Here is the next chapter! I'm afraid that from now on this won't be a regular thing because I'll be even more busy. How time did fly? How many years have I been working on my fanfictions? Anyway, that doesn't matter. Enjoy the chapter!
I kept following the butterfly. As the illusion master, I knew what my illusions knew, and it knew where my memories were. I trusted the butterfly, so when it flew fast, I flew fast, when it stopped, I stopped; I followed it's every move. I was stalking the butterfly. The butterfly wasn't afraid of me (well, it was a little), it knew I wasn't going to hurt it. We started to have some problems once it got cold.
I didn't understand, we were in Antarctica; why would Pitch be in a place where there was no one to scare? It was snowing, so it was harder for the butterfly to fly through the air, but don't worry, I made it stronger and more durable; I wasn't giving up. I also took notice to give myself some lining in my clothes, so I wouldn't freeze myself.
We kept flying around until the butterfly descended. I looked down and saw something in the snow; it was a little hard to make out. We landed, and I saw that the thing was a big black cube thing. I took a closer look at it; there was an opening in the top and a door. It was a box. I looked in and saw something gleaming in there. My memories were in a box.
I took a brief moment to ponder my situation, and then I noticed the butterfly taking in the cold.
"Thank you," I told it. I then waved my hand and it disappeared.
So this how Pitch wanted to deal with me. Throw my memories in a box and when I go in after them it will shut on me; I will not be able to get out; I will be trapped; I will be out of Pitch's hair for who knows how long he will leave me in there; who knows how long I'll survive in there?
Pitch could not seriously believe I'd be stupid enough to fall for this. Some of you are probably telling me not to do it, some of you might be telling me to get the heck out of there and leave my memories for another time. Okay, try putting yourself in my shoes (you know, if I wore any): I've just lost everything. I've just lost the trust of my closest and pretty much only friend, and everyone doesn't like me right now. I have nowhere to go where I won't be in danger or get into trouble, besides the deserts. I don't have lot of good memories and it isn't a good time for me right now. I have no idea who I am or who I'm meant to be, heck, I have no idea why I'm even here. I have no idea how I came to be who I am, no memory of my life before. Some of you might say that's a good thing, but it's really not. I'm like the only person like me without any memories of her early life. I feel like there should be something there, but there isn't. The only thing to make the whole of my life better, possibly, is getting my memories back.
Now I'm not stupid. I'm not going to go headfirst into the box like Pitch wants, but being me, I could try to find another way to get my memories out. First, I tried to tilt the box so I could roll the memories out. The box was really heavy. I made a car jack to try to help me lift it, but the box just broke my jack and my illusion dissipated. I tried to make giant invisible hands to lift it, but that was still straining. I tried to make a giant invisible foot to kick it, the box just stubbed the invisible toes. I tried to use my sword against a stone I made like a lever; it broke my sword, then my rock dissipated. I fixed my sword and brainstormed another idea to get my memories.
I obviously couldn't lift the box. My next idea was to reach in and grab them. I tried doing that while staying safely outside the box, but I couldn't reach. I tried extending my arm; I almost got my memories that time. My hand brushed the memory box, but when I went to grasp it…
"YOUCH!" I quickly pulled my hand back out. Something in the box had bite me, at least that's what it felt like when my fingers brushed the side of the box. I definitely didn't want to go in there now.
So, I couldn't risk touching the sides of the box. What if it wasn't me touching the box? What if I made a hand that couldn't feel pain? That was great plan. I went ahead and made what I needed: a fishing line with a hand at the end. This was brilliant!
Excitedly, I lowered my contraption into the box, releasing the reel. I heard the hand go 'thunk' against the box sides. I knew the sides were biting but the hand couldn't feel it. I had the hand grab the memory box, and then I reeled the line back in really fast. This was it; I was getting my memories; I outsmarted Pitch!
Of course, just as I was being so hopeful, I heard a clunk against the box sides like my memories had been dropped. That made no sense, I didn't tell the hand to let go, and the hand couldn't feel pain so it couldn't have winced. I got my answer as I finished reeling it in. The line broke.
That didn't make sense; I made it so that wouldn't happen. I tried checking the hand's perspective to see what happened, but I couldn't, the hand was gone. Did it dissipate? Just then, because I was the Illusion master, the knowledge of what happened streamed into my head.
The darkness ate the hand; IT ATE THE HAND, plus the string attached to it. Now I most definitely, really, really didn't want to go in there! Pitch was tormenting me; keeping my memories in a place I couldn't go.
I was running out of ideas. My memories were sitting in the dark black box, calling out to me. I was desperate. I had one more idea up my sleeve. I'd have to dangle myself in there, holding on the outside so the door couldn't close, and get the memories myself.
So, holding onto the outside rim with my foot, I dangled myself in the box. I could see my memories; they were right in front of me. I reached out to grab onto them, making sure not to touch the edges. I grabbed them, pulled them up and firmly clasped them. I did it; I had them in the hand; I got my memories back!
I looked the side of the canister. There was a picture of a little girl with blue eyes and blonde hair, and a name 'Ema Craw Fay'. I was so excited, I would be getting my memories back, and all I had to do was get out of here and open them. I whooped for joy.
"YEAH! I DID IT! TAKE THAT, PITCH; YOU STUPID BOOGEYMAN!" Unfortunately, either my yelling or the lack of the canister touching the box triggered something. The part of the box which my foot was resting started to burn. The instinct reaction was to wince in pain and get away from what's hurting you.
"OWWW!" I yelped. My foot shimmied off its hold and landed itself in the box with me. I dropped the memories as I hit the box side, and before I could register what was happening, the box, knowing its cue, shut its door behind me, sealing me in.
DUN DUN DUN! Another Cliffhanger; boy, I can be evil when I want. Tell me what you think in your reviews!
