Authors note: And here we are, chapter 6. gonna be honest. I don't have much of a plan as to where this fic is gonna go. But I believe strongly in a quote I myself have coined. "If a horse wont race drinking water, try whiskey." meaning in this case, if a fanfic doesn't prosper under a normal plot, fuck it up. And I intend to do just that.
Anne was coughing violently. The smoke filled room was falling apart, the sounds of her screams, the blaring sound of the blaze that had consumed her home, the roar of sirens, and the sheer chaos of everything happening assaulted her senses. The searing burn of the charred wood that had pinned her to the ground was drowned out by the fear that coursed through every inch of her being. Her throat was tightening, her eyes burning, and she felt weaker and weaker with every dread drenched moment. She gave up on pushing off the wooden support beam. She found bliss in the darkness that swallowed her. Serenity in peaceful, dark, empty, complete, oblivion. But as all good things must. It had to end sometime.
She was back, floating on an old wood crate, completely surrounded by walls of flame, struggling to keep consciousness. She watched helplessly as Charlie and Carface hung high above the rocking water, Carface clinging to Charlie, hanging from a crumbling metal cat walk. Every bite and kick warranting pained grunts, muffled by the water flooding into the ship. How much did you have to hate someone to still fight them over a watery death trap? Finally Charlie managed to kick Carface off of him, screaming as he fell five stories, beaten and broken he disappeared into the blue abyss. She was fighting to stat awake, fueled by the sight of Charlie swimming in panic towards her, still clutching his lucky golden watch. She couldn't find it anymore, and she fell from her wooden perch, quickly sinking into the deep. She blacked out for a few seconds, coming to and finding herself hoisted onto a large plank of wood. Weakly falling onto it, she felt charlie push it, barely making out five oh so faint words.
"you can make it, kid!" and as she fell from the land of reality, a single tear slid down her cheek.
Anne's eyes shot open with a sharp breath. She attempted to move, but a horrific pain stopped her. She slowly looked around, realizing she was in a hospital. Her body littered with bandages, a breather strapped to her face. Her mind filled with a hundred questions all at once. Where were her parents? Were they okay? How did she get out? Was she seriously injured, and... what was in the hospital bed with her? Her eyes widened as she realized a lump was next to her, hidden by a blanket. She was tempted to move, but didn't want to deal with the oh so annoying pain. Luckily, the weight shifted, and poked his head out from under the blanket, revealing Annes favorite overgrown hot dog, Itchy, Itchaford. Sporting his trademark reversed red cap and green jacket. "Itchy? How did you get in here?"
she had forgotten that she was in the aftermath of a tragedy, back in the mind of the little girl she had been once upon a scheming German Shepard.
"oh well, I just asked nicely, and they let me in." Itchy snickered at himself before continuing.
"i sneaked in through the window. You look a bit different kid, did you do something with your hair?"
well, I threw this together in one night... as to where the last chapter, took a year... wow...