, then I really don't see what there is to complain about, they should be grateful for what they have. It could be worse; they could be feeding us freeze-dried food.
*~*~*~*
The Getting To Know You Meeting, also known as the yearly ritual in which each ward introduces new, confused, scared shitless first years to an audience of teenage girls who could care less about them. Yes, the poor saps stand up on the little stage, scared out of their minds, nervous as hell, as their ward leaders share with the half-listening audience (half- dreaming about the cute teenage boy staff members) their life stories. I laugh when I look back at that point in time, three years ago, when I was just like them. I don't even pay attention anymore like I used to, I sleep. Well, at least I try to sleep, Alex keeps nudging me awake.
"Dude, wake up!" whispered Alex. "Dude, leave me alone, I'm trying to sleep." I replied.
And as soon as I began doze off again.
"Ouch! What was that for?" I whispered angrily, rubbing the spot on my arm where Alex had pinched me. "Stormy! Would you stop being so rude and at least pay a little bit of attention?!" snapped Alex. I looked up towards the stage. ".Samantha also enjoys skiing, bike riding, reading romance novels." I looked back at Alex. "Mmm.nope!" I replied with a childish innocent smile on my face. Alex, giving up, sighed and returned her gaze to the stage, defeated from trying to get me to stop acting so childish. I turned my attention to Dory, sitting to the left of me (who miraculously is still awake) to strike up a little conversation with her. ".and that's not all, Mary also went to Arizona this past spring and." "Psst.Dory." I whispered, "I wanna show you something." No response. "Dory!" Still no response. "Dory!!" I whispered fiercely, poking her in the shoulder. "Ssshhh! What?" she responded," I'm trying to listen!" "Oh come on, do you really want to listen to that?" I retorted, motioning towards the stage. "...her favorite colors are orange and pink, and in her spare time she likes to..." "Okay," she admitted," not really, but it's nice to show that you're paying attention every now and then.Anyways, what is that you want to show me?" She looked down at my left arm, and I could see her face fall a little. Lowering her voice even more, she whispered, "What? Did you.make some more."
I nodded, pulling back my sleeve, revealing a series of long, horizontal slashes across the inside of my arm near the part where the forearm meets the elbow. She gave a little gasp as her eyes widened slightly.
"Oh come on," I said," it's not like you haven't seen them before."
"I know," she replied, " but still, it seems like you made more cuts since the last time I saw them."
"I know, it looks like it doesn't it? The new ones, the ones I made yesterday, are these right here." I said, pointing to a couple of slashes.
"Well," I said, looking up from my arm to my face, " I'll keep my promise and I won't tell anyone, If you'll promise me that you'll be careful when you cut yourself, okay?"
I smirked, "As careful as a cutter can be." I let out a little chuckle, pulled my sleeve back down, and looked back towards the stage.
"And that concludes our introductions for this year."
'Thank God.' I thought to myself.
".will the ward leaders please escort the girls back to their cabins now."
Yes! Finally! The torture is over!
"Stormy, come on, we're leaving now."
I can't wait for tomorrow, that's when the fun begins!
"Stormy!! Hurry up or we're gonna leave you here!"
Ah yes; making new friends, archery, Zip Line, the pool, arts and crafts.
"Come on Ma-" "MY NAME IS STORMY!" I yelled at the source of the voice. It was Anne, what a surprise. She and Alex are very tight friends, just like Helen and Laura.
I glared at her and hissed, "NObody calls me by my first name anymore." "Well, maybe if you'd came when Pauline called you the first time, then maybe I wouldn't have to," she said, smiling and patting me on the back, like an innocent, friendly pat on the back would make up for her extreme annoyance. Baka.
Ah, whatever. Nothing to get worked up over. My bunk is calling my name. I should be able to get some sleep now without Alex poking me awake.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Who am I kidding? I can't sleep, even with my cd player to help lull me to sleep; I've been laying in bed for an hour and a half now, and I'm still wide-awake. I don't want to listen to music anymore, I've tried writing in my journal, I've tried counting sheep, I don't want to read my book anymore, I don't feel like cutting myself right now either.
How could I be so stupid, I know why I can't sleep, the answer has been right in front of me all along. It's the cutting, my pain, my memories, my paranoia, my mistakes, my loneliness, my guilt..
My past.
