Title: The River of Somnolence

Summary: Typical girl-gets-dropped-into-ME, Legomance, and 10th Walker story, only hopefully not so typical. Not a Mary Sue. Please R&R! ^^

Rating: PG-13 for later violence. Muahaha! *evil laughter*

Disclaimer: If you don't recognize something, it's mine.

A/N: Argh! Why must I do this? Why?! This is going to be my, what, fourth story in progress? I always do this; I start another story before I finish the first one. But when an idea gets in my head I just have to write it down! Oh well. I'll try to update my other ones soon.

I'm using the movies as my main guidelines. I'll be throwing odds and ends from the books in, though, as I go along.

Well, here's the first chapter!

* * *

Chapter 1: Night in the Forest

Golden brown leaves fell in swirls of color to the forest floor. The sun's warm rays filtered through the leafy tree tops and splayed on the ground, creating beautiful designs. The leaves crunched merrily under my feet as I breathed in the fresh air happily. As I walked along, a low growl met my ears. I halted and narrowed my eyes, listening for any more movements.

Suddenly, a wild monster leapt out of the surrounding foliage. It was a thing from your worst nightmares. Shaped like a man, it was stooped and had disgusting dark, leathery skin which was dripping with nauseating ooze. Strange rings and hoops were pierced all over its face and ears and it was dressed in dirty rags. In its hand was a crude blade, seemingly in between a sword and an axe. It glared at me and growled as I stared back at it, unafraid.

As we started circling, my right hand reached towards my left hip and I slowly unsheathed a magnificent sword. It was of the strongest steel with a simple hilt overlaid in silver. In the middle of the pommel was a single black stone. I held it straight out in front of myself and crouched into a fighter's stance as I circled my prey. . .

"Natasha!"

I started in my seat. I sighed, taking my chin out of my palm, and turned away from the window to face my teacher. The scowl on my face dutifully smoothed to an artificially guilty expression. My math teacher, Mrs. Porter, was an irate woman with an incredibly large girth and a red, puffed face that greatly resembled a bloated, rabid manatee. I had never seen a bloated, rabid manatee but I imagined that Mrs. Porter could easily pass off as one.

Maybe I could kidnap her and sell her to a fancy zoo somewhere. They'd probably pay a mint for a genuine bloated, rabid manatee. But then Mrs. Porter would obviously need a suitable manatee-ish name. Like Puffy. Yes, Puffy fit her very well. I smiled, quite pleased with myself when an infuriated squawk from Puffy brought me back to the present situation.  

"And just what are you smiling about, Miss Damon?!"

I looked up with an innocent expression, ignoring the stares I was receiving from my classmates. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mrs. Puff—Porter."

Whew. That was close. I doubted that my teacher would appreciate being called Puffy. At least the Mrs. in front of it would have saved me a bit. However, judging from the fact that Mrs. Porter's face had turned a decidedly redder hue and her mouth was opening and closing like a demented goldfish, she obviously didn't appreciate being called Mrs. Puff-Porter either.

My ears and pride were saved from a torturously boring, high-pitched, and public lecture on respect, attentiveness, and all those other things that teachers like to prattle on about (but that no one cares about), when the bell rang. It was 3:30. School was out.

Well, hallelujah and praise the lord! With a small whoop, I scooped my books into my backpack and dashed from the room as fast as my skirt would let me. Darn uniform. I tripped out into the hallway and swiftly made my way to my locker. Tossing my backpack down between my feet, I attacked the lock fiercely, muttering obscenities under my breath as I fought with the stubborn combination.

Let's see now . . . 567025—no wait. That's not right. 567205, a sharp rap with my knuckles, and voila! I smiled triumphantly as the rusty locker creaked noisily open, voicing its protests against movement. Shoving my things inside, I slammed it shut, twirled around and strolled away down the hall. Friday was now over and I had the whole weekend ahead of me.

My ears twitched as I heard familiar footsteps approaching. I scowled. Couldn't he leave me alone? With my black hair and orange eyes, everyone normally did there best to avoid me. All except one person. Christopher Nathanial Bartholomew Wordsworthington the Third.

