Chapter 1--I don't think I should be here...
The rain was pouring. It wasn’t a thunderstorm, just a heavy rainfall. It wasn’t the best night for me to run away.
Okay, I guess I should start at the beginning; my name is Leah. Yeah I know you were expecting some magical name like uh…Samria or Kal’rin’gola or something equally retarded. No, I’m just Leah.
I was told to make this stupid ‘recorded’ statement, to try to convince my parents (and the rest of the world) that I’m not crazy. That’s going to be very hard considering they also want the truth.
Anyway, I was running away while it was poring. Had some stupid idea that the tracking dogs wouldn’t find me. Of course I didn’t think about the fact that I was going to freeze to death. Or that there might be some psycho rapist slash killer on the loose. But hey, I had my chocolate and bottled water so I was all good.
I live—no…lived in the ‘burbs of Detroit Michigan, never actually been to the place but I could still brag. So, my point is, I was running into this restricted area. No one knows (should I say knew?)-- why it’s restricted and no one has really tried to get over the huge stone wall with about two feet of barbed wire topping it off.
But I’m not most people…I mean I’m making a statement in a psycho ward—hey…that hurt. If you smack me again…I’m going to smack you back. Geez…the people here are really impatient.
So I gues I'll continue. I went to the front door or should I say gate? There was a button and as a fifteen years old I pushed it.
“Whad ya want?” It, obviously, was a man’s voice.
“Uh…I came here to see my…uh…dad” Come on…it was the first thing I could think of!
“You Larson’s daughter?”
“Um…oh…uh-huh.” What luck! I mean, this stuff only happens in the movies!
“Can you show your ID?” This is where I started swearing in my head.
“Huh?”
“Into the camera.”
“Geez mister…I’m real sorry…but daddy didn’t tell me to bring an ID.” I was thinking that if one magic thing happened, maybe— but he so rudely interrupted my thoughts.
“Can’t get in without an ID”
“P-please mister? It’s really cold a-and rainy out here.” I did that childish thing of clasping my hands together and swinging around. Remember you almighty people who decide if I’m a psycho or not, I am fifteen…this doesn’t really help my case…does it?
“Aww (I will not repeat this word because my parents are standing behind one of those one sided window things)” the gate did slide open. I saw a building and, naturally, went into it.
“Thank you so much mister.”
“Sit down and shut up until I go get your father.”
“No…um…you really don’t have to…”
“Um…yes…I really do.” I sat. While I did, I noticed a huge window facing the forest enclosed that was enclosed in the stone walls.
“Christy…hey” I looked to see a dude with brown hair and brown eyes staring dumbly at me, “you’re not Christy…”
“No…um…I’m here for a job.” I stood, holding out my hand with a serious expression on my face. By the way…I’m really good at lying…wait…but I’m not lying about this…great. Now they think I’m crazy.
Okay already! I’ll get on with my ‘statement.’
Well, he looked over me and my outstretched arm, which was starting to ache, and smiled. He took it.
“Are you a virgin?” Okay, I don’t know if you’ve ever had anyone ask you that, but it really makes people uncomfortable.
“Um…yeah…”
“You’re hired.” Both the rude guy's mouth and my mouths hung open. Okay, okay. I’ve just always wanted to be in a situation where my mouth hangs opened. But you get my drift, right? We were surprised.
“Sir…”
“I’ll have none of that Paul.”
“Um…thank you?” He just hired me on the pretense that I was a virgin. Which made me start thinking about the rapists on television…did they like ‘experienced’ people or people like me.
“Tomorrow, you go outside.”
“And?”
“That’s it. Go outside and walk around.”
“Am I going to get killed?” I asked. Yes, I was freaked. And hungry.
“No.” He laughed.
“I’ll show you to your room.” Mr. Larson walked away, and then came back when I wasn’t following him. “Come on.”
**
The room wasn’t bad. It had a pretty comfortable cot, an attached bathroom and a closet, but it lacked personality.
The walls were white and the carpet a kind of tanish color. I set my soaked bag by the closet.
“Do you have shampoo?” I turned around and asked Mr. Larson.
“Yes, it’s in the bathroom.”
“Thanks. If its okay, I’m gonna shower now.” Mr. Larson nodded. I won’t go into all the juicy details, but I took a shower. So sue me.
Okay, after I took a shower, I collapsed. I was tired since I’d just ran for a while.
Alright, alright! It was just a mile or two, but I’m not a freaking cross country person. I HATE running.
On to business:
When I woke up, Larson basically dragged a half-asleep version of me (very cranky, just ask mom) out side. He said something along the lines of walk around outside. Don’t trip and die…blah, blah, blah.
There actually is a lot of space in that reservation, full of trees and meadows and really pretty stuff. I didn’t care.
I’d found a nice, comfy rock and I fell asleep. Asleep on the first day, how lovely. Hey! I never said I had a huge work ethic!
What’s important, and the reason why I’m sitting on this cold metal chair, is that when I woke up, a unicorn was staring me in the face. No kidding. A freaking unicorn.
***hehe...I edited this, so...yeah****
