A/n: Hello, everyone. This is a rewrite of a (very) old story of mine I recently rediscovered and wanted to continue. Unfortunately, the account the original story is posted on is so old that I can't remember my login info, so I had to make a new account. So here I am, rewriting a story which is about 12 or 13 years old. I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter 01: Careful What You Wish for
"No, Mom. You have to turn it up more. Otherwise, I can't see your face."
Michaela leaned her chin on her hand, waiting while her parents struggled with the webcam. It was really kind of sad how technologically inept they were in this day and age. They'd only just gotten around to buying a webcam for their ancient computer so they could Zoom with their daughter on the larger computer screen instead of relying on smartphones, and they'd finally managed to get the thing setup. Now the next hurdle was getting the camera pointed in the right direction so she could actually see them.
"She said move it up, Joan. Like this," her dad's voice came over the speaker, and a large hand appeared on the screen, which jounced wildly, threatening to give Michaela a case of vertigo, before finally settling in on a nice, clear view of the family room's white stucco ceiling. "How 'bout now?" her dad asked, sounding pleased with himself.
Michaela suppressed a snort and the urge to drop her head on the desk. "That's the ceiling."
"You see? I told you to let me handle it," Michaela's mom chided. The screen moved once again, finally settling on to her parents' faces.
"There! Right there!" Michaela exclaimed before her mom could over correct the angle.
"Oh good, did we finally get it?" her mom breathed.
Michaela grinned and waved. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad." They waved back, both beaming at her.
"How's the studying going? Have you pulled an all-nighter yet?" her dad asked, earning himself a smack in the arm from her mom.
"Don't put ideas in her head. She needs her rest," her mom hissed. Michaela watched them banter back and forth for a minute, smiling and feeling a familiar twinge of homesickness. Soon finals would be done and she would be back home for her first visit since she started college back in August.
"Don't listen to your father and make sure you get your sleep as well as studying," her mom said, turning her attention back to Michaela.
"Don't worry, Mom. I've got it covered," Michaela said with a laugh. At that moment, she saw a thin figure in a black hoodie pass by in the background, probably on his way back from the kitchen judging by the unopened bag of potato chips in his hand.
Apparently her parents saw him too, because her dad turned and called out, "Josiah, come say hello to your sister!"
Josiah paused, looking over his shoulder and pulling out one earbud so he could hear better. "Why? I just talked to her last week."
"Josiah," their dad said threateningly.
Josiah rolled his eyes and, with a groan, slouched over to the computer, bending down so Michaela could see his slightly pimple-stricken face. "Hey, Mikey."
Michaela glared at him. "Hey, Josie," she retorted, dredging up the nickname she'd used to tease him when they were kids.
Josiah grimaced. "Touche. Sorry, Michaela," he corrected himself. Michaela sagely nodded her approval, winning an eye roll in response. "When you coming home?"
"Next Wednesday. My last final is Tuesday."
Josiah gave her an impish grin. "Get ready to sleep in the tiny room cause I just got moved into your room and you're not getting it back."
Michaela rested her chin on her hand. "Like I'd want it back now that it's been contaminated."
Josiah stuck out his tongue and she returned the favor. Then he grabbed his earbud, preparing to return it to its proper place inside his ear, and, lifting the hand clutching the bag of chips said, "See ya later, sis. Try not to fail."
"Josiah!" their dad shouted, but the teenager had already replaced his earbud and was halfway out the room. Shaking his head, her dad turned back to Michaela. "Don't worry, honey. We know how hard you've been working."
"No worries, I'm fine," Michaela said. It was a lie. Her brother might have meant it in good fun, but the words had hit a sore spot. And she couldn't help noticing the frown which now darkened her mom's face.
"Michaela," her mom began, and Michaela shifted in her seat, her eyes dropping to her hands as her fingers picked at some imaginary dirt beneath her nails, "we can expect good grades this semester, right?"
Michaela didn't look up. "I already told you I have all A's."
