chapter 1: You Can Prove Nothing
username: UzamakiMasumi
I stared up at the enormous tower in front of me. Fifteen glorious stories. This was the highest building I'd ever gotten to actually look out a window of. Granted, I had been higher than this before when I took a ride in a two-seater airplane two summers ago, but this was going to be different. I wouldn't be locked up in that tiny compartment being distracted by all the gadgets as I tried to figure out how the plane worked.
I was in Indianapolis at a women's Christian conference with my mother and sister, and this fifteen story tower was the Indianapolis World War Memorial. What a unique name, nee? It grew up from the ground almost like a young tree, fatter at the bottom and narrowing as it reached for the sun. Overall, it was an extremely skinny tower, though; it reminded me of an obelisk (*1).
I turned back to the slowpokes I was forced to share a roof with. "Tia! Hurry up! Mom, why can't we take the stairs?" I complained.
My older sister, Tia, gave me an almost spiteful look. "Because we are normal. Unlike you."
"Tia, you are sooo mean," I pouted, but I didn't really mind. That was just the way she was. She was selfish and took her insecurities out on other people; it wasn't going to sway me.
"You can't take the stairs," my mother quickly said before an argument could ensue, "Because I already bought the ticket for you take the elevator up."
"What!?!" I yelled, alerting all passerbies to a possible nonexistent danger. "Fine, but I am not going to take the elevator down."
I had really wanted to take the stairs. Call me strange, but I saw this as a challenge. I am normally lazy, but as long as there isn't much mental work to it, I'm all for the excruciating pain! I decided to see this as a new challenge, though. That being, the challenge of not becoming pissy at my mother forcing me to take the stupid elevator. At least it was an older one--and we all know how fun antiquies are--and I was about to go fifteen stories up. I know that I have already said this, but FIFTEEN STORIES UP PEOPLE!
That may not seem like much to some of you, but you have to remember where I lived. I grew up in a small town in central Wisconsin where my old, over a hundred year old house was considered one of the biggest in town. It only has two stories, an unenterable attic and a basement, so I think you get the picture.
Once inside of the elevator my mother began her complaining, as is usual. "This elevator is so cramped with only just three of us," she said. "I'd hate to be claustrophobic."
Well, then I guess it's a good thing that you're not, I thought bitterly, but I was quickly reprimanded by a deep, soothing voice inside of my head that was distinctly male. Most would find this strange. I just found it, well, normal.
"Audriana, you need to calm down," he reminded me. "Just remember, you only have one more year to go. You must fight your pride for now and live by the instinct to survive."
I, as Riley has said before, I told him, am more prideful than pride itself. I can't simply put it aside. This new presence in my mind faded away, realizing the conversation had come to an end. We were nearing the top of the building, and I had to keep up my appearance.
As the elevator doors slid open, I let out a small squeal of delight. Low and behold, there were still a few levels of stairs because the tower was too narrow for an elevator this high up. In your face, peoples! I silently shouted and ran to the top, leaving my family behind me.
Once there, I was slightly dismayed by something, but before I had a chance to dwell on this fact, my mother came up behind me, saying, "Look, even the balcony area is cramped. This place is so busy today when it was literally empty yesterday."
I inwardly glowered, fed up with my mother. I felt that familiar presence once more in my mind, but before he had a chance to say something I turned on him, glaring into the man's face. I was always struck by the contrast between his pale skin and his longer, dark hair.
Don't even start, Adrian, I growled. I'm not in the mood. She just irritates the living hell out of me.
Playing by the older brother role he's always taken on, Adrian just sighed. "Even if she is not your biological mother, she still cares for you."
I resisted my strong urge to burst and yell at Adrian, but I knew that he could still tell. She is disgusting. We are not going to talk about her right now. Then I cheerfully smiled both mentally and physically, and asked Adrian, So how do you suppose that I could remove these beastly windows?
For those of you who are confused, that thing that had slightly dismayed me before the interruption was the windows. I'm not sure why--because as I look back, that wasn't really very logical--but I had somehow assumed that it would be an open balcony. Strictly speaking, that wouldn't be safe and would probably even be illegal, but that was what I had been hoping for.
I didn't give Adrian a chance to answer me, though, before saying, Never mind. I have an idea. I was sure I was evilly grinning.
"Oi! Mama," I called and spun around quickly to face said person. "You wouldn't happen to have a Phillips screwdriver in that handy dandy purse of yours, would 'ya?"
