“Oof!” I landed on some grass. What had happened? All I did was poke that flower with my hoof.
“Ouch!” Cornelia had landed next to me. She whimpered in pain. I stood up and walked over.
She had a little bruise. Nothing big. She stood up and looked at me, a little annoyed.
“What’d I do?” I asked. “All I did was touch that flower and now we’re in some other place in Fantasya, or something.”
“Or something,” Cornelia said. “That was an earth flower! It sent us to earth!” She told me all about the earth flower and the magic rock.
“Whoa,” I said. “So, this is Earth?” I looked around. There were things that I had heard about in legends passed down from unicorns that had claimed they had been to Earth. There were cars, and supermarkets, and humans walking down something called a sidewalk.
“Yup,” said Cornelia. “Now what?”
I looked around at all the humans walking with their kids. It must’ve been summer here too. The kids weren’t in human school.
“I think we had better disguise ourselves as humans and start our search for the magic rock.” We both used disguising magic. I disguised myself as a tall, skinny, teenager that had light brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a something called a yellow tank top with blue shorts. I had heard Cornelia’s mom say something about the human clothes here.
Cornelia had disguised herself as a teenager too. She was tall and skinny, but her hair was red and her eyes were green. She had on a lime green skirt with a blue t-shirt. She looked very pretty.
“Let’s go,” she said. We walked down the street looking for a place with lots of rocks. According to Cornelia, the magic rock was boulder sized so we didn’t have to look very hard.
We were walking for a while in silence. I could tell that Cornelia was annoyed with me. Just then, there was a rustle through the hedges that we were passing. We both froze. We turned our heads slowly.
Five kids about the age of 12 jumped out through the bushes.
There were three girls that looked exactly the same. They all had long, straight red hair with blue eyes. Then the boys had the same straight, short black hair with the same dark, brown eyes.
They started doing a little jig right in the middle of the sidewalk.
They stopped dancing and said at the same time,
“Okay,” I said. “This is weird.”
“We’re not weird!” said Mary.
“Maybe we are!” said Carrie.
“I don’t smell weird,” said Terrie.
“Do you?” said Larry.
“No,” said Gary.
“We’re not weird!” they all said at once.
“Cassie,” said Cornelia.
I ignored her. She was just nervous because they kept acting weird.
“Do you know where we are?” I asked. Maybe even if they acted weird we could get some answers as to where we were.
“Sanfransico of course!” said Mary.
“In California!” said Carrie.
“In the USA!” said Terrie.
“Which is located in the world!” said Larry.
“Which is located in space!” said Gary.
“Cassie,” said Cornelia again. “Can’t you smell them?”
I hadn’t really paid much attention to the smell. I just paid attention to the dancing and the weird answers.
“Eww!” I said covering my nose.
“Trolls!” I whispered.
“In disguise!” said Cornelia.
“Run?” I said.
“Definitely!” answered Cornelia.
We turned and ran in the opposite direction. The trolls came after us. The trolls weren’t that smart, but they weren’t that slow disguised as humans. It’s a good thing that disguises didn’t change their intelligence.
“Corny!” I said as we ran past passerby staring at us.
“What?” she hissed.
“Let climb up that tree ahead.”
“Trust me on this one!”
We ran for the tree and climbed up as fast as we could. The trolls obviously didn’t notice and ran right by.
Cornelia looked at me with a surprised look.
“Weirdoes,” I said. We both laughed.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Part 4 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.