Falling Through

River spent most of her time in her room, crying and bawling over Jem's death. After a few weeks without any change in her mood, her parents had taken her to a therapist. Nobody else knows what happens in the therapist's office but her. She took pills for her depression and anxiety. Nobody else had these problems. Why her?
Well, here's a small description about her: She has lilac colored hair (originally blond), her eyes are silver-gold, she has freckles on cheeks and nose, and she's pretty tall. She's also irish, but lives in England with her rich parents.


1. Chapter 1

I shuffled into the kitchen, and open the cabinet above the microwave. Pill bottles filled the space. I picked out the 4 pill bottles with my name on them. 1 for anxiety, 1 for depression, 1 for my kleptomania, and 1 for my ADHD. Mum and Dad won't be back till late tonight. I look over at the fridge. Should I eat today? I look at the pictures on the fridge door. In the middle of the fridge is a picture of me and my friends, Jem and Anna, in the third grade, hugging and all of us holding a trophy from the writing competition we had all won. Tears stung the back of my eyes. Anna was with a different crowd now, the populars. And Jem, well, you could say Jem is in the grave. Literally. He died about 6 weeks ago, from being shot. I still remember when we were 12, Jem, Anna, and I all went into Jem's basement and looked at his dad's guns. I remember my lilac hair, Jem's pale blond hair, and Anna's black hair.

I sniffle as I swallow two pills at a time. I shut the cupboard and walk back upstairs. I had quit school about a week after Jem's death, just because I couldn't concentrate without thinking about Jem and crying every 4 minutes. I sunk into my soft pink comforter. I looked around my room. It was a mess, just like my life. Dozens of pictures hung from my cork board. Magazines littered my floor, along with clothes. CD's were thrown about by my television. My white fur rug had hair ties littered about it, and my makeup was strewn across my vanity table. I looked at my mirror. My hair was a purple tangled rat's nest, and black bags hung under my eyes. I sighed as I picked up my brush and ran it through my hair. My hair felt greasy under my fingers. I'd have to take a shower. I walked into my bathroom (yes, connected to my bedroom of course) and turned on the shower. My parents were rich, and wanted me to graduate, but I denied. I'd make it somewhere. Maybe a cashier at some washed up gas station in New Jersey. It could be worse. I could be a pregnant teenager alone in Taiwan. I stepped into the shower and let the hot water burn my skin. I scrubbed my scalp with my fingernails as I lathered the shampoo and conditioner in my hair. My mind wondered back to Jem. Is there life after death? If there is, is he happy? Or is it just an unpenetrable darkness, just sitting there, empty and alone.

Tap tap tap.

I whirl around and peek out of the shower curtain. Nothing moved. Probably just my imagination. 

Tap tap tap tap tap tap.

I peek back around the curtain. It had started to drizzle outside. What was wrong with me? I turned back to my shower, and once again the tapping began, but faster and more taps. I turned off the shower and reached for a towel. As I wrapped it around my dripping body, I walked over to the window and peered out. The trees swayed in the wind, and rain drizzled down. Was I going absolutely crazy? I walked back into my room and into my closet, picking out my underwear, gray sweatpants, and a black t-shirt. The tapping began once again, but in my bedroom window rather than my bathroom window. I drop my clothes in frustration and stalk up to my window. I pull it open as fast as hard as I can and yell.

"IF THIS IS SOME KIND OF CRUEL JOKE, IT'S NOT FUNNY!" I scream, my Irish accent strong, as I slam the window shut, not even bothering to lock it. I walk back into my closet and pick up my clothes. I hear my window sliding open. I ignore it, thinking I'm hallucinating. My closet door opens. I know it's real this time. I look over as someone hurtles into me and knocks me off my feet. I feel my towel unwrap from my body. I claw at the force that knocked me down, and hear a groan as I claw at raw skin. I grab for my towel as the figure drops away from me, and notice two other figures standing in my closet doorway. Oh my god! I stand up and scream as one of the figures rushes at me and covers my mouth.

"Be. Quiet." a smooth American male voice whispers in my ear. I try to wriggle away from him, but his grip just tightens. The figure that had tackled me stands up and closes the closet doors. My eyes widen, and a scream gets caught in my throat. Am I getting raped? I wriggle and twist as the figures grasp tightens once again. I finally make up my mind and bite down as hard as I can onto his hand as the second figure turns out my closet lights and we all hear the scream of the figures voice. I duck under him and crash into the wall, hiding behind the wall of hanging clothes.

"Kris! She bit me!" I hear the male voice say.

"Be quiet Michael. They'll hear us." A voice says, who i'm guessing is Kris. He has a strong English accent. 

"Michael, Kris, be quiet. Both of you. We need to find her and shut her up." another voice says, his Swedish accent thick.

I choke back a small sob. What are they going to do to me? I crawl against the wall, one hand holding my towel up. Suddenly I feel wind rushing on my cold body as my towel rips away from me and I hear hangers clanking. I look up as the lights come on and cover my body. This. Is. Not. Happening. 

