Living in My Dream
Summary:
Rachel has everything a girl could ever wish for; money, friends, protection and unlimited freedom. Or does she? As the daughter of a Cabinet Minister in Canada, Rach has more opportunities in life than most 13 year olds. Yet, while she might have money, her parents put heavy restrictions on what she is to buy. She might have friends, but they're only putting up with her to look good in Society's eyes. Her protective bodyguard, Lars, and her maid, Anna, were the only ones whom Rach felt cared about her well-being. In a feeble attempt to assassinate the daughter an important political figure, she escapes this life of misery, lies and restrictions, leading her to the kingdom of Tortall. What adventures awaits this lonely, neglected girl in the wide realms of Tortall?
Disclaimer:
I have multiple names; Tamora Pierce, Meg Cabot and J.K. Rowling. Note the dripping sarcasm. Therefore, I am not the people who wrote the following books: all of the novels based in Tortall and Emelan, The Princess Diaries, and Harry Potter. All characters except for a certain Rachel Reeves, her parents, her maid Anna, and Jeannette belong to these authors.
Prologue:
Miserably, a young teen sits slouched in the passenger seat of a Mercedes-Benz. No, the car does not belong to her. It doesn't even belong to the bulky man driving the vehicle. The car is her father's, and Rachel Reeves is on her way, along with her bodyguard and companion, Lars, to a dinner party hosted by one of her father's colleagues. Why, you ask, would a young girl of thirteen be in attendance of a political dinner party? It is her father's scheme. In order to attempt to break a small political deadlock between two powerful parties, her father is counting on Rachel's cleverness and wit to charm the leader of the opposition party. Rachel sighs, wondering if there was ever a time her father saw her as anything but a tool of obedience. Probably not. Even her mother neglected Rachel, the life of parties and alcohol taking her over. The most Rachel could ever remember her mother saying to her would usually be said over and over:
FLASHBACK
"Now Rachel, darling, I want you to be a good little girl, act nice to your father's friends, and please, fix your hair. It looks as limp as grass."
END FLASHBACK
It was what her mother said to her all the time, before taking Rachel's hand and leading her inside grand houses, only to be swept away by petty, beautified ladies who insisted on stealing her mother away for 'a little chat'.
Rachel sighs heavily again, then looks out of the corner of her eyes at her life-time companion. Her maid, Anna, once told her that ever since the moment she was born Lars had been assigned to protect Rachel for life.
"From what?" Rachel had asked. "Who would ever want to hurt me?" But Anna had just shaken her head and continued to straighten Rachel's room. It was only later on in life, Rachel learned that a band of radical renegades were after the political party her father led. They wanted to destroy the goals and dreams of the party, because it they did not benefit to the members of the band. Lars was there to make sure no harm ever came to Rachel, even if he had to put himself in the line of fire.
Rachel shifts restlessly, then winces. Her woolen undergarments and dress Anna had forced her into dug into her skin and scratched at her mercilessly.
FLASHBACK
"It's not as if people will turn to stare at me!" she protested. "I'm ugly enough as it is!!!"
However, nothing would budge the stubborn maid. "Your mother pays me to insure that you look your best in public, wherever you go." And that was the end of that.
END FLASHBACK
The only thing Rachel had ever gotten away with was forcing her limp hair into rollers. Her mother could sigh as much as she wanted, and Anna could plead, whine and bully until the end of time, but even her father understood the pains of beauty, and did not want to distress his daughter with an agonizing life like that.
FLASHBACK
"I don't care if you think that Rach would look better if Anna curled her hair, or brushed on powder, if Rach doesn't want that, then it won't happen. I don't want anything to distress Rachel, especially when we need this allegiance," was his retort.
END FLASKBACK
Rachel had inherited her father's rich, black hair, which hung limp and straight. Her mother's pure azure eyes stared out from her straight-cut bangs, and a prominent nose sprayed with freckles suggested a frank personality. Her full lips and strong chin are often overshadowed by her plain looks, and the ridiculously ruffled dresses her mother forces her to wear all the time are the penance of her life. Although these differences cause Rachel fade out in a crowd, after some time in her company, you could tell she makes a great companion and a loyal friend.
Sadly, Rachel's sunny dispositions are often over-looked by her two companions; Clarisse and Jeannette, who are also daughters of the leaders of important political parties. They are the only young ladies her parents had ever allowed her to socialize with.
FLASHBACK
"Perhaps, over time, your affection for them will be subtly introduced to their parents, and we might pass this bill after all!" her father often said.
"They are nice, respectable young ladies, each of our class, so it would benefit you to socialize with the likes of them" was her mother's excuse.
END FLASHBACK
Assumption has led to the idea that this was exactly the type of conversation that had passed between Clarisse's and Jeannette's parents. This had to be the only reason the girls had ever put up with Rachel. Pretty, popular and snobbish, they, and their companions often overshadowed Rachel in any parties or functions they had been forced to attend together.
