Post by Meredith on Jul 14, 2014 3:57:34 GMT -5
Many of us have written stories of how it'd go down if we were sucked into the CtB universe. What would happen if they came into ours?
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"So, did it work?"
"I believe it worked."
"Stop asking questions, get out of my way, and we'll find out if it worked or not."
The muscular blonde male confidently yet carefully pushed his way past the two females in front of him, one being a tall woman whose 5'8" stature was dwarfed in comparison to her great power, the other being a little wisp of a thing. The blonde man stared at the strange purple website that lit up the computer in the media room. A website that seemed to tell their stories, all of their stories. Every word seemed to echo their reality, their pains, their joys, yet the writers seemed disconnected from it all, perhaps believing it to be fiction. How could such a place exist?
"Well, tough guy? Lead the way. Or are you just going to stand there and flex your muscles until something happens?" The little one waved her cigarette around impatiently.
"You're a sassy little thing when you're sober," the taller light-haired woman casually noted, a small smile of both amusement and hope gracing her lips as she recalled better times, times during which her friend did not need substances to get through the days at all.
"Come on," the blonde man responded. He cautiously extended his fingertips toward... onto... and finally, to his amazement, into the bright computer screen. The women gasped, and soon, all three proceeded into the unknown world on the other side.
Oh God. Sunlight. No. I'm late. I have to be late. If it's this bright outside, there's no way I'm not late. Okay. Up. Get up. One, two, three... up! Come on, Anna. You are great. You are smart. You are kind. You are going to do wonderful things today. You are so fucking late. Uggggggggggggggghhhhksdfksdjfls.
Crying and regretting the whole way, I crept down from the top bunk in which I slept and made my way to the living room and then into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, making sure to be as quiet as possible the whole time to avoid waking my roommates.
"Good morning," I yawned to the three strangers using my laptop.
Wait, what?
All six eyes shifted in unison to look at me, and we all engaged in an impromptu stare-down, though to be honest, I felt unfairly outnumbered, and I quickly forfeited by speaking.
"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, half-wondering if this was another one of my crack-pipe dreams. They all looked at each other for a moment, contemplating their next move, then ignored me entirely and returned to using my laptop.
"Why does your playlist involve so much of this 'Sleeping with Sirens?'" one of the girls said to the other. "I don't think I would like to sleep with a siren. Sirens are loud." The taller woman laughed, and I glared indignantly.
"No, no, no, no, it's not 'siren' like on an ambulance, it's 'siren' like the beautiful but soul-sucking mythological creature-- wait, why am I humoring you? Who are you people, and what the hell are you doing in my apartment? How did you even get in? I'm going to call the police," I threatened groggily. It was no use. I knew that. How intimidating could I possibly be in my Psych pajamas and my pre-coffee stupor?
"And tell them what? That your imaginary friends broke into your apartment?" the short one mocked. What was she talking about, my imaginary friends? Last I checked, I didn't believe in Santa Claus.
Wait, did she say "your" playlist when she was talking to the older one?
I thought to the extensive music library that I kept on my computer and mentally went through all of my playlists. There was the general, music-I-like playlist. There was the one dedicated to me and Chris. Oh, and of course, a muse playlist for each of my characters.
My characters!
Now, I'm not normally one to misuse the word 'literally,' but the only way I can truly emphasize strongly enough what happened here is that my jaw literally fell to the floor as I once again stared at the three individuals in my living room.
"Meredith. Isabelle. Tristan," I acknowledged.
"In the flesh," Meredith confirmed with a smile, and Isabelle loudly applauded my accurate realization.
"Shhh! You're going to wake up my roommates," I scolded. I didn't know how I was going to explain this if any of them were to wake up and discover my secret online life sitting on our apartment floor.
"You're not as pretty as they say," Isabelle commented.
"I know. I mean, I just woke up. I mean- never mind. You need to go back in there." I pointed at my computer.
(to be continued)
------------
"So, did it work?"
"I believe it worked."
"Stop asking questions, get out of my way, and we'll find out if it worked or not."
The muscular blonde male confidently yet carefully pushed his way past the two females in front of him, one being a tall woman whose 5'8" stature was dwarfed in comparison to her great power, the other being a little wisp of a thing. The blonde man stared at the strange purple website that lit up the computer in the media room. A website that seemed to tell their stories, all of their stories. Every word seemed to echo their reality, their pains, their joys, yet the writers seemed disconnected from it all, perhaps believing it to be fiction. How could such a place exist?
"Well, tough guy? Lead the way. Or are you just going to stand there and flex your muscles until something happens?" The little one waved her cigarette around impatiently.
"You're a sassy little thing when you're sober," the taller light-haired woman casually noted, a small smile of both amusement and hope gracing her lips as she recalled better times, times during which her friend did not need substances to get through the days at all.
"Come on," the blonde man responded. He cautiously extended his fingertips toward... onto... and finally, to his amazement, into the bright computer screen. The women gasped, and soon, all three proceeded into the unknown world on the other side.
Oh God. Sunlight. No. I'm late. I have to be late. If it's this bright outside, there's no way I'm not late. Okay. Up. Get up. One, two, three... up! Come on, Anna. You are great. You are smart. You are kind. You are going to do wonderful things today. You are so fucking late. Uggggggggggggggghhhhksdfksdjfls.
Crying and regretting the whole way, I crept down from the top bunk in which I slept and made my way to the living room and then into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, making sure to be as quiet as possible the whole time to avoid waking my roommates.
"Good morning," I yawned to the three strangers using my laptop.
Wait, what?
All six eyes shifted in unison to look at me, and we all engaged in an impromptu stare-down, though to be honest, I felt unfairly outnumbered, and I quickly forfeited by speaking.
"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, half-wondering if this was another one of my crack-pipe dreams. They all looked at each other for a moment, contemplating their next move, then ignored me entirely and returned to using my laptop.
"Why does your playlist involve so much of this 'Sleeping with Sirens?'" one of the girls said to the other. "I don't think I would like to sleep with a siren. Sirens are loud." The taller woman laughed, and I glared indignantly.
"No, no, no, no, it's not 'siren' like on an ambulance, it's 'siren' like the beautiful but soul-sucking mythological creature-- wait, why am I humoring you? Who are you people, and what the hell are you doing in my apartment? How did you even get in? I'm going to call the police," I threatened groggily. It was no use. I knew that. How intimidating could I possibly be in my Psych pajamas and my pre-coffee stupor?
"And tell them what? That your imaginary friends broke into your apartment?" the short one mocked. What was she talking about, my imaginary friends? Last I checked, I didn't believe in Santa Claus.
Wait, did she say "your" playlist when she was talking to the older one?
I thought to the extensive music library that I kept on my computer and mentally went through all of my playlists. There was the general, music-I-like playlist. There was the one dedicated to me and Chris. Oh, and of course, a muse playlist for each of my characters.
My characters!
Now, I'm not normally one to misuse the word 'literally,' but the only way I can truly emphasize strongly enough what happened here is that my jaw literally fell to the floor as I once again stared at the three individuals in my living room.
"Meredith. Isabelle. Tristan," I acknowledged.
"In the flesh," Meredith confirmed with a smile, and Isabelle loudly applauded my accurate realization.
"Shhh! You're going to wake up my roommates," I scolded. I didn't know how I was going to explain this if any of them were to wake up and discover my secret online life sitting on our apartment floor.
"You're not as pretty as they say," Isabelle commented.
"I know. I mean, I just woke up. I mean- never mind. You need to go back in there." I pointed at my computer.
(to be continued)