"Well, well, well. Look what I found." the American voice says. I glare up at him. He holds my towel in his hand. He towers above me.

"Michael, give her her towel." The Swedish voice orders. I feel the towel thrown onto my body, and I pull it tight around me. A hand appears. I look up to see the American boy offering me his hand. I push it away and stand up. He just grunts. I scowl at the rest of them in the room. All of them have seen my naked body in one night. One of them, the English one, laughs as I glare at all of them.

"Sorry for the confusion, mate." says as he chuckles. I just scowl even more. He just laughs more, his brown eyes sparkling. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing in my house?" I demand.

"Technectly, it's your parent's house. But that's not the point. We're here to bring you back." The American says.

"What do you mean "bring me back"?"

"Well, bring you back to Borun."

"Where the hell is that? Japan?" I ask.

"No, it's a country. In between Russia and Finland. Kind of like in the book 'the mortal instruments', but a lot bigger and real. Some human just knew about us, and wrote a story about us, just twisted the truth. A lot." The American said.

"So what? Am I just supposed to follow you and leave my parents and skip the therapist sessions!?" 

"Well, your parents knew this would happen one day. They just kept it a secret. And, well, we know you don't really care about the therapist. We all know what he does to you." The American says as he smirks."Naughty things."

I just glare at him. He laughs back, to my suprise.

"Well, if you can't come willingly, we will carry you there." The Swedish one answers. "Get dressed." He says as he and the others leave trashed closet. 

"Oh, and, princess, wear something you can run in. Definitely not heels." The American says as he shuts the door.

Tears sting my eyes as I get dressed. Jem, help me. Some people are here and I don't know what to do? Can you hear me, Jem? 

I step out of the closet as the Swedish boy peers into my bathroom, and the American closes my nightstand drawer. 
"Don't go through my stuff." I say as I close my closet door.

"Just checking." he answers.

"So, what were you guys hiding me from earlier? I mean, you had said 'They'll hear us'. Whos 'they'?" 

"'They' is the shadows. The dark beings, the hell children, or what you humans call them, demons." The Swedish one says.

"Why do you keep saying 'you humans'? Your human." I say as I cross my arms over my chest.

"Not exactly," the English one says,"we're actually only part human. We're half angels, you see. We have much better stamina, and strength, and we're a lot smarter than regular humans."

"So you're like, iron man?" I ask.

"Yes, but without the iron suit. It's like the iron suit is our body." The American says.

"So why are you here talking to me? Shouldn't you be somewhere across the world saving a damsel in distress?" I ask sarcastically.

"We are. You're the damsel in distress." The English one says. I scowl at him as he laughs.

"Well, what exactly are you saving me from. Other perverts?" I say as I glare at them all.

"Well, we needed to attract your attention some how." The Swedish one says.

"So you watch me in the shower and then my bedroom? You guys are all crazy!" I say as I swing my bedroom door open and walk out into the clean hallway. The Swedish one follows me. 

"No, we didn't expect you to be in the shower." he says as he glares over at the American one. "And, only one of us is a perv." he says as he nods towards the American.

"Hey, that is not true!" He says as he walks towards us, the English one following him. 

The Swedish one turns back to me.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks.

"Um, let me think. NO! I can't just leave my parents while they're away. And I'm not going to leave this house with a bunch of random strangers!" I say throwing my hands up.

"Well, you mean volunteerily." The American says as he notions to the Swedish one and he picks me up, draping me over his back.

"PUT ME DOWN!" I say as I claw into his thick black clothes. I claw until my fingers are numb and a little bloody. He's just laughing.

"You can't penetrate my gear like that. Its about an inch thick."

I grumble. He finally sets me down.

"Now go pack."

"What?" I ask as I steady myself.

"Go. Pack. So. We. Can. Leave...Now!" He says, shooing me and everybody else back into my bedroom. He picks up my old book bag and dumps the contents onto my rug. He hands me my crumpled bag and notions towards my closet.

I grumble as I step through and start packing random sweatshirts, leggings, boots and tennis shoes. What was Mum and Dad going to think when they came home and saw my room a mess and nobody here? Without thinking, I walk over to a shelf with old boxes and pull out a small little pink chest with flowers and birds carved all over it. I open it and take a peek inside. A diamond necklace and matching earrings, a wad of cash I knew added up to almost a thousand dollars, and small stack of pictures, a small brush, and a seashell from our summer vacation house. I set them on the bottom of my bag, and zip it up. I step out of the closet, pulling my hoodie over my head. The Swedish one nods, and the American and English ones jump straight out of the open window. 

"Are we seriously jumping out of a 3 story high up window into the rain?" I ask.

"Yes, or do you need help, princess?" The Swedish one asks as he stares at me with blue eyes. I shake my head as I peek over the window. I take a deep breath, and jump.

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