LullabyOliver

4/11/06-4/26/06

My FanFic

»Prologue «

A young girl stood in her hallway facing a mirror that could fit her whole body height in its frame. She was fourteen, had blue eyes, and was wearing only the slightest bit of eye makeup. One could only guess that the girl was trying to make herself look and feel more attractive, for she obviously did not find her image to be much appealing. At least, not her facial features; she did admire her figure. It was slender, thanks to her metabolism, and she was aware of the fact that it was much sought after by a few other girls from school. Though she dreaded feeble wrists and bony knees, it relieved her to have a torso that was so coveted.

The warm April sun shone through the windows of the girl's younger sisters' bedroom and glistened in her strawberry hair. She got the reddish color and wavy texture from her mom, as she had been told time and time again. Another thing the girl inherited was the family's sensitive stomach, causing her to miss school quite often. But today was not a school day; it was Sunday, and there was nobody home except for three family pets and the girl herself. She was frequently left alone when her younger sister went to Ballet class, though now she was used to it and actually looked forward to it. This, however, had been the first time that she decided to put on any makeup or try on clothes, and it was not turning out to be a success.

"Forget it," the girl muttered to herself, "I'm not pretty at all, I'm just--"

She was interrupted by a sudden knock at her front door. It frightened her for a second, considering that she had not been expecting any packages—or people—to be showing up at her house on that particular afternoon. Surely her mother would've told her if anyone were to be stopping by, and the girl would undoubtedly be aware of any and all parcels being delivered. She hesitated on whether or not to answer it. But no sooner were her thoughts interrupted again by a second knock then did she have time to come up with an answer.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," the girl said, half to herself, as she hurried down the stairs. Putting one hand on the banister pole, she then rounded the corner to a second hallway that ended at her front door, all the while hushing a loud series of barks which came from the little whippet-terrier mix that was Tisdale. The girl put one hand on the first door handle, being careful to look as good as possible to the stranger on the other side. But, as she was about to discover, it was no "stranger" who stood not three feet from her own body. In fact, it was about as far from that very word as possible.

"Can I help you with--" the girl stopped, mid-sentence, as her jaw dropped in disbelief of the visitor. She struggled to speak, but all she could do was stare and try to catch her breath.

The boy standing before her was about fifteen, and was dressed in dark clothes lined with a white stripe. He also wore a red, cloak-like jacket and white gloves. His bangs hung down in his face sharing color with his golden eyes. The rest of his hair was shoulder-length and pulled back into a braid, except for a single strand that stuck up like an antenna from the peak of his hairline. Black, platform boots with a red underside seemed to bear the sole purpose of making him look taller, for he was only about as tall as the girl herself. With him was a seven-foot suit of armor that carried a run down traveling trunk. Together, they looked quite out of place in such a mediocre neighborhood.

"Wh-who...no, what..." the girl stuttered, still struggling to clearly identify the two. She took a deep breath and attempted to clarify their identities. "Are you...?" Again, she broke off in disbelief. The boy laughed to himself and began to talk, saving her the trouble.

"Nice to meet you," he started, "My name's Edward Elric."