The name pretty much says it all. He was about six feet tall with unkempt hair that was blond-bordering-on-brown, a face full of angry looking zits, braces complete with headgear, and a .7 mm neon green mechanical pencil which was seemingly attached to his hand. Typical geek. Yeah, you know the one.

Actually, though, if he lost the braces and headgear, got a deeper voice, had a clear complexion, got a haircut, and got a complete personality change, he might have been pretty hot. But as it was, he was an ugly twerp that was annoying as hell.  Christopher Nathanial Bartholomew Wordsworthington the Third, fondly (cough) referred to as Chris, was the only person that wasn't frightened of me. Everyone else called me the Demon. Yep. Damon the Demon, that's me. Chris, on the other hand, took the exact opposite approach. To him, I was a goddess. A siren. An angel of light and mercy. He practically worshiped the ground I walked on.

That pencil of his, by the way, had been a gift from me. He had borrowed it once and I had told him to, "Just keep it. I have millions of them anyway." Immediately he had started crowing about how generous I was. How giving! Oh, I was such a wonderful woman! He would be the father of my children! I gagged. You can obviously see why I did not want him to catch up with me.

Speeding up, I delved into a crowd of freshmen and swiftly made my way out the exit. I smiled and breathed in the crisp autumn air. This was my favorite season. The temperature was just right and everything was so beautiful. The trees were standing proudly in all their crimson and golden glory and little animals were constantly skittering about in their quest for food for the long winter months.

Walking down the sidewalk, I headed towards the richer portion of the city. On both sides of the road, huge houses rose with multiple stories and vast well-kept lawns and gardens. Without looking right or left, I walked past all of the wealthy homes and turned into a small, poor development at the very end. Entering a shabby blue ranch, I threw her backpack onto a ratty couch.

"Mom! I'm home!"

Silence . . . and then a small, "Hic."

I sighed and rolled her eyes. Not again. The sight in the kitchen confirmed my fears. A flabby woman looking to be in her mid-to-late forties was sprawled out on the floor with five empty beer bottles next to her and a quarter filled one in her hand.

My mother was drunk. Again.

Suppressing a weary sigh, I grabbed all six bottles and threw them into a nearby trashcan. I grimaced and shot my mother a disgusted look before stomping back out into the living room.

Ever since my father had died four years ago and left quite a tidy sum to my mother, the older woman had gotten it into her head that her days as a working woman were over and she could spend the rest of her days rotting from booze. While it was true that she no longer needed to work, that was no excuse to move into a house that could easily have been mistaken for a large dumpster and waste money on liquor instead of bettering her daughter's education.

I snorted. My mother would easily drink herself into an early grave and leave me an orphan. How selfish could a person be! True, Papa's death was a terrible blow, but my goodness! I had learned to cope and so should she! But no, getting hammered on a daily basis was better. I shook my head. I would never understand that woman.

Rubbing my eyes, I sighed. I needed a break. School was horrible, home was horrible, everything was horrible. I really needed a break. A vacation. But where could I go? I scrunched my face up in thought. My mom would never take me anywhere, I didn't have any money, and we didn't own a car. My face suddenly lit up.

Camping! Of course! There was a large forest, behind the trailer park, that was allegedly "haunted". According to legend, a man had gone into it once and had never been seen again. What rubbish! The forest itself, or at least what little of it could be seen from my trailer, was beautiful and the perfect place for a relaxing overnight camping trip with just me and Solitude.

Solitude was my pet. Well, I couldn't really call the hawk my pet because it wasn't really tame. Solitude was a beautiful red tailed hawk that lived in the forest and came and went at will, although basically it only left when I went to school.

Opening the back door, I grabbed a large square piece of sturdy leather with thick strips connected to the sides; it was laying on the railing for the porch. Wrapping it around my right arm, I tied it securely with the strips. Putting my thumb and index finger to my lips, I blew as hard as I could. I scowled as all I ended up doing was blowing a very large raspberry. Sighing in resignation, I pursed my lips together, let out an ear-piercing whistle, and waited patiently. Sure enough, only a few moments passed before a loud shriek greeted my ears and a small brown shape flew out of the dense grove of trees.

