The Monster in my Bag

My character decides to clean her room, and uses a bag she got from her dead grandmother to hold some of her bobbles. A monster comes from the bobbles and she embarks on an adventure to return home and save her grandmother's spirit. This is my first story, so I really hope you enjoy it! I love writing!

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3. A Slap Into Reality

Nana? No way. So, when Nana went on her ‘disappearing trip’ as Dad put it, she was here, telling all these, these things with red eyes that Aazhacka was evil? How did she know about this? How did she get here? I swallow and continue to look Aazhacka in the, well, umm, eye. ‘I should kill you now.’ He teases ‘But I have a mission for you. I want you to find out how your grandmother transported to my home from her home. I want you to find out how she knew about us. And I want you to find out why your pink bag in your room is a very easy transportation tunnel. No human has ever had a transportation tunnel item that is easy to navigate to my followers. And before you ask, no she can’t call like my followers. So, I am willing to bring you back home. You will get a month to find out these things and then, I will find you and I will use your heart to kill your grandmother. Your precious Nan won’t spill any secrets about her little expedition, but you don’t have a choice. Now, go.’

With that the ‘follower’ snapped into action. He quickly zapped his way towads me and before I knew it, my vision was blurry all over again. 

I woke up in my bed. It was morning and my first thought was ‘Oh my God, thank God that was only a dream’ until I saw a calendar pinned over my bed. It seemed to be electronic and on it, it read :

 

30 days left until return.

I gulped and felt wet tears brush over my cheeks. ‘This can’t be real,’ I sobbed ‘I don’t want to die!’ My bedroom door swung open and my mother popped her head inside. She immediately rushed over to me and grabbed me by the shouders. ‘Are you okay? Are you sick?’ she demanded, brushing aside a particylaryly wet tesr and pulling me into a hug. ‘Poor baby, what’s wrong?’

I sniffled and hiccupped lodly, as my mind was overwhelmed with the memoies of last night. ‘Even if I told you, you can’t do anything,’ I wept ‘They’ll still come.’ My mother’s face went white. ‘Who’ll come? No, of course I can stop whatever is bothering you, honey!’ she exclaimed. She lifted my head upwards so that I was looking at her directly in the eye. ‘Now, you tell me, who will still come?’ she necessitated. I looked at her sadly as my head analysed how I should start. ‘Okay,’ I replied. Well, really it was a ‘Ohm-Kayg’ because I had to hiccup in the middle of the word, but she got the picture.

‘Last night, something came out of Nana’s bobble bag and it brought me to this man who is in the sky. He said that, well, you know when Nana dissapered? Nana went to this world and she made all the followers, umm long black thingies with red eyes, kinda like No-Face from Spirited Away turn against him, so he got angry and killed Nana, but kept her spirirt and now he wants my heart to kill Nana’s spirit for real and he wants me to find out impossible things…’ I faded away as I saw the look of utmost horror on my mother’s face.

‘Please tell me you’re joking.’ She implored, and when I shook my head she clapped a hand to her mouth and pulled me close, closer than where I was. ‘Did someone come in to your bedroom and give you drugs or something?’ she probed. Her eyes were flitting around, a nervous habit she had and her mouth was trembeling. ‘No, no, look, someone didn’t give me drugs, I woke up and this came from the other world, I’m not sure if their place is on Earth, but, I have to get the information about Nana for them in a month.’ I explained gesturing towards the digital calander.

My mother stifled a scream when she saw the calendar. ‘Tell me the honest truth now, are you playing a prank because this is serious.’ She told me. ‘It’s not a prank!’ I replied my voice getting higher. ‘Mum, I’m going to die!’. She studied me before rubbing a hand over my forehead. Then she dug into her backpocket and pulled out her phone. Her English flag phone case cover bounced off my head as she threw it open and tapped into her dialpad. She immediately typed down 911 and held it to her ear. ‘Mum,’ I pleaded with her desperately ‘911 won’t do anything… Mum!’ she shooed me away, a distressed look on her face. ‘Aaagh, garda please.’ She said into her phone. Then she continued to look at me. ‘And the ambulance.’

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