Risk: Chapter One

The first day of school was always the hardest. But for a waitress in a lower-middle class neighborhood with a lackluster wardrobe to show for it, it became almost unbearable. However, she was nineteen now, and she needed to get over those first-day-of-school-jitters and overcome her anxieties so she could make it through the day in one piece.

And with a semblance of her sanity.

Rosemary Aer looked at her watch; a classic little silver analog her Uncle Charles got for her. She had another thirty minutes before she absolutely needed to leave their apartment and she would unfortunately be late. She despised being late, and she quite frankly had nothing else to do – she may as well head over to the university and get familiar with its layout a little before her first morning class.

She chose all morning classes, thank goodness, and only went to school Monday, Wednesday and Friday. She only wanted to go to school part time to save money as well as have some bit of freedom.

Freedom. What did that even mean? She had looked up the definition as a young child because, honestly, she wasn't sure she'd ever experienced what that was. Not that her Uncle Charles was ever overbearing – it was the rest of her life that usually came crashing down on her. She had the usual dramas – boyfriends, homework, after school activities that pressed close to her after school job sometimes – but that job was also her only source of income right now.

She was a waitress and pretty independent from her uncle; she paid for her own books, clothes, even her laptop for school – that had been quite a few nights' tips, but very much worth it. He appreciated that, since he was struggling to make ends meet as it was, and having someone in the house who pretty much just asked for a meal every once and awhile probably made his life a lot simpler.

As she left her tiny bedroom, she took one last look in the mirror; she wore this school girl chic navy blue dress and white undershirt, with matching white socks and black loafers. She dressed like she was still in high school, for goodness sakes. Oh well, too late to change now. Backpack in tow, she locked the door behind her, making sure the barred screen door was shut tight, and trotted down the disheveled, faded green stairs to the outside of the apartment building leading straight to the parking lot full of pot holes and broken dreams.

There were already working girls hanging by the dumpster across the street, probably trying to get one last customer before they get some shut-eye. Rose averted her blue gaze to the ground, only looking up a bit to catch a glimpse of the tires of her VW Beetle. It was a junky little green thing, but it was hers. Not many people in her neighborhood even had cars, so she had to be grateful. Hurriedly hopping in and locking the door immediately once inside, as she was trained to do by her uncle, she set her backpack on the passenger seat, started the car, and waited for the engine to calm down before putting on her seatbelt and heading on out.

It took fifteen minutes from her downtown apartment to get to the university. Once there, she texted her friend, Bunni, to let her know she arrived and asking if they had time to get coffee. Undoubtedly, the first day of school-line would be absolutely atrocious, so maybe not, but it would be nice to see a familiar face before heading to her first class of the day.

Rose and Bunni – real name Annabelle, but prefers Bunni – have been friends since sixth grade and have been in classes together since then. This is the first year since they'd met that they wouldn't be in classes together, if only because their studies were different. Bunni wanted to study history, while Rose studied to become a nurse. She'd already applied to jobs in the local hospitals, hoping to snag one to gain some type of experience. She took some collegiate classes that counted toward her major while in high school, which excelled her a by almost two full semesters. That definitely saved her some money, which also allowed her that leeway to do part time classes this semester. She was going to go harder next semester, surely.

Bunni got back to her – 'Already in class, sorry!' – and with that dejected answer, Rose made her way very slowly to her first class of the morning. It was Introductory Anatomy, mostly for terms. She had flashcards at the ready for this class. She wanted to absorb as much as possible to pass – she heard this one can be pretty intense if one didn't study well enough, and she didn't want to get left behind by any means.

Her next class was going to be Calculus; she'd passed through her math exam when she was testing for whatever path; then her third class was, of course, Writing 101. No matter what, she could never escape an English class. At least this one seemed rather interesting; she liked to write stories in school, so maybe this one she could actually get in to.

She drawled through the day, every class going through their extremely long and individualized paperwork, of course each one had almost the same deadlines for certain big projects – near the quarter-semester marks – which would suck with her job, but since she only went to class three times a week maybe she could manage.

Now she set off home, with it barely being 12:30 PM, meaning she had about three hours until her shift at work. She parked in her usual spot just in front of her complex's front door, and felt like she was about to fall asleep right then and there in her car. Her first day must have taken more of a toll on her than she initially believed. Too much talking, she thought as she grabbed her bag and opened her driver's side door –

Only to, in the next second, be engulfed by a bright flash of white light.

She felt all her breath be taken from her lungs, and she clutched on to her bag, holding it close to her chest as she suddenly felt herself falling, as if it was enough to help parachute her to safety – wherever safety happened to be.

All she saw was white for what felt like an eternity before finally the floor – if one could call it that – opened beneath her and she crashed onto hardwood. She groaned in pain, her left elbow and left knee taking the brunt of that fall. Her eyes were closed, her long dirty blond hair now in tangles all around her as she attempted to open her eyes through her frazzled bangs. But before she could get a handle on herself, someone was helping her to her feet by hauling her by the arm – the one she'd landed on, to which she had to stop herself from crying out in pain.

Rose whipped her head to her left, and there stood a woman – or they appeared as a woman. Brown hair, brown eyes, skin a little darker than her own pale pallor; they were full-on smiling at her like they'd just discovered something incredible.

"Erwin is not going to believe me," they said, their smile even wider now.

"Who?" Rose dared to ask.

Someone else – a taller man with a bowl cut and a rather nervous expression – approached the person before Rose and cautiously said, "You should probably get away from them, Commander Hange."

"And waste this discovery!" So Rose's initial analogy hadn't been far off. "Absolutely not. Tell me," now they were addressing Rose, hands still wrapped around her arm. "How did you do that?"

"Do… do what?" Rose squinted at the other person, clearly confused by the question.

"Well… fall from the sky, of course!"

"I – what?!"