I grinned as Solitude alighted onto my protected arm and gave me a small squawk in greeting. It lowered its head and I smiled fondly before complying and reached out to scratch the back of its neck.

"How are ya, Sol? Did you catch some nice squirrels out there? Hm?" 

I laughed as the hawk grabbed a chunk of my hair with its beak and tugged playfully.

"Hey! That's all I've got you know! See how you like it!"

Reaching out, I tugged on a feather and Solitude squawked at me indignantly.

"See?" I smiled smugly and Solitude glowered at me before flying off into the trailer in a huff.

I rolled her eyes as I followed it back inside. "Damn moody bird's got PMS. Is that even possible?"

Shaking my head, I walked past the couch that Solitude had chosen to perch upon and went into my purple bedroom. Stripping off my plaid school uniform, I put on a plain pair of jean shorts, a green tank top, a pair of black boots, and a navy blue zip-up hoodie. Not bothering to fold my uniform, I threw it into my closet and picked up a black backpack. Walking back into the kitchen, I dumped the contents out onto the floor next to my mother. Then I went through the house, picking up random things and dropping them into the backpack.

"Ok. What to bring . . . aha! My CD player! Gotta have that."

Taking it, I started to move off before smacking my forehead and grabbing a few CDs.

"Stupid me. What good's a CD player without CDs? Ok, which ones, Sol? Evanescence, System of a Down, Puddle of Mudd, Hoobastank, or Rammstein?"

Solitude simply blinked.

I nodded. "Yeah, I thought so too." I dropped them all in.  A few minutes later, the backpack was fit to burst and I dropped it down next to the couch with a thud, causing Solitude to start and flutter its wings a bit.

"Alrighty, we've got CDs, lots of extra batteries, a couple of blankets, some hot dogs, flint, some matches incase that doesn't work, a lighter incase that doesn't work," I counted them all off on my fingers, "my camera, an extra pair of socks, a few candy bars, some soap, my little lucky pillow," I squealed and squeezed said pillow to myself, "a knife, a hat, and a flashlight. Is that all we need? I guess so. Ok, let's—wait! Bug spray!"

I darted into another room and soon reappeared with a small spray can in my hand. Tossing it into the backpack, I hefted the overflowing bag onto my back and trudged out of the trailer, being sure to lock the door behind me after Solitude flew out. With a bright smile, I jogged to the forest, Solitude slowly flying about ten feet in front of me.

I indulged in a small skip. What a beautiful day it was! The sun that had been riding high in the sky was now slowly descending to the horizon as the afternoon came to a close. A thin layer of clouds covered the sky causing the blue to be several shades darker. The air was perfect, not cool but not warm. You know how it is when the temperature is about the same as your skin so you don't feel it at all? Well that's how it was. It was a day that made you feel happy to be alive, and was I ever.

Finally reaching the forest, I stopped at the edge and gazed into it. It did have a somewhat eerie quality to it. The treetops were extremely dense so that barely any of the dim evening light filtered through to the soft loam of the forest floor. The trees rustled with unseen arboreal creatures, and the ground level of the dark woodlands was extremely still and silent in comparison. Shivering slightly, I pulled my jacket around myself tighter and grinned madly. This was going to be fun!

Trotting into the forest, I started whistling merrily. The sound was muted in the smothering stillness and I soon trailed off, being content with merely the noisy sound of pattering feet. I did a double take. Wait a minute, pattering feet? My footsteps were silent! Okay, maybe not silent but I did pride myself on walking pretty quietly. They were definitely quieter then that! Halting abruptly, I cocked my head, listening intently.

Yes, that was definitely the sound of someone walking. A male, and attempting to tread lightly, from the sound of it. I judged him to be pretty tall, as the footsteps were spaced relatively far apart. This meant his strides were longer so he was either running or tall. The footsteps were light enough where he was definitely not running so I rested with the conclusion that he was tall.

They were gradually becoming louder so I assumed that he was walking towards me. All this meant either one of two things. One was that he was sneaking up to or following me. The second, that he was sneaking away from something and just happened to be going in my direction. Both brought up one question. Why?