She eyed me suspiciously. "Why would you want a screwdriver?"
Tia, on the other hand, apparently knew what I wanted it for. "Do not give her a screwdriver, Mom," she warned. "She only wants to do something illegal." Also, she was speaking in a tone one should only use with children. Well, technically it shouldn't be used with anyone, but you get the point.
I turned on her accusingly. "You can prove nothing," I told her dramatically before turning back to my mother. "Now, Mother, could you please hand me the screwdriver."
"I don't have a screwdriver, Audriana."
"WHY!?!" I exclaimed quite loudly, most likely irritating the other strangers up there in the process. "You are useless to me! But seriously, how can you not have a screwdriver in there? That purse has everything! You have a knife in there, a little notebook, two or three pens, a little pair of scissors, a Tide stain remover marker, a LITTLE GRANOLA BAR THAT FILLS YOU UP BUT HAS ONLY NINETY CALORIES. SO. WHY. DON'T. YOU. HAVE. A. SCREWDRIVER!?!"
I felt myself twitch a bit. It wasn't her fault, but I was still irritated. "I hate windows!" I screamed. "Despise them! I want to feel the air and be able to look straight down!!!"
I then proceeded to beat the window with my fists, followed by my throwing myself at it, which didn't work out so well. Or perhaps it worked too well.
You see, I was, for once, actually caught off guard by what happened next. In most cases nothing fazes me. Yet in this certain sticky situation even someone such as my amazing self would be surprised for just a bit. I began one more round of "I HATE WINDOWS" but before I reached the end the rushing air around me carried it off into the wind.
Wait. 'How could there be wind?' I am sure you are asking. 'After all, weren't there glass windows?' Well, allow me to explain.
I had just fallen through a window. And I was over it, though I briefly wondered at my sudden ability to defy the laws of physics. After all, I'm pretty sure that it is not scientifically possible to slip through solid material... Unless that solid material is fog... But this is obviously glass, and not fog, so we won't dwell on that thought any longer.
As my body plummeted toward pavement and cars, I was on an all-time high. Also, I was having what I assumed would be the most interesting and or crazy last thoughts a person could have: SWEET! I finally get to live my lifelong dream of pure freefalling! Although, I suppose this does mean I'm about to die, doesn't it? Eh. I'm actually freefalling!!!
!!!
Crash. Rustle. More crashing. Then silence.
Unfortunately, these weren't to be my last thoughts, for I was no longer freefalling, yet I was still obviously alive. What the fuck? Was there really someone out there stupid enough to actually cut off my lifelong dream in action!? Were they looking to die!? Or did they perhaps just want me to bring my revenge notebooks back out!? People were about to start suffering terribly badly, and they wouldn't even know why or how these disasters were happening. And don't get me started on the letters.
A loud crack brought me out of my reverie, and I looked down only to realize that I was still twenty feet above the ground. I stretched an arm out experimentally and my whole body swung forward a bit. Another crack rang through the air. I craned my head back and realized that I was hanging from a dead branch by my piano belt. If the leather ripped, I was not going to be happy.
I wondered as to how I was going to get myself out of this predicament, and I knew that I didn't have much time to come up with a plan. That branch was only going to last thirty seconds if I was lucky.
There were no living branches nearby to swing, jump, or climb to; and movement would only shorten my time. Scanning farther out I noticed a lone branch about eight feet down. That would be my only chance. I'd have to wait for the branch to give out and hope that I could latch onto the other one. It would at least shorten the fall.
Now mind you, I came up with this plan in under ten seconds, and two seconds later a snap reverberated through the air. Then G-force kicked in and the ground was arriving fast. Everything was a blur, and I almost missed the branch. I stretched my leg out and just landed on it. I had to run forward a few feet to try to catch my balance.
Unfortunately, I stupidly took one step too many and was dropping once again. It all went too quickly to give me the chance to be surprised, though, so I immediately curled up into a ball. I knew it was the best protection. What did surprise me was that when I hit the ground I was able to skillfully roll into a crouch and survey the area. I normally wasn't quite that coordinated. I suppose it was thanks to my constantly rolling off of chairs onto the floor, and jumping into a crouch at home. Yes, I am that dorky.
I didn't recognize anything specific; this could be any manga--and it was definitely manga or at the very least cartoon. I should have been thankful that I arrived in the middle of nowhere rather than in front of millions of people, but this was making it really difficult to pinpoint the manga-ka. Trees don't say much, especially since they're always drawn by the assistants and not even the real story maker.
