Chapter One: Provided We’d Fall Into Another World

It started off as a normal day, like most days do. Occasionally there's