Chapter Seventeen: Rose

She got out her keys to unlock the front door. Just a normal day; a normal girl talking to normal friends, going to normal classes. Riding a normal bus home, coming home to a normal house.

But today is anything but normal for the girl. Hardly anyone in her daily life even knows what today is, because she never told anyone. Just never crossed her mind.

She got in the door, dropped her stuff on the floor, and went upstairs. When she got into her room, she stepped out of her shoes, climbing over her bed to get to her window, which she promptly opened. She removed the screen, and crawled out onto the roof.

She relaxed a while, just sitting there, listening to the rustling of the trees. There was one in front of every house in the neighborhood; once too small to climb, now the branches too high to reach. She took in a deep breath: the smell of last night's rain, the dirt that was just sort of everywhere, and the moss growing on the very roof she was sitting on. Running her hand through her hair, she listened to the sound of birds, of school buses and small kids running through their own yards.

She liked moments like this: moments where time seems to stop, even though it's clear it still passes. The feeling of knowing there's nowhere to be tomorrow, nothing to be done tonight. No promises made, nothing demanding attention. It's a time when you can just pretend your life doesn't exist, just for a few moments. And how relaxing those moments are.

She sighed and stood up. How she wished she had a sibling. Maybe things would be different. Wishful thinking aside, it was time to get moving. How sad this would be... for everyone.

She climbed back inside, onto her bed. It had seemed like a good idea to put it next to the window at the time, but now it was obviously cumbersome. She replaced the screen, closed the window, and set to work.


Hours later, she had the supplies she needed ready. She had to go. It wasn't easy, leaving, but she had no choice. She'd been called. And her parents, she knew, wouldn't allow that. And they especially wouldn't allow what she knew she'd eventually become. She'd have to go a certain way.

She had braided her longish brown hair into the two simple braids she liked so much, to keep them out of her face while she packed. The device had fit so nicely into her backpack, and it was then she devised a plan. She tied her shoes back onto her feet, slipped the now extremely heavy backpack onto her shoulders, and went back downstairs. By now her mother was home, and she stopped to talk to her.

"Hey, Mom, is it okay if I go to Munchkin's house? We wanna work on that comic some more," she said.

"Sure," said her mother. "I'll call you when dinner's ready. Which should be... Six thirty. Ish."

"Cool," she said, and shoved a warm hat over her ears. She grabbed a coat, too -- didn't know what the weather would be like. She walked outside, stiffly, strangely, as if her legs were warning her this was a bad idea. She told herself that this was for the best, that if she didn't die here, then her parents would go searching for her, which would be even worse. Of course, either way, she wouldn't actually be dead. Probably. But she wanted everyone else to think that she was. Because after she did what she was going to do, she might as well be.

She walked right out into the street, where there was a car conveniently driving down the road. She waited for it to get closer, then screamed loudly, dramatically, to get her mother's attention. In two seconds, her mother was out on the porch, looking to where the scream had come from. Her mother saw the imminent collision, and shouted, "CASSIE!"

She glanced up at her mother for a moment, then turned back to watch the car, waiting, waiting...

Just before impact she pressed the button.

For a fraction of a second, it felt like she was turning inside out. Her stomach churned, her head ached like her brain was trying to escape, and the pressure in her ears skyrocketed. She would've screamed in agony, but the moment she opened her mouth it stopped, and she collapsed on the ground, ears ringing, head spinning, trying not to lose her lunch.

"Hey," said a familiar voice, though not her mother. No, this was a voice she felt she heard more often than even her mother's voice. But who could she know better than that? "When you come 'round, please tell me, 'cause I have a schedule to keep. Not even supposed to be this far back." The voice, belonging to a teenage girl, mumbled the last bit.

"Whuhh?" Everything was a blur. She couldn't think.

"Man, I know that my first trip was bad, but I don't remember it being this bad. If this takes any longer, I'm going. Supes is going to wonder where I am."

She shook herself awake, and jolted into an upright sitting position. She was ready for her mission. Sort of. She was still bleary-eyed, but she could deal. "Where um I?" she blubbered.

