I must let you all know, that this chapter, and from now until the end of
this chapter, I am working on this fic with a second writer. She is also
one of the characters now introduced in this chapter. So read on, and be
amazed!
Chapter 17
I awoke on one particularly rainy morning, the drops of water hitting my window like small pellets. I stretched and took my time, as it was Saturday, and muttered under my breath as I stood up and walked lazily to the mirror about missing out on playing tennis with my friends that day. Maybe I'd call them later to go see a movie or something, I thought to myself as I inwardly grinned and groaned at the same time as I looked at my sorry sight in the mirror. People didn't call me a light sleeper, and I never slept still. My hair was an absolute mess, my eyes had old makeup under them, and I had the imprint of my hand on my cheek in red, as I had fallen asleep on my hand. I picked out a simple white collared shirt and some jeans and skipped breakfast, heading into the bathroom. Showering quickly, I stepped out, toweling my hair off and slipping on my clothes. I washed my face soundly, putting on some light makeup and a hint of lip- gloss before tying my now dry hair back into a high ponytail. Picking up my pajamas and throwing them into my messy bedroom, I raced down the stairs as usual, flipping on the computer and listening to the whirring noises it made as it loaded up. I had heard things before, but they were just all rumors. I hadn't seen Wyatt online for several months, and I had heard that he simply had his computer crash and they didn't have a new one yet. Or so I thought. As I glanced at the screen, a shock ran through my spine. Was it just me, or was he online? But as I tried to speak to him, he went offline, but a box popped up saying that I had a new e-mail. Clicking on it, a rush of curiosity sweeping through my system, the e-mail came up. I read it over carefully.
Liz- This must be hard for you, but we have declared Wyatt dead. He disappeared not too long ago, and hasn't shown up since. We'd like you to fly up for the funeral please.
Following it was several pieces of information. Wyatt's mom had already purchased the tickets, and I realized my good luck as I figured out that my parents would be on a business trip the dates they requested for me to fly up. Still, my heart had a weird feeling to it, as though something was missing. I packed my things ahead of time, anxiety filling me, as I waited for my departure.
I had never been on a plane by myself, especially without my parent's knowing about it; but I boarded the plane nonetheless, and sat down in my seat, pulling a book out of my duffle bag and reading it to myself. It was a Redwall book, one of the newest of the series, and I instantly became absorbed in it. The flight lasted a few hours, but before I knew it, the flight attendant came over the loudspeaker announcing that we'd be landing. I called on a cab; surprised that he even answered me. It truly had been a few years since I had spoken with Wyatt, I was now 15. But for all I knew I could have looked older to the cab driver. Arriving at the house had sweat making my hands glisten. I knocked on the door, and a woman, who I assumed was Wyatt's mother, answered the door, her face with a grim smile on it. "Welcome. Won't you come in? You can make yourself comfortable, and I can tell you the story."
I stepped inside, seating myself on a couch with her across from me. She spoke rather hurriedly. "Wyatt's mentioned a few things to me about you. I went through his computer records and found that you knew each other pretty well, which is the reason why I contacted you. I'm sorry it took me so long, it's been almost two years since his disappearance."
Her voice trailed off, but from the look on my face, she continued. "I really have no idea what happened. I left for work one day and came back and he was gone. He had taken some things with him, and when we sent out the search crew, they came up with nothing, not even the slightest clue where he had gone."
I spoke softly. "I'm so sorry."
Wyatt's mom only shook her head, gesturing me around the house, eventually leading me to the backyard. I was quite impressed by the Maine landscape. I had never visited there before despite all my travels, and it was interesting to see. What caught my attention though, were the woods. It seemed like there was something interesting to be found there, and I was anxious to go find out; but I'd have to wait.
After finishing the tour, Wyatt's mom went back inside, starting to prepare dinner for before the funeral. She told me I could explore a bit outside. Taking my duffle bag with me incase I'd get into trouble, I headed off through the woods, walking down a path that I made, marking notches in the trees with my pocket knife. I reached a small patch of trees however, that seemed to look quite strange to me. I debated whether I should check it out, but in the end, my curiosity won me over and I decided to step inside. There were the usual noises of the woods, of course, but when I entered I found another sort of noise entering the mix, loud, like it was being spoken by humans. I heard some rustling in the bushes behind me, and I whirled around, narrowing missing a large club that was swung at my head. I was alert now. I drew my pocketknife, calling out. "Who are you? What do you want?"
Suddenly several shadows enclosed on me, and before I could fight them off, they knocked me out swiftly, stars exploding in my head as I slumped to the ground.
