This chapter will be written from Rachel's point of view.
When I woke up, everything was kinda hazy. I could see, but it was a bunch of blurs. And I was really, really sore. Every part of me ached. I tried to stand up, like I had in my room, and to my surprise I didn't fall. That was good, I was thankful for that. Falling hurts. That's probably why you're sore, I scolded myself.
My eyes came to focus and my jaw dropped. Oh…crap…Call me naïve, but judging by the style of the area around me…it looked familiar…I'm in the Pokemon world! Ha! Hahaha! I laughed at myself, openly in fact.
"Rachel, you moron, you must just be dreaming, that's all!" I consoled myself, rubbing my forehead. "You took a bump to the head and you started dreaming. Nothing strange about that…Gonna hurt tomorrow though…" But wait…Didn't Mom used to always tell me when I was little that a dream can never hurt you? In my younger days, I had had a bad habit of staying up late and watching vampire movies. I still love vampires, but I can't watch the movies. I used to have nightmares that Mom got killed by one and that I had to kill the vampire, but it would always kill me first. Yeah…That was when Mom first told me that. So if I'm dreaming…how am I sore…?
I looked around me frantically. There was no sign of the boy I had seen in the darkness. My heart sank. He seemed like he was the only key to figuring out what the hell was going on around here. Great, Rachel, now you're lost and hopeless, I mentally sighed. "This sucks so bad…" I muttered, flopping down in the grass. I don't know how long I was laying there, but I know that I fell asleep in the sun.
Such a wonderful dream, that boy was there again, and he was comforting me, whispering indistinct words in my ears. It made me feel calmer. But I got jerked out of that when I felt a cold, wet thing by my face. And…whiskers?! I yelped in surprise and shot up, my eyes snapped open. I stared wide-eyed as a Rattata(sp?) scampered away in fright. Oh man…this is no dream…This is real. I felt my face where the Rattata's nose had been and looked at my fingers. They were wet. This was really real. Way too real for my liking.
"Ohh, Rattata! Come back here, Rattata!" came a boy's voice. My heart thrilled. Perhaps it was the boy that was in the shadows? I couldn't quite remember his voice exactly, I just remember those words: "I'll try…" They were so soft and kind, carrying warmth and compassion….Or maybe the hormones imagined that part.
I looked up at the boy and my heart sank for the second time. This wasn't him. This boy had the darkest hair I'd ever seen, pure raven black, and brilliant green eyes. They reminded me of my mother's eyes. He was wearing a black tank top with a crimson Oriental-style dragon lacing across it and baggy black jeans. I looked at him for a moment. He looked emo, but I doubted that he was. He was grinning from ear to ear, and from what I understand, emo's don't really grin that often. Or at least, they try not to.
"Uhm…Excuse me," I said meekly, trying to get his attention. His ear flicked—or was that me again?—and he turned to me. He looked surprised.
"Oh! Uhm…Gimme just a second," he said, looking sheepish as he chased after his runaway Rattata. I sighed. Do I just wait here or what? It was now that I actually looked at myself. My eyes widened. This was hardly what I'd been wearing in my room. They were kinda tight jeans, not high-riders thank the Lord, and I was wearing a sleeveless shirt—borderline tube top if ya ask me—that was pure red with a black Flammel on it. ((Ooc: For people who watch FMA, that's the little symbol on Ed's cloak.)) I was wearing light blue tennis shoes. I stomped my foot in frustration as I realized I was a complete red-head now, ponytail to boot. If I hadn't known any better, I would have called myself a hillbilly slut. No wonder that kid was so freaked out, I thought, lying back in the grass.
"I hope he gets back soon," I muttered, my arms behind my head as I watched the clouds roll by.