As I slowly get out of bed and slip on my shoes, I grab my flashlight, sweatshirt, and whistle, just in case. I'm already wearing jeans and a comfortable t-shirt, so I don't need to change. I slowly and quietly open the door and step outside to take a little walk to help take my mind off things. I realize that what I'm doing right now could get me into serious trouble, but I really don't care right now.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The night is beautiful; I can see all the stars, something you don't regularly see in the Greater Los Angeles Area. The air is fresh, free of smog, and the background sound is composed of the symphony of the crickets' chirping, and the wind blowing through the tops of the trees. The whole forest looks magical, almost eerie, with the trees, ground, rocks, and bushes drenched in the slivery moonlight. This is the reason I come to Girl's Camp every year. But even surrounded by the beauty of the night, I still can't get my mind off of the pain.
I try to get my mind off of things by reminiscing in some happy, exciting, or interesting experience in my life. Hmmm.slim pickings. You know what's interesting, the story of how I got my nickname, Stormy.
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It was last year, my second year at Girl's Camp, when Robin was a 1st year in our ward. One evening, an unexpected rainfall caught us off guard and sent all of the girls in each ward running for cover. There was a new junior leader in our ward, Kelly, and she wasn't very familiar with the lay of the land. When all the girls in our ward made it safely to our cabin, she did a headcount, but one girl was nowhere to be found. Robin was missing. As a junior leader, Kelly went out into the rain and searched for her. By now, the simple rainfall had turned into a full-on thunderstorm. She returned to the cabin, with a melancholy expression upon her face, and absolutely no clue leading to Robin's whereabouts. The park rangers of the Angeles National Forest devised a plan and set out a search party to find her; however, the plan was quickly abandoned as soon as lighting bolts struck several trees in the camp area, and party members' help was needed to help put out the fires caused by the lightning. Even with the rain, the fires were still huge. The park rangers told us to stay in our cabins until further notice, and that they would continue their search for Robin as soon as the fires were put out.
But did I listen to them? No way! I, being somewhat stubborn and having a better lay of the land than Kelly, went out on my own search. Plus, I did have some idea of where Robin might be. She said earlier that she might be going to the BB gun area to try shooting some targets. I told Kelly this before she went searching out in the rain, but she still didn't find her. Kelly said that she checked the BB gun area along with all the other game areas, but Robin was still nowhere to be found. Determined to find her, I ran out into the rain (with no raincoat _), and performed my own search. I didn't care if I got into trouble; all I cared about at that point was finding Robin.
I instinctively ran to the BB gun shooting range. It was kind of far away too; it was on the very edge of the perimeter of Camp Greenwood. I called out her name into the night, but there was no response; I wasn't expecting one either, Kelly probably already tried that. I searched in the bushes and behind the rocks in the BB gun area and all the other areas bordering it. Standing on the edge of the camp on hill, I looked and I couldn't believe my eyes. There was Robin, at the foot of the hill in a crumpled heap. The hill was steep and extremely muddy, very easy to lose your grip and slide all the way down. 'That's probably how she ended up down there.' I thought to myself as I began to slowly make my way down to where Robin was. Walking slowly down the hill with my feet parallel to the slope, I saw her move a little, 'Thank God.' I thought to myself. When I was about a foot away from her, let my feet slide the rest of way down to where she was curled up. Prying her out of her fetal position, I noticed how badly she was hurt; her glasses were broken, and one piece of glass had left a cut on face right between the eyes. Her skin was ice-cold, her entire body was layered with mud-probably from slipping down the hill-and I noticed that her ankle was in an awkward position. I checked her breathing and her pulse; her pulse was fine, but her breathing came out in short, abrupt, breaths. I unwrapped her sweater from around her waist, and helped her put it on. I helped her stand up, and slowly but surely, we went around the hill to were it wasn't so steep, and began to head back towards the cabins.
I thought for sure the next day I would be sent home early for leaving the cabin without a leader's permission and disobeying park ranger orders. I started packing up the next morning. Boy was I surprised.
That morning we had an assembly to discuss last night's event. All the park rangers, Kelly, Pauline, and Robin were standing up on the stage. They called me up to the stage, and gave me a heroine's medal. Everyone in the audience stood up and clapped for me, I was speechless. Later on, I forget exactly what happened after that, but I do remember the part where my friends gave me my nickname, Stormy; for going out into that storm and rescuing Robin.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ah Hell, who am I kidding?! Even a story with a happy ending like that can't bring me out my depressed mood. Seeing and remembering Robin in that fetal position, scared, desperate, bleeding, and hopeless, brings back painful memories.