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. I tensed and held my right arm out straight, the silent signal for Solitary to return if within viewing distance. A rustling of wings alerted me and Solitary flew down from a nearby tree, landing on my arm with a loud shriek and a mad fluttering of wings.

I swore under her breath. So much for being silent. Hushing Solitude, I listened once again. The telltale footsteps were hurriedly moving off in the opposite direction. When I could hear them no more, I sighed with relief and relaxed, the tension flowing out of my body.

I definitely didn't want to run into a strange man in the middle of a creepy forest. Especially when the only weapon that I had was a small knife, which I didn't even know how to really use. All I knew was that you put the pointy end into the other person. I giggled. Well, that sounded quite professional!

Hefting my backpack higher up onto my shoulders, I began trotting once again, my feet falling silently (ha!) onto the muddy earth. As I absently looked up at the sky, I tripped over a large tree root and splatted against the ground. Mentally cursing all tree roots, I groaned and picked myself up. Looking about, I noticed that I had stumbled into a cozy little clearing.

It was a perfect circle. On one side was a large boulder with smaller ones on the sides. Sticks of all sizes were scattered about the small glade and a large stream was running through the middle. I looked about happily.

"Well, Sol," I turned my head to my animal companion, "this place looks like it'll make a cozy berth for the night." I regarded the large stream dubiously. "Now if we can just get across this creek . . ."

Walking up to it, I noticed happily that there were a few stones in the center and along the other side.

"Perfect stepping stones!"

Crouching slightly, I jumped out and landed on a rock. Waving my arms wildly to keep my balance, I managed to hop onto another stone, splashing myself quite a bit whilst doing so. Jumping to the next one, my foot slipped and I fell halfway into the clear water.

It was cold!

Leaping upright, I sprinted through the water the rest of the way and safely reached the other bank.

I groaned as I lifted a foot to examine the soggy shoe. I squelched over to the boulders and plopped down beneath the largest one, noting in satisfaction the snug little alcove underneath the front.  Settling down, I grabbed a few sticks lying handy nearby and made a little pile of them. Opening up my backpack, I didn't even bother with the flint and went straight to the matches. Sprinkling a few leaves on her firewood, I lit a match and placed it next to the leaves.

To my delight, a small flame leapt up and I quickly fed it with more sticks and leaves. When I had a proper small fire going, I took off my boots, and changed into a clean pair of socks. Setting my boots in front of the fire to dry, I rummaged through my bag until I found the package of hot dogs.

"Hey, Solitude!"

I smiled as the hawk flew to my side.

"Here you go," I said, handing Solitude a raw hot dog.

Grabbing the meat with its beak, the bird flew off with its meal. I, however, enjoyed cooked meat so I spit the hot dog on a stick and held it out over the fire. A few minutes later, it was done to perfection and I put it on a leaf to cool.

"Mama mia!" I cried, using a bad Italian accent. I kissed my finger tips. "Molto bene e magnifico!"

Giggling to myself, I ate the hot dog hungrily. Then I set out the blanket in front of the fire, yawning hugely. I yawned again and flopped backwards onto my makeshift bed. Why was I so tired? It was only . . . I checked my watch. Only 7:30. I usually went to bed around 10:00. Oh well, I'd explore some tomorrow.

Feeling rather thirsty, I staggered upright and stumbled over to the stream. Kneeling down, I cupped some of the cool, clear water in my hands and drank it. My eyes widened in surprise. It was good! Not just good, it was wonderful! It was cool and sweet and twenty times better than any bottled water I had ever tasted, and I was a sucker for bottled water. Filling my cupped hands again, I gulped the water down greedily until my thirst was quenched.

Sitting up, I patted my stomach and sighed happily. I was in the great outdoors. I was full and warm. I yawned and scratched my head ruefully. And she was extremely tired. Suddenly, a sense of weariness hit her like none other she had ever felt before in all her eighteen years. Before she had time to think, she slumped over and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

A/N:  Please read and review! I'll give you a cookie! *hopeful smile*