First off, my last chapter was awful. Hit her head on a dryer? Really, it's stupid, but I was going for a believable, real life scenario. We couldn't have her being rushed to the hospital,and published in all the medical tabloids, etc. Her secret identity would be easy to guess. Please just keep reading, I promise it will get better.
Chapter 2
Like I said previously, you have a splitting headache when you wake up after hitting your head. I know I did, so I tried my customary "I don't have a headache, I don't have a headache." Breathe in. Breathe out. "Your name is Meredith" Breathe in. Breathe out. Then I reviewed all the other facts about myself. I got up to go get a pain killer from the medicine cabinet. Just before I swallowed one, I realized something... I didn't have a headache any more! "That's odd," I thought to myself, but then thought no more of it.
Two days later: Back to school. First class: Math.
The teacher had just finished writing a really challenging math problem, and I, seconds after, blurted out "The answer is 271.4675." The entire class turned to look at me and I tried to shrink into my seat. My teacher nearly fell out of her chair. "Correct," she said, kind of shakily. The same thing happened in all my other classes, my knowing impossible things, actually understanding completely concepts I had never even heard of.
After school, another girl, Sophie, came up to me.
"How did you do that?" she asked. Sophie was in all of the advanced classes with me (even before I hit my head I was pretty smart).
" I have no idea," I replied. That was the end of our conversation.
When I got home, I had a snack and headed to my room to do my homework. My bedroom door was closed. "Odd," I thought, "I never close that door. I opened it and found myself staring into a brilliant white. It sucked me in and the door closed. Leaving me surrounded by light, with no way out.
Oh, how I hate cut-off endings, and love writing them. don't get me wrong this isn't the end of the story, just the end of this chapter. Please let me know if my writing is getting better or worse. I blame all typos on my cousin, who likes to type with her feet on other people's keyboards WHILE they are trying to write stories. One more thing, I'm going to a family reunion this next week, so I may or may not update.