I sighed. This world was not making it easy for me, was it? I slowly unfolded my body and stretched. Well, guess I won't ever be making it to Le Cordon Bleu, I thought bitterly. Then I changed my mental voice to a cheerful note. On the bright side, I no longer have to fight my pride for a whole year.
I glanced down at my watch. It always seemed almost clunky on me. It had been a larger guy’s watch, but my friend Riley and I had both agreed that it was just too pretty to not buy. So I'd had about three of its already larger links taken out to fit my own wrist, and it was still loose.
It was only 3:27 P.M. Hmm... I quickly pulled my FMA pocket watch out of my right pocket to double check and make sure they were still accurate. 3:27 P.M. Next I checked my Kurosutsji pocket watch which had been in the side pocket further down the right leg of my cargo pants. 3:28 P.M. but barely. I rechecked my wristwatch to make sure it hadn't somehow sped up and found that it said 3:28 P.M. now as well. Safe. This was going to be fun.
I wasn't really hungry right now, but by tomorrow at this time I most likely would be at least a little. It'd be a good idea to look for edible plants and fruit right away. I'd also need to find shelter. I had no idea where I was; therefore I had no idea what kind of weather to expect. Better safe than sorry. It might be a good idea to try drying some fruit and berries if I found enough. After all, I also had no idea how long the growing season was here, and it was already August 9(the beginning of August).
Perhaps after I'd gotten my bearings and maybe recognized something I could try to find a town. I am horrendously directionally impaired, so I should never just start wandering. It can only end in disaster.
TWO AND A HALF hours later I was very grateful for my childhood of intense 4-H involvement, as well as my obsession with books such as My Side of the Mountain and Hatchet. My obsession with my adoptive family's Native American heritage was also useful. I had always found it ironic that I was the only one actually interested in it, seeing as I was also the only one not actually carrying their blood, but my family had indulged my obsession, buying artifacts, books on their culture, and even taking me to museums and a few tours of Native American Reserves. It was helping me now.
I'd collected a few varieties of edible berries, plants, and roots. I'd avoided quite a few poisonous ones. I had found some ferns and long grass that would make good bedding. I'd even started a fire--without a lighter or matches, thank you. There was just one problem.
The shelter.
In my learnings I had been taught to make a shelter with what was around me in nature. However, that was nearly ten years ago when I was an eight year old girl at her first year of 4-H Camp. I seemed to have forgotten how to keep the lean-to branch from slipping off its perch. Also, the ferns didn't seem to want to stay in place.
There was only one option left, and it involved semi-weaving. I didn't feel there was a need for such a permanent shelter, and I didn't care to put in the mental effort required for it at the moment. Plus, night was fast approaching, and it would take a while.
I thoughtfully tapped my nose, taking in all of my soon to be resting place. The upper left corner was sagging a bit, and there was a slight cave in near the back. Also, there was a "natural" skylight right above my makeshift pillow. The sound of approaching footsteps caught my attention, and I started to turn around.
"Excuse me," I heard a delicate, almost familiar voice say.
I froze mid-twirl. I twisted my head to get a look at the face, and I swear my jaw hit the ground. It had to of.
Well, I knew who the manga-ka was now.
Chapter End
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Story notes: Well, as some of you may know, I was working on a story titled No Escape From Nonsense with DropDeadThenDance and ScreamingWriterPuppy a while back, but we kind of dropped it hoping to make a better version of it. That ended up failing too, but I really fell in love with the story. Sooo, with the permission of DropDeadThenDance, I created this story which is based off of those ones. If you were reading NEFN you might recognize some characters and incidents. Please treat me kindly.
Chapter notes: Hey, guys. If you are reading this, I really love you and hope you will like my story. I was actually planning on uploading this a LONG time ago, but I was having difficulties with choosing which title I should use. *sweatdrop* Thank you so much DropDeadThenDance!
I really would appreciate reviews on what you think and especially on improvements I could make. Even if you hated it my story, I will still welcome your critique.
Thanks! And please read on and please treat me kindly! *bow*
Chapter end notes: *1. Around 3500 B.C., the Egyptians built obelisks—tall four-sided tapered monuments—and placed them in strategic locations to cast shadows from the sun. Their moving shadows formed a kind of sundial, enabling citizens to partition the day into two parts by indicating noon. They also showed the year's longest and shortest days when the shadow at noon was the shortest or longest of the year. Later, markers added around the base of the monument would indicate further time subdivisions.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Obelisk