The Stormy that you saw earlier, at the meeting, in the car, rescuing Robin, was not the real Stormy. Kind, caring, modest, funny, lazy, happy-go- lucky, hard working, intelligent, courageous, and innocent; those are just the masks that I like to put on around other people in hopes of finding some happiness and refuge from reality. The real Stormy is nothing like that. The real Stormy is dark, angry, depressed, paranoid, hopeless, screwed up, self-mutilating, lacking self-confidence, and suicidal. That say that ignorance is bliss, and I completely agree; the only way I am able to find a reason for living is in my imagination. There, I can sit on my feelings, and try to be happy, while saving the world, fighting along with Sora in Kingdom Hearts, catching Pokemon alongside Ash, dueling against Pegasus in the Duelist Kingdom, and any other cool ideas that happen to cross my mind. I like to blend them all together and conduct my own silent reverie. But since all this is happening in my mind, that means that painful memories hidden deep in the back of mind are prone to slipping into my daydreams and corrupting my childish, happy thoughts.
How did I get so screwed up, you ask? Well, it's because of a bunch of issues and problems piling on top of each other over the years. Early divorce, bad friendships, bad schools, bad childhood, broken trust, high expectations, lost courage, juvenile crushes, the list goes on and on. I have almost no trust or confidence at all. When I was younger, I remember telling my elementary school friends some secrets, they promised that they would keep them, but of course, the very next day they would blab them all over the whole school. The same thing happened to me over and over again throughout middle school and my freshman year in high school. I've lost all trust in the human race; I can't even trust my parents or even worse, myself. I've also lost my confidence and courage over the years as well. I can't even go up to a person the same age as me and ask them to be friends with me without getting nervous, anxious, or extremely paranoid. I have an extreme incurable fear of rejection. I'm so afraid of being rejected that I've completely given up making friends and trying to find a boyfriend. I guess I'm doomed to being a loner forever; I'll never get married, I'll never have any more friends than those outside my church, and they're only friends with me because they feel sorry for me. I don't want sympathy! All I want is someone to like for who I am!
Despite my sad and depressing demeanor, I do have some good qualities about me that are not faked or just for show. I have a very extensive vocabulary, which means I like to use big words in a lot of my sentences. I do well in school, and I have a high GPA. I like to cook, and I cook meals for my mom and I all the time. I am also very self-sacrificing; I would take a bullet and die for someone I've never met before in my whole life. Does that make me weak?
Now when I look back at that night, a year ago, when I found Robin curled up in that fetal position, I should have just curled up right next to her and let the rain wash me away.
I really don't see any reason for living, who cares if I die? Wouldn't it helpful to the population? I mean, Southern California is already overpopulated, what difference does one death make? Besides, as soon as one person dies, another one is born to take its place. As you read this sentence, four people will die, and forty babies will be born. I see no reason to live anyway, my existence is meaningless.
I've always wanted to commit suicide, but I have no courage to-hold on, wait a minute.did I just see that shadow move? I swear my eyes must be playing tricks on me. Whoa! There it is again! Is there someone else out here besides me? Wait a sec, this scene sounds familiar. Holy crap, I can see more moving shadows! On the rocks, in the trees, in the dirt, in the grass, they're everywhere! One of them is becoming solid! And another one! And another! Am I hallucinating again? What was in that chicken that I ate? They kind of look like shadow.somethings. Could they be.Shadow .Heartless?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Those shadows that Stormy saw were indeed Shadow Heartless. Using some unknown power not seen in the Kingdom Hearts video game, they thrust their tiny little claws into the earth as some dark inky substance began to ooze from their claws, like they were implanting darkness into the earth. The darkness coming from their claws spread and infiltrated the land; it covered the trees, the soil, the sky, the stars, the cabins, the whole camp, and eventually the entire forest in a matter of a few seconds. The only place not covered by the darkness was the piece of ground where Stormy was standing. Helpless and terrified, she looked at the surrounding creatures, with a pleading look on her face as if begging for mercy. The shadows leaped up and were about to attack her when, all of the sudden, her body burst with a blinding white light. All she could see was white for one whole minute, they everything went black.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Whoa, wh-what h-happened? The last thing I remembered was a flash of light. Owie! My head, it hurts. Am I in heaven?
Well, I'll see when I open my eyes.
Huh? I'm in a meadow? And it's daylight? Where am I? My clothes don't even look the same. Hey, this reminds me of an outfit I wore when I was ten. Wait minute, holy shit! I am ten! But...but how? Did I go back in time or something? What happened in that flash of light? Where did all those Shadow Heartless go? Where did the camp go? Why am I wearing this backpack, and what these things in here, they look like.pokeballs?
.the hell?
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What happened to Stormy? Where is she? Hahaha! You'll have to wait for the next chapter! ;P
Peace,
~~~AquaBlue1
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