I was sitting on my throne impatient with one of my troll helpers when a terrified looking troll walked in.
He bowed and stared at me looking very nervous.
“Well?” I growled. I was getting hungry and I was half tempted to gobble him up if he didn’t tell me why he was here. It was very rude to show up in my throne room without an invitation.
“Um, sir, the troll who was keeping an eye on Cassandra the unicorn, the one with the golden horn . . .”
“Yes?” I said. This couldn’t be good.
“Well, she has been accidentally sent to earth with the unicorn Cornelia from an earth flower. Now, well, the only way to reach her is to gather up more trolls and send them to earth by teleporting magic. And you know how trolls or unicorns can’t teleport anywhere without magic dust from a pixie . . .”
I roared. There was no way that I could get near a pixie to get magic dust. Pixies only like girls unless it’s a boy pixie. Now I needed to take control of a unicorn and that meant more work for me! I either had to get a troll to do it or I had to do it myself! Unless . . .
“Tell Gorgina I would like to see her,” I said to the scared looking troll. Gorgina, my wife and queen of Giants, was in a separate throne room giving orders to the girl trolls and elves. I was giving orders to the boy trolls or elves.
“Yes, sir!” said the troll, bowing out of the room and scuttling off.
I settled back into my seat smiling a little. Cassandra and Cornelia wouldn’t stand a chance. Not with me around. I closed my eyes for a little nap while I waited. Those trolls were so slow . . .
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Part 3 of My Story
I am a 17-year-old homeschooler, author, daydreamer, voracious reader, introvert, feminist, klutz, fangirl, and overuser of tape. I love the impossible (which might explain my obsessions with fantasy novels and Harry Potter) but I dip into the real world . . . occasionally. I tend to get overly emotional over my OTPs and eat sushi or listen to Taylor Swift to soothe the pain. If all else fails, reruns of “Doctor Who” or “Supernatural” is sure to help. I’m a big fan of mismatched socks, Cheez-Its, and bittersweet endings. I believe anything Rainbow Rowell, Felicia Day, or Lin-Manuel Miranda touches turns to gold. If you want to win the way to my heart, help me adopt a baby elephant. Or a llama. Or both. I write to survive and will often yell at my characters if they aren’t behaving, which is always. It doesn’t usually help. I am a contributor to the "Fauxpocalypse" anthology. You can follow me on Twitter at @Magic_Violinist.