"Ah! Finally!" said the teen. "You've done great work so far. Couldn't have done better, myself. Now, you know why you're here?"

She nodded.

"You know this is dangerous? You know that it's not guaranteed to work? Do you recognize the importance of this mission?"

She nodded again, her vision clearing up. She was sitting dumbly on the floor of an empty concrete room, the walls painted purple for some reason. "Why am I in this room?"

"Don't ask me that!" the teen replied. "It's your machine! You appeared in this room, like you were supposed to. Do you know that this mission will be long? That it may take years to complete?"

"Yeah," she said. She was looking at a teen of an age she was uncertain; she could have been anywhere from eighteen to twenty-five. Her extremely short brown hair reminded her of the color of her own. And this teen had brown eyes so deep they were almost black, just like she did. And the freckles? Coincidentally, they both had those, too. This teen had an all-knowing twinkle in her eye, and a friendly smirk -- if smirks could be friendly. She looked really strong and stood sturdily, like a rock in place. She wouldn't to mess with this girl over anything.

"What's your name?" asked the teen. She watched the girl like she already knew the answer, and just wanted to see what she said.

"Ca-" the girl started, then stopped. Cassie was dead, gone with the car accident. She was a new person, and she needed a new name to match that. She stood there for a moment, trying to think up a new one.

The teen almost laughed. "Take your time. If it's a challenge or something, let me know."

"No, it's just... Rose. My name's Rose," said the girl.

The teen grinned. "Great name, Rose. I happen to like it a lot, myself. Nice to meet you." She stuck out a hand, a gesture Rose always dreaded. She didn't really know why; it just wasn't something she did often, and she supposed she was scared of getting it wrong. But she shook anyway. The teen took it gracefully, warmly, and without criticism.

"So," said the teen, "you ready to save the world? 'Cause I'm ready!"

"Sure, I guess," said Rose. Which was a lot of enthusiasm. She wasn't very outwardly emotive.

"Don't worry, you'll get more confident. And I know that if you just keep trekking on, even if you don't believe in yourself, you'll make it. Just keep going. Here are the coordinates." She handed Rose a piece of paper, punctuating her strange psychic comment with something real and explainable.

"Okay," said Rose. "Wait, how do you know all this? Who are you?"

"That," said the teen, "is something that you will find out on your own, young padiwan. Oh, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to use that kind of reference! Nobody around here knows about anything cool; it's so boring. But I know you can deal. Point being: I have to go now. I've been here too long already."

"What?!" Rose shouted. "You're just gonna leave me here?"

"That's what my mentor did," said the teen. "So I'mma do it, too. If I didn't everything would go all screwy, anyway."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Spoilers," said the teen. "Yes! Another one! Woo! Feels so good!"

"Another what?" asked Rose.

"Reference! Didn't you get the -- with the spoilers -- and the -- Oh, whatever. Oh, by the way: that clever code of yours, using middle names and all that? I think you better start changing that. Keep Rose; I like it a lot. But, man, you better keep a low profile, and if you have to use passwords or anything, make up new ones. Be safe. Do what the nice fisherman says. And bring that guitar home by 10:47 or all heck's gonna break loose."

"Wha--"

"It will all make sense one day. Trust me on this. Now, I gotta go for real. Live Long and Prosper." She keyed in some numbers on the band she was wearing around her wrist. "Man," the teen said. "I'll miss talking to you. I wish--"

And then she was gone, leaving Rose standing in an empty purple room.





Hey!! So the 19th was my birthday-- happy birthday to me! :) :)

Seriously, though, how do you like this background? Doesn't really fit into where the story is right now, but it kind of does at the same time... Hey, I get to do what I want on my birthday.

It's been a while since I've written an update, and to be honest, there's not much to say. I've been inconsistent with my writing. I feel like I keep repeating myself in these "Updates" so that's why I stopped writing them, really.

Also I got another sinus infection, but you don't want to hear about that. I'm almost completely better now, anyway. Hence the writing.

That's really all for now. See you in the next post.

                    ~PolarFarina



(References were to Star Wars, Doctor Who [Twice, if you catch it], and Star Trek. They don't belong to me. So there.)