Confessions of A Girl Everyone Hates
Author: Faith Lee
Rating: PG
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings
Summary: Well, this is just typical. Regular Girl, boinks herself on the head a couple times, then BANG, she's in Middle Earth with our favorite orcs. Just in time, our favorite princeling comes in and kills them all and saves the girl. After they get talking, they both loathe each other more than they can say. So now, Regular Girl is stuck in Middle Earth and everyone hates her. Life is perfect.
Disclaimer: Regular Girl is mine, yes she does have a name, I just haven't figured out what it is going to be yet. The rest, the location, characters and what not, those all belong to the Tolkien Estate, so take it up with them. The plotline obviously doesn't belong to me because it is the basic plot of most Lord of the Rings FanFictions ever. All right, the authoress is going to shut up now! Yay.
Chapter One
Yes, I really do love to bang myself on the head a couple million times
Also, Introductions and blacking out after, heh, bonking myself on the head.
Hello everyone, my name is Helen. I am twenty years old; I have chestnut brown hair that gets really greasy if I don't wash it for a couple days, I have dark brown eyes that are really big and a straight nose. Which is really good and I think I'm lucky because a lot of my friends have crooked noses. I was born on February seventh and I'm an Aquarius.
I'm a big history buff, ever since I found out my name, Helen, was the name of the most beautiful woman in the world, at one point. I really wish I had inherited something from her namesake though, because I am definitely not the most beautiful woman in the world. Not even close. Anyway, Helen was the cause of the Trojan War, which lasted ten years. Though I thought it was kind of stupid to draw it out for that long. Had they only listened to Cassandra, it never would have happened. Cassandra is one smart, cursed girl. Kind of sucks to be her. I guess I should be feeling lucky about now, hmm?
Enough introductions, they make me sick.
Well, not exactly sick, just, annoyed, and stuff, because I hate doing them. Yeah.
Oh, I have to get home because I have to pack! I'm going over my Mom's house for the weekend, and she lives in Barbados. Why didn't she take me after the divorce? I didn't want to go. Friends, schools, crap like that that I didn't want to leave behind. And then there was the whole, I didn't want to find my identity just then so I could explain who I was to everyone there. So I live with my dad. Ever since the divorce, it's been work, work, work, work, work, work, work, golf, work, work, and more, work. At first I was pissed, now I just refuse to care. He'll die at that stupid office, I swear. They all do. Heart attacks, strokes, nervous breakdown, constipation, I've heard it all. I warn Dad about it sometimes, but he just gawks at me and walks away. Sure, and when you die, I'll go to your wake, look into your coffin and say, 'I told you so.' That's a promise.
I was home. I opened the door and walked into the foyer and closed the door behind me. I took of my shoes and dropped my coat on the floor, then walked into the kitchen.
"I'm home!" My voice echoed through the empty house. How stupid am I, to think that he'd be home. Poppycock. I placed my keys on the table and dashed upstairs to my room and started to pack.
"Hmm, let's see, I need a bathing suit, mm, mm, nope! Not that one, no, gosh, when did I get all these bikinis? I never wear bikinis. I just want a regular one piece! Ya know, Speedo? AN: I don't own Speedo. No, no, crap…" did I mention that I think aloud when I'm alone? Yeah, well, I do. I turned away from my dresser and walked smack into the wall.
"Okay, ow. That was smart, Hel. Real smart. You've been in this room since you were, what, born? Now you're running into walls. That can't be good. I'm going insane. That must be it. Soon, I'll be sitting at my desk all day and getting constipated. Oh boy." I rubbed my forehead with my hand and wandered into my closet. I got out random clothes and threw them in the general direction of the duffel bag on my bed. After I got enough clothes out, I turned and banged into the wall again. I fell back into the closet and fell on my butt.
"This can't be good."
One hour and about a hundred bruises later… I was packed and ready to go. I was nursing my forehead with ice and I was starting to go numb. I got up and made my way to the stairs. After getting down most of them, I managed to trip and fall down the remaining four or five stairs and land on my stomach. And then I banged my forehead again.
I got up gingerly, giving a soft curse. I tried to never curse. My father always did it, and so did my mom. I hate cursing. And here I was, a huge bruise on my forehead and excrement coming out of my mouth. Life is good. Now alls I needed was a midget with a whip and a pointy tail going, 'Heeyah!' That would make my day!
I didn't have to wait long. The door slammed shut and I heard the scuffling of feet, which was obviously my father. I mean, come on. Who else could it be, Santa?
"Hi, Dad," I called, and I heard a grunt as a response. Shaking my head, I responded to myself.
"Hi, Helen, how was your day? Just great, thank you very much father, for caring you know." I groaned and rested my head on the table.
"Did you pack?" my father called from the other room, his 'study'. More like, 'his life'.
"Yes," I shouted.
"You don't have to scream," I heard Dad say, and I realized he was very close; then I felt a thud on my head and his huge hand patted it and then I was gone. One too many hits on this poor noggin today. Everything just went black.
A Friendly Note From The Authoress: Well, Enter Helen, Girl With Many Flaws. She's kind of random, like someone ELSE I know. Looks at self. Do, do, do, do….
This Friendly Authoress hopes you enjoyed Helen the 'Regular Girl'. If she looks like a MS, OH MY JIMINY CRICKETS PLEASE TELL ME. Any advice or help would be greatly appreciated.
Love, Faith.
A Note From Helen: Points at Authoress. She's making me do it.