I woke up in the same trees I had been in before, and for a fleeting moment I thought that I had been left alone. But as I lifted my head and gazed around, I was sure that I wasn't in Maine anymore. The grass was covered in crisp damp leaves, and sunlight shone through the treetops. My duffle bag lay beside me, and I was surprised that everything was still in there. I checked my watch, tapping it a few times, but realizing that it had stopped exactly at the time I had been in the woods. Strange, I thought to myself. I got up, brushing myself off and looking around a bit more. The noises in these woods seemed to be very loud, wild and free, as if no humans had touched this place before. For a moment my breath was taken away at the beauty of it all. I walked around the woods a bit more, finding some smoke rising up against the blue sky up ahead. A bit intrigued, I followed to its location. What I found looked exactly like a dream. I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Ouch, I wasn't. It was a quaint log cabin, with a garden off to the side, a log pile and a few fruit trees and bushes. I knocked on the door, happy that I was in a place where things were life- size, as there was an eerie feeling to the air. The door opened and I almost fainted at what I saw. It was a female ottermaid, standing full height before me, wearing an apron, her whiskers twitching. Her eyes were like orbs as soon as she set eyes on me. We both screamed at the same time, and she slammed the door on me. For a moment there I was in shock. What was that thing? A burly male otter stormed out of the house, a large stick in his paws. He growled at me, lashing out with his stick. I backed away as fast as I could, falling to my back, and then crawling away backwards, fear in my eyes. "What are ye and what are ye doing here!" The otter barked.
I understood none of it. It was a bunch of blabber for me, and I closed my eyes tight, ready for the blow that would end my life. The blow never came. I opened my eyes slowly, one at a time, to see what had happened. He had lowered the club, and he was looking me over. Obviously he had never seen something like me before. He prodded me with the stick, and I flinched, scared for my life. He was much bigger than me, and his muscles made clear the fact that when he was angry he could tear apart a beast alive. He stuck out a paw, which confused me. I took it timidly, and he rose his large eyebrows at what he thought would be a paw. He helped me up, picking up my duffle bag, choosing not to open it in fear of what would be inside, and led me through the door. I was surprised that he was being so kind, I had figured I'd be slain on the spot. The cottage was a small one, with a fireplace, a table and a few chairs, and a large pallet for sleeping. The ottermaid came up, looking me over also. Their inquisitiveness was obviously as great as mine was. They tried speaking to me again, but I could not understand them, and when I spoke some simple words to them, they couldn't understand me either. So, making hand signals and gestures, we tried to communicate as best we could. It wasn't too difficult. We used props and other sorts of things when we could not use just our hands, or in their case, their paws. I guess they also were wondering where my tail was, because the male patted my backside, making me squeal and blush; he didn't try anything after that. We eventually made up a sort of language for ourselves, knowing what hand signals meant what. The end came to a close, and as I lay outside under the stars on the soft earth, the only thing that was in my mind was the question on where I was. I wondered how I had gotten here, and what life would be like. At least there wouldn't be school, but that was in the back of my mind at the moment. It seemed like I'd have a communication problem, and everyone would think of me as a monster. I sighed, closing my eyes and falling into a light sleep.
Chapter 17
I awoke on one particularly rainy morning, the drops of water hitting my window like small pellets. I stretched and took my time, as it was Saturday, and muttered under my breath as I stood up and walked lazily to the mirror about missing out on playing tennis with my friends that day. Maybe I'd call them later to go see a movie or something, I thought to myself as I inwardly grinned and groaned at the same time as I looked at my sorry sight in the mirror. People didn't call me a light sleeper, and I never slept still. My hair was an absolute mess, my eyes had old makeup under them, and I had the imprint of my hand on my cheek in red, as I had fallen asleep on my hand. I picked out a simple white collared shirt and some jeans and skipped breakfast, heading into the bathroom. Showering quickly, I stepped out, toweling my hair off and slipping on my clothes. I washed my face soundly, putting on some light makeup and a hint of lip- gloss before tying my now dry hair back into a high ponytail. Picking up my pajamas and throwing them into my messy bedroom, I raced down the stairs as usual, flipping on the computer and listening to the whirring noises it made as it loaded up. I had heard things before, but they were just all rumors. I hadn't seen Wyatt online for several months, and I had heard that he simply had his computer crash and they didn't have a new one yet. Or so I thought. As I glanced at the screen, a shock ran through my spine. Was it just me, or was he online? But as I tried to speak to him, he went offline, but a box popped up saying that I had a new e-mail. Clicking on it, a rush of curiosity sweeping through my system, the e-mail came up. I read it over carefully.
Liz- This must be hard for you, but we have declared Wyatt dead. He disappeared not too long ago, and hasn't shown up since. We'd like you to fly up for the funeral please.
Following it was several pieces of information. Wyatt's mom had already purchased the tickets, and I realized my good luck as I figured out that my parents would be on a business trip the dates they requested for me to fly up. Still, my heart had a weird feeling to it, as though something was missing. I packed my things ahead of time, anxiety filling me, as I waited for my departure.
I had never been on a plane by myself, especially without my parent's knowing about it; but I boarded the plane nonetheless, and sat down in my seat, pulling a book out of my duffle bag and reading it to myself. It was a Redwall book, one of the newest of the series, and I instantly became absorbed in it. The flight lasted a few hours, but before I knew it, the flight attendant came over the loudspeaker announcing that we'd be landing. I called on a cab; surprised that he even answered me. It truly had been a few years since I had spoken with Wyatt, I was now 15. But for all I knew I could have looked older to the cab driver. Arriving at the house had sweat making my hands glisten. I knocked on the door, and a woman, who I assumed was Wyatt's mother, answered the door, her face with a grim smile on it. "Welcome. Won't you come in? You can make yourself comfortable, and I can tell you the story."