Drawing herself back into reality, Rachel quickly glances out into the gloomy depths of night. Some time ago, it began to rain. It had come up to the point where Rachel could not see past the next lamp-post. Lars had tensed up and his driving had become jerky as he rounded the corners, trying to inconspicuously drive as fast as the speed limit would allow. Suddenly, a loud bang echoed throughout the trees, coming from behind them.
"Get down. We are under attack, so I need to be ensured of you safety. And don't come up until we reach some cover," Lars growled out before he pushed Rachel down to the floor of the car, her seatbelt removed in a practiced gestured. Rachel squeaked. Why were they under attack??
"What's happening?" Rachel tried to scream over the sounds of screeching cars along the road, swerving around corners. Apparently, Lars hadn't heard her, or chose not to answer. All of his concentration was placed into ensuring both of them that Rachel reached some sort of shelter, a safe haven; it was quickly becoming apparent that they would never make it to the dinner party. Rachel, the bright student she was, realized this fact a while after Lars had.
"If we can't each the party, where exactly are we going Lars?" The question was out of her mouth before she realized that Lars could not answer, as he would need all of his awareness to be able to ensure that she was safe. Adrenaline began to pump through her veins, a burning sensation that clutched at her heart and fed the flame that kept Rachel slogging through these dreary days of her pitiful life.
'My life is already in ruins. I am being led through life by parents who couldn't care less about me, even if they tried. I have no friends; my only companions are Lars and Anna, and there's a good chance that one of them could die tonight. I wish I could rebel against my parents, against my so-called-friends, against the world. I want to break out!' she thought, hands clenched, her form curled up, allowing her as much room as possible. The car swerved around a fast corner, and nearly skidded off the road. Lars soon gained control and continued to speed along the country road.
'I tried to rebel quietly; but releasing my soul into my music isn't enough!' Rachel thought angrily, wishing, for once in life, that she was in control.
"Lars, are we being pursued on ground, or by air?" Rachel heard herself choke out. She couldn't handle the pressure of the thought that she might die; she just had to know!
"Vehicle," Lars ground out before he swerved to avoid a head-long collision with another car. Or so it seemed to Rachel, who could just glimpse parts of the outside world, if she rested her head against the passenger seat. She then realized that Lars was driving on the wrong side of the road.
'Why ever is Lars driving on the wrong side of the road?' Rachel wondered, before she realized from all the noise someone was kicking up from the direction they had come from that her pursuers were also driving on the wrong side of the road, in a feeble attempt to get into a better position. A position to do what, Rachel did not want to ponder over. Whenever her pursuers switched to the opposite side of the road, Lars made sure he switched sides first. This continued on for several minutes until they appeared to be nearing a structure that loosely resembled an abandoned warehouse. Seeing as this was the only building for miles, near a road where cars passed every ten minutes, Lars made the quick decision to stop at the warehouse, and bustle Rachel into a safe corner, as it was easier to defend Rachel this way than being pursued on the open road.
As Lars swerved the vehicle onto a rutted dirt road leading up to the ware-house, Rachel squeaked in surprise, before moaning in pain. The rutted road had jostled Rachel badly, her head striking the area underneath the dashboard, rendering her unconscious. Lars had made the fatal mistake of glancing towards Rachel, to verify her health status. In between checking Rachel for her vitals, Lars' arm shifted, swerving the car into the path of a huge willow tree. The noise caused by the impact of a head-on collision with the tree, going 120 mph, reached their pursuers. They sent one man to do the job of checking for vitals. The man, a sloppy assassin, decided to check Lars.
'For surely,' he thought, 'if the huge bulky man could not survive the impact, then the little girl would have surely been crushed.' Upon reaching Lars, the assassin discovered that while Lars was unconscious and breathing, his breathing was labored, and the colossal man was slowly dying. To put him out of his misery, the assassin selected and wrenched a sharp, metal bit protruding from beneath the driving wheel. By efficiently jamming the bit of metal through Lars' throat, he succeeded in killing the loyal bodyguard. Returning to his companions, he reported both of them dead. They drove away, greedily anticipating the reward they would receive. If they had sent an assassin who was not lazy in his or her work, they would have discovered that although Rachel was unconscious, she was not dead. She was, however, slipping into a coma, so deep, that doctors, for five years, failed all attempts to bring Rachel back into this world. If they had bothered to clean-up after themselves after crudely murdering Lars, then the old farmer who lived in the area would not have immediately dialed 911 upon reaching the crime scene. At precisely 11:59 sharp, it was confirmed that Rachel Reeves, daughter of the most important political leader at the time, was in a deep coma, while her faithful bodyguard lay dead from an impact that bent the ancient massive willow tree until it touched the ground.
A/N: Noooo! Don't give up on me yet! I promise that this isn't the kind of story where some person falls out of the sky, miraculously dodging all trees and rocks, falls into Tortall, ends up having more power than Alanna, Daine, Kel and Aly, and eventually saves the whole of Tortall! This fic actually has a plot!
Please, take pity on me, it's my first fic. I know it sucks, don't waste time telling me that, tell me how I can fix it)
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