Under-World (UNDER-CONSTRUCTION)

So,hi,I'm Crest,and I've been assigned to tell you about this story(my creator is crazy). So,I suppose I can start with Echo. She's this other-wordly ,blank faced girl who likes to stare at me because I'm handsome. *Echo pulls his ear* Ow! Anyway.. she's from a different world than the modern one I live in. And one day,I find her naked lying on the floor of my old secret hangout spot. Then awesome stuff happens that leads to migraines and our bonding and something happens *wiggles eyebrow* then another thing happens and we try to take down the goverment of the Under-World. This is not your usual Dystopian, I can assure you that. WARNING: BEAUTIFULLY DESCRIBED NAKED SCENES AHEAD (but don't worry,there are no sexual interactions,yet) Gorgeous cover made by me (I have no shame)

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8. Her.

"Mr. Jackson,you may sleep now.Go ahead,enter your land of daydreams." My English Lit. teacher announces. Though, I'm sure she said something more on the lines of "Now class, turn to page 38.Today we shall be discussing the 3rd chapter of 'Poems through Paragraphs'."Oh well,not complaining.I'm gonna follow that order whether issued or not.

The next thing I know,I was giving darkness a long and intimate hug,we felt our hearts beat as one that it felt like time had not passed at all. I was reluctant to let go,but some cat screech was drastically pulling me away from it.

"Mr. Jackson!!"

I shot up from my seat.

Miss Buprack,tall,weedy,skinny and old (not too old,may-be a few years older than my mother if she were still alive). Now,her hair frizzed,wrinkles crashing-in,lips-tight-straight,skin-reddish purple. She was mad,I wonder how long has she been cat screeching.I smiled at her,eyes still droopy,vision still blurred and stinging(I should not have slept an hour before my alarm went off,at least that's what I tell myself everyday.).

"Yes,ma'am!" I slurred,left hand floating up towards my head.

"I have had enough of you!" Her hand shot up and pulled at my ear,or so she says and does this everyday. "Everyday I put up with your act (classmates snickering now.) of total disrespect towards me and this class!" She continues.

"But Miss, I was sleeping.Unlike the rest of your class who were on their constantly ringing/buzzing phones,or some who are talking.or some who are fantasizing and saying things out loud to themselves or some who are doing other homework mumbling to themselves or some who are-"

All through the time I was selling out the other students,her face got redder and more purple.Eye-lids running away from eyeball making her eyes look like a fish's. It's like she was putting on a show just to escape some truth. People don't take the truth seriously,that's what we've become.

"PRINCIPLE'S OFFICE NO-" She screeched.

Then stopped.

Everything stopped.

Everyone turned to stare at her.

She had stopped time as well as stopped herself.Eyes freezed,big,round,fish,yet veins creeping up towards the pupil trying to make it bigger,rounder,fishier. Her mouth mid-shriek,open,showing off her yellow crooked madness,crocodile. Her wrinkles,angry,completely crashed.

Then she started shaking,and shaking, tornado hitting her and she's an earthquake.She fell to the floor,a natural disaster herself (pun) before she laid there still,eyes glazing over,her hands dropping to the ground,her muscles relaxing,releasing their final pull.

My hands form a gun, BANG! BANG!  

Dead.

I walked away as everyone rushed to her,taking pictures,some actually concerned.I walked out the classroom door,banging the rectangular hollow wood on the wall,not caring.

Dad's gonna be so mad later. Not like he's not mad ever. But this is serious,I'm not sure whether she's just unconscious or dead.Most likely the latter,but I'm trying to convince myself otherwise.

I never thought I was this bad.

I pushed an escape button and my legs became a rocket and flew past the atmosphere of education out into the empty sunlight streets.And still carried further and further away from my sins.

I find myself landing unto a bench in the park.Scratch that. Not the park,an abandoned park is much more accurate.

I honestly haven't even thought of this park for years,not since the dark colors seemed the brightest,others became to self-absorbed for me to spare some of mine,not since life was torn up and I was torn apart with it,not since I grew up.

I don't know what made people stop coming here but I have a big feeling it's to do with all the technology taking over,and maybe it's also because of those robot kidnappings. 

If I don't choose to ignore it and remember,this must be the park that homed those psychotic robots. From where I sat,for the first time in years, I let myself sling-shot back to the days when I was a kid and this park was my heaven. I imagined my tiny feet padding against the stone racing towards the swing.My mom and dad slowly walking,hand in hand behind me,letting their love flow through their connected hands. My dad used to push me on the swing gently but enough,enough to let me fly so I can release from the chain handles and into my mother loving arms. The sandbox was my kingdom too,not my kingdom but the kingdom I "lived in". It was ruled by this down-syndromed man named Ivan.Ivan was kind and nice to everyone,friendly and always shared the cookies he brought so us kids (3 of us to be exact) had no reason to argue. We battled against sand-hills while the adults gossiped among each other. Jayir,my best friend at the time (now "bad boy" of my school) would always be my "battle bro".We had our "fusions" and "special moves" that Ivan and the other kid,Mikah (now jock of my school) would let us finish the sand-hills off with.

I used to come to this park every evening,on school holidays-the whole day. And when the robots were installed,it's like a new toy to  play with. They were tall,as tall as the adults,blank faced with a horizontal black screen used for scanning and detecting,skinny-metal arms with pincers for picking up the trash. Us kids used to litter just for the fun of seeing the robot pick it up and we'd giggle and laugh for no apparent reason.There was one time when we collected as much trash from the streets and made a trash suit out of it.Mikah wore it and laid on the floor waiting for a robot to try an pick him. It passed right by him and us,making our giggling fits turn into explosive laughter.

Now what I'm staring at is a completely wrecked playground,metal rusted and melted from the acid the robots sprayed. The broken sandbox,empty,dead and sad at my feet. I abandon my 10 minute resting post and continue down the sad broken brick path until I find myself at the waterfall.

The waterfall was my secret place,the place where I went when my parents let me come to the park alone to play but my friends aren't around. I would dive into the water in my prepared swimming trunks and my clothes dry,lying out on a rock. I would dive to the bottom,and pick out the smoothest rocks and in an hour,I would be padding down towards the playground away from the waterfall hidden behind the tight triangle of trees.

It's still as magical as i remember,the water still somehow as supernaturally clear as I remember. 

But I don't remember anything about a naked red head lying on the pebbled pond floor.

She could be alive.

She looks alive.

She's really beautiful too.

I can't stop staring at her peaceful face.(ok,she might be dead)(even though she's naked too)

My hands moved unconsciously,removing my leather hoodied jacket and my black t-shirt,eyes still glued to the beautiful face.

I jumped into the water and it was as soothing as I remember,warm and clear.My hands reach out and grab hers.They're soft,smooth,like pearls you'll hold on to forever,not wanting to let go.

I swim up to the surface,pulling her along, 

I place her on the grass,

our lips touch

soft,so soft.

Air travels through my lungs into her,

again,

and again,

and again.

Then she gasps.

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