I stepped inside, seating myself on a couch with her across from me. She spoke rather hurriedly. "Wyatt's mentioned a few things to me about you. I went through his computer records and found that you knew each other pretty well, which is the reason why I contacted you. I'm sorry it took me so long, it's been almost two years since his disappearance."
Her voice trailed off, but from the look on my face, she continued. "I really have no idea what happened. I left for work one day and came back and he was gone. He had taken some things with him, and when we sent out the search crew, they came up with nothing, not even the slightest clue where he had gone."
I spoke softly. "I'm so sorry."
Wyatt's mom only shook her head, gesturing me around the house, eventually leading me to the backyard. I was quite impressed by the Maine landscape. I had never visited there before despite all my travels, and it was interesting to see. What caught my attention though, were the woods. It seemed like there was something interesting to be found there, and I was anxious to go find out; but I'd have to wait.
After finishing the tour, Wyatt's mom went back inside, starting to prepare dinner for before the funeral. She told me I could explore a bit outside. Taking my duffle bag with me incase I'd get into trouble, I headed off through the woods, walking down a path that I made, marking notches in the trees with my pocket knife. I reached a small patch of trees however, that seemed to look quite strange to me. I debated whether I should check it out, but in the end, my curiosity won me over and I decided to step inside. There were the usual noises of the woods, of course, but when I entered I found another sort of noise entering the mix, loud, like it was being spoken by humans. I heard some rustling in the bushes behind me, and I whirled around, narrowing missing a large club that was swung at my head. I was alert now. I drew my pocketknife, calling out. "Who are you? What do you want?"
Suddenly several shadows enclosed on me, and before I could fight them off, they knocked me out swiftly, stars exploding in my head as I slumped to the ground.
I woke up in the same trees I had been in before, and for a fleeting moment I thought that I had been left alone. But as I lifted my head and gazed around, I was sure that I wasn't in Maine anymore. The grass was covered in crisp damp leaves, and sunlight shone through the treetops. My duffle bag lay beside me, and I was surprised that everything was still in there. I checked my watch, tapping it a few times, but realizing that it had stopped exactly at the time I had been in the woods. Strange, I thought to myself. I got up, brushing myself off and looking around a bit more. The noises in these woods seemed to be very loud, wild and free, as if no humans had touched this place before. For a moment my breath was taken away at the beauty of it all. I walked around the woods a bit more, finding some smoke rising up against the blue sky up ahead. A bit intrigued, I followed to its location. What I found looked exactly like a dream. I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Ouch, I wasn't. It was a quaint log cabin, with a garden off to the side, a log pile and a few fruit trees and bushes. I knocked on the door, happy that I was in a place where things were life- size, as there was an eerie feeling to the air. The door opened and I almost fainted at what I saw. It was a female ottermaid, standing full height before me, wearing an apron, her whiskers twitching. Her eyes were like orbs as soon as she set eyes on me. We both screamed at the same time, and she slammed the door on me. For a moment there I was in shock. What was that thing? A burly male otter stormed out of the house, a large stick in his paws. He growled at me, lashing out with his stick. I backed away as fast as I could, falling to my back, and then crawling away backwards, fear in my eyes. "What are ye and what are ye doing here!" The otter barked.
I understood none of it. It was a bunch of blabber for me, and I closed my eyes tight, ready for the blow that would end my life. The blow never came. I opened my eyes slowly, one at a time, to see what had happened. He had lowered the club, and he was looking me over. Obviously he had never seen something like me before. He prodded me with the stick, and I flinched, scared for my life. He was much bigger than me, and his muscles made clear the fact that when he was angry he could tear apart a beast alive. He stuck out a paw, which confused me. I took it timidly, and he rose his large eyebrows at what he thought would be a paw. He helped me up, picking up my duffle bag, choosing not to open it in fear of what would be inside, and led me through the door. I was surprised that he was being so kind, I had figured I'd be slain on the spot. The cottage was a small one, with a fireplace, a table and a few chairs, and a large pallet for sleeping. The ottermaid came up, looking me over also. Their inquisitiveness was obviously as great as mine was. They tried speaking to me again, but I could not understand them, and when I spoke some simple words to them, they couldn't understand me either. So, making hand signals and gestures, we tried to communicate as best we could. It wasn't too difficult. We used props and other sorts of things when we could not use just our hands, or in their case, their paws. I guess they also were wondering where my tail was, because the male patted my backside, making me squeal and blush; he didn't try anything after that. We eventually made up a sort of language for ourselves, knowing what hand signals meant what. The end came to a close, and as I lay outside under the stars on the soft earth, the only thing that was in my mind was the question on where I was. I wondered how I had gotten here, and what life would be like. At least there wouldn't be school, but that was in the back of my mind at the moment. It seemed like I'd have a communication problem, and everyone would think of me as a monster. I sighed, closing my eyes and falling into a light sleep.