"Good. Because you know how important it is that you get good grades now that you're in college. This is your future we're talking about."
"Yeah, Mom, I know." Having picked away all the imaginary dirt, Michaela reached for her soda and took a swig. Too late, she realized her mistake. Glancing up, she saw her mom's frown had changed into a deep scowl.
"Michaela," her mom's voice was hard. "Are you drinking next to your laptop?"
Michaela quickly moved the soda behind her laptop and out of sight. "Sorry, I forgot. It's empty now," she lied.
Now it was her dad's turn to join in. "Michaela, you know we can't afford another laptop if that one breaks."
"I know, I'm sorry. I'll be more careful."
Her mom didn't look at all satisfied. "Michaela, when are you going to start being more responsible?"
"I said I'll be careful," Michaela snapped. She was starting to get irritated now. Her mom didn't know when to let things go.
"Saying it isn't enough. You need to-"
"Look, I better go. Lots of studying to do," Michaela cut in before her mom could embark on another lecture.
"Michaela!" her mom snapped.
"Bye!" Michaela said, hitting the leave call button. Her parents' faces blinked away and she leaned back in her chair, heaving a sigh of relief. She'd probably get an earful later, but she was too tired for a lecture right now. After spending an entire day finishing her essay for World History, she was pretty sure she deserved a break.
Her phone was ringing seconds later. Groaning, Michaela switched it to silent, tossing it onto the bunk bed she shared with her roommate, Alison. Why did her parents have to be so annoying? She closed her laptop and stood up to stretch, accidentally bumping into the desk as she did so.
Time seemed to move slowly, like it did in those dramatic scenes in TV shows. Michaela's hip bumped the desk. The definitely not empty soda can tottered. Michaela froze, watching with wide-eyed horror as the scene unfolded before her, unable to move or do anything to stop it. The can toppled over and pale, fizzing liquid poured over the desk. And her laptop.
The paralysis finally lifted and Michaela shouted, grabbing her laptop out of the puddle. Rushing to her bed, she grabbed a blanket, using it to wipe off the soda. Sitting on the mattress, she opened the laptop and, holding her breath, pushed the on button. The orange light on the button flickered to green and the black screen lit up.
"Please," Michaela muttered to herself, staring at the screen. "Please, please, please." The screen flickered like it was about to turn on and her heart skipped a beat. Then the laptop unleashed an awful blaring sound and blinked out.
Michaela's limbs felt cold. She pressed the on button. Nothing happened. She pressed it again, holding it for a few seconds in case that made a difference. Nothing.
"Oh no," she moaned. "Oh no, no, no, no, no. This cannot be happening." She pressed her palms against her temples, staring at the unresponsive screen. If she'd thought she was in for it before, her parents were definitely going to kill her now.
She put the laptop down, her mind racing to come up with a plausible lie of how her laptop could have broken without it being her fault. And then, the awful realization hit her. Her history essay - the one she'd spent the entire day finishing - was gone. It had been saved on her laptop and she hadn't bothered to back it up, thinking she would email it to her professor this evening and not have to worry about it anymore.
"Oh god. I am so dead."
The fact that she had all A's wasn't entirely true. Although she'd excelled in all her other classes, for whatever reason, history had been a struggle for her. She currently maintained a B minus, quivering on the menacing brink of a C. Fortunately, essays were her strong point, and the final essay was worth a large enough portion of the final grade that she was hoping it would pull her to an A minus, or at the very least, a B plus. Unfortunately, the essay which her entire grade was riding on, the essay which was due by 10 pm tonight, was on her laptop. Her now broken laptop.
"I am officially the world's biggest idiot."
Michaela grabbed her phone, checking the time and swiping to ignore the '3 missed calls from Mom' notification. It was just after 7:30. Professor Harris was keeping his office hours until eight during finals, in case any students needed last minute help. If she hurried, she could see him in his office and beg for an extension. She only hoped he would understand her plight and have pity on her. Professor Harris was infamous for being a stickler on due dates. As far as she knew, he had never given an extension. In his mind, his students either took the class seriously, or they didn't.
