The Fantastical World of Liddy LaSore

Liddy is not in her right mind. When her dreams start to become reality it is up to her to save both the fictional and non fictional world of her life.

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1. 1.

The festival was dying down, yelling and singing was void, and the dancing had stopped. The scent of meat and wine are in the air and take the hunger from my stomach. Bon fires are lighting the sky all over the town, with pops and sparks flying in every direction, surrounded by quiet folk songs and stories of old. Some of us head to The Hill; a place of silence, and serenity. The moon is rising high and the people are all sitting there, eyes closed, soaking up its rays. I’m there too and I can see all the people content with the world. I take a deep breath and as I calm myself down to a point of serenity, my eyes slowly drift down, sealing the door between my life and reality.

“Liddy? Liddy are you awake?” a voice screeches and I jerk my head up. The entire lecture is watching me, but my eyes are droopy and mind still in the world I envision in my dreams.

“Uh yeah. Just in deep thought Mrs. Peterson”, I say with a yawn trying to push its way to the surface.

“You better be Ms. LaSore. What are your thoughts then?”

I freeze. I discreetly look down at the paper that has collected a little drool and see that we had been talking about Alice and Wonderland, the book we had to read over break. “I think that….” I check for the author, “Lewis Carroll had the broad creativity to think of the unthinkable and I believe that he had to be at least a little crazy to think of all of this. In addition, the mysteries that lie within the pages are quite fascinating. Carroll has the different characters all have disorders that clearly are a major problem like the drug induced tea-partiers and the schizophrenic rabbit.”

“Very interesting Liddy. I definitely see where you are coming from.” She turns back to the class and proceeds to lecture on the book.

I turn to look at the nerdy boy sitting next to me, Samson. This kid is the stereotypical nerd; plaid shirt with the high-waist jeans and glasses that could pick up a radio signal. He has a slight smirk on his lips and I give him a stare that could curdle milk.

“What are you smirking at?” I ask him.

“Nothing” he replies, hiding the smirk painted on his face.

“Whatever. At least I am not afraid to speak.”

“You fell asleep and totally made up that entire speech, which you were totally wrong about.”

“Well sorry Mr. Sassy-pants. I didn’t know that I was bothering you!”

He laughs. “Maybe if you got sleep at night you would pay better attention in class and get better grades.”

“I get good grades!” I counter.

Mrs. Peterson comes around and places the last test we took on my desk and gives me a disapproving look. A big, red 71 is on the top and ‘Get signed!’ is written next to it.

“Yeah. Great grades,” says Samson.

The bell rings and I shove all my English stuff into my bag and huff off to 3rd period, my study hall. I hear the hallways sounds, filling my head but annoying me to the point which I want to rip out my hair. Why can’t I go back to bed? Someone taps me on the shoulder and breaks me out of the quiet realm which I forcefully created, and brought me back to the loud, obnoxious world.

I turn and see Samson standing behind me.

“Do you want to yell at me more? Because I think you have a chess club meeting to go to.”

He shrinks from his 6’2 stature, in what seems to be because he is scared and in a quiet tone says “I was going to apologize. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Oh. I did not expect that. His head is down, his shaggy, blonde hair hiding his eyes from my view. I put my hand on his shoulder, and his head lifts. “Hey, it’s okay I was wrong to, being that rude to you. Sometimes I don’t think before I say stuff.”

“Yeah I can tell.”

I give him a look and take my hand off his shoulder.

“Sorry. Apparently I can’t either.”

“Let’s call it even and get on with our lives. Sound good?”

“Yeah. Sounds good” he says with a small smile.

I smile back. “I’ll see ya, Samson.”

“Remember that we have a test in math today.” He turns and starts to walk away.

Shoot.  

“Hey Samson? I have a study hall then lunch. Do you mind studying with me? I’ll buy lunch?”

“Sure. I have a 100 in World so it won’t matter if I skip one day. Let me grab my books and meet you in the foyer.”

“Thank you! You are a life saver!”

 

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