But surely even Professor Harris knew that sometimes shit happened, right?
She could only hope.
Grabbing her key, she dashed out of her room, locking the door behind her, and down the three staircases to the door leading out of the freshman dormitory. Once outside, the chilly early December air hit her face, cooling her frayed nerves just a little. She'd forgotten to bring her jacket and she shivered, but the cold felt refreshing. She walked as fast as she could across the campus, making her way to the building where Professor Harris's office was located.
The building was on the other end of campus and it was a good ten minute walk, but she managed to make it with fifteen minutes to spare. The door to his office was open and Professor Harris was seated at his desk, typing away at his computer. She knocked on the open door to get his attention and he looked up.
"Miss Windham, what can I do for you?"
Michaela stepped in, taking a seat in one of the chairs placed before the desk. Her fingers moved instinctively to her nails as she struggled to find the right words. "I have a favor to ask."
"Ask away."
He waited patiently while she fumbled for the right words. Finally, after several seconds of silence had passed, she decided it was best to just tell him outright. Eyes fixed on her hands, she told him her tale.
"I see," Professor Harris said when she had finished. "And you didn't think to back up your work?"
Michaela shook her head. "I didn't think I needed to since I was going to email it tonight anyway."
"Why didn't you email it as soon as you finished?''
"My parents just bought a webcam and they wanted to Zuum. I was planning to email it after." Even to her ears, her explanations sounded like pitiful excuses for irresponsible behavior. Wouldn't her mother be proud?
"Well, Miss Windham, I'm sorry to say it, but you know I'm not in the habit of giving extensions. You've had plenty of time to complete this essay, and you should have had the foresight to back it up. Experience is a hard teacher, but it's also the best. You'll probably receive a failing grade for the course, but you will be able to retake it."
The weight in Michaela's stomach seemed to pull her entire body down, making it impossible to sit straight. Her head drooped and she nodded. "I understand." Pushing out of the chair, she prepared to leave.
"But."
In that single word lay all the hope of the universe. Michaela froze and turned her head, barely daring to breathe.
Professor Harris sighed and continued. "You've proven yourself to be a good student this semester. Your grades may not have been the best, but your attendance has been perfect and you've consistently made the effort to ask for assistance and try to improve yourself." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe I' saying this, but in light of your previous performance and the fact that this essay is worth such a significant portion of your final grade, I'm willing to let you turn the essay in by 9 tomorrow morning."
Michaela's blue eyes gleamed. "Professor Harris! Thank you so much!"
He held up a finger. "Not so fast. I'm still going to take thirty percent off as a penalty for being late." Michaela's face fell. Thirty percent? That meant unless she scored a perfect grade, she was guaranteed to get an F on her essay. "You'll receive poor marks on your essay, but you should at least be able to pass the course. Just make sure you do better next semester. And back up your work!"
Michaela nodded, biting back the urge to break down into tears. She would still be able to pass this semester. That was a good thing, she told herself as she made her way through the hallway and back into the night. Even if it did mean a lousy final grade and having to explain to her parents why this one class hadn't been up to par.
Shoulders dropping, she walked over to the fountain set outside the building and sank onto its ledge. Just once, she'd thought she'd be able to prove her worth to her parents. She'd always gotten bad grades, to the point that her parents had even held her back a grade in hopes that it would help. It hadn't done anything except humiliate her. Her grades had still been bad, even through high school. She'd barely managed to scrape a good enough GPA to be accepted at even this mediocre university.
But everything had seemed to changed once she got to college. Maybe it was because the classes were more interesting, or maybe it was because without her parents and their expectations constantly breathing down her neck, she'd finally felt capable of applying herself. Whatever the case, except for history, she'd managed to get excellent grades in all her classes. Even history hadn't been so bad, all things considered. She'd been looking forward to showing her parents her shining grades without the tarnish of a single F or D, or even a C. Not anymore. That dream had shattered, and all because of one stupid mistake.
At least she wouldn't fail. Although she'd have to stay up all night attempting to rewrite the six-page essay. She gave a sudden bark of sardonic laughter. "Let's see how many times I can disappoint my mother in one night," she muttered under her breath.
Fetching her phone from her pocket, she pulled up the number of her longtime best friend, Desiree, and hit call. The phone rang a few times before Desiree's spunky voicemail message sounded in Michaela's ear. With a sigh, she hung up and returned her phone to her pocket. Looking up, she stared into the night sky. A few stars were visible. She watched them twinkle merrily down at her from their blissful heights. Suddenly, a streak of light shot across the dark expanse.
Michaela blinked in surprise. A shooting star? Closing her eyes, she said aloud, "I wish I could just disappear from here." She kept her eyes squeezed shut, hoping that by some strange chance her wish might actually be granted. When she opened them again, she was still seated at the edge of the fountain, the college campus stretching out around her.
Rolling her eyes at herself, Michaela stood. She'd have to go to the computer lab to start rewriting her essay. With a groan, she realized she didn't have her student ID, which meant walking all the way back to the dorm to get it.
"God, could I be a bigger moron?" she grumbled to herself. She had just taken the first step when it happened.
Light hit her like a shockwave, nearly knocking her off her feet. Rays blazed through the air, and Michaela lifted her hands to her eyes to shield them from their brilliance. When the brilliance faded, she lowered her hands, dazed and blinking. She stared, unable to make sense of what had happened. The campus, with its trees and buildings and the scattering of students out after dark, had disappeared. So, too, had the dark, moonlit sky. She now stood in whiteness - a warm, shimmering whiteness which surrounded her, as if she had been embraced by the light of a star.
"I am impressed with your perception, Michaela."
Michaela jumped, whirling around to find herself face to face with an unfamiliar man. He was tall, his form draped in long robes of pale green and white, and sleek white hair hung down his back to the ground where it pooled gracefully about his feet. Most unsettling were his eyes. They stared at Michaela, their color like white-gold with a piercing gaze, as if with a single glance, they would allow their owner to see and know everything about her.
Michaela stepped back. "Who are you?"
When he spoke, his voice was tranquil, almost lulling. "My name is Ebearaa, Granter of Wishes. I have come to grant your wish."
Michaela could only blink at him. "My wish? What are you…" She stopped, her mind suddenly recollecting the shooting star, the wish she had spoken. She shook her head. No. No way. That was too impossible. Pushing the thought away, she demanded instead, "What's going on? Where am I?"
"Your first instinct was correct," Ebearaa said. He lifted a hand, indicating the radiance surrounding them. "This is a star. And I have come to grant your wish."
Michaela shook her head again. "No, that's impossible." She closed her eyes, trying to think back on what had happened. She'd made a wish on a star. After that, she was preparing to get her ID from her dorm so she could go to the computer labs when...she wasn't sure what, exactly. Something had struck her, and then she'd been surrounded by a blinding light. "Maybe I fell," she murmured to herself. With the way this day had been going, she wouldn't put it past herself to trip and hit her head. That would explain a lot. She was dreaming or maybe hallucinating.
"This is no dream or vision, Michaela," Ebearaa's voice broke into her thoughts. "I have looked into the weaves of fate and decided to grant your wish." He held up his hand, placing his palm on her forehead. Her instinct was to move away, yet her entire body seemed suddenly paralyzed. "I will send you to a world far away from your own. My only request is that, in return, you fulfill the mission I will give to you."
"Say what?" Michaela said, relieved to find that her voice at least still worked. Unfortunately, none of what this man was saying made sense. "Far away? Far away where? What mission?"
"All will be made clear in time." As he spoke, a haze began to cover Michaela's vision and she felt herself begin to sway. "Sleep now."
"But I…" The words came sluggishly, as if she had to force them through a pool of thick gelatin. She fought to keep her eyelids open. "I don't...want…" The haze deepened into darkness and her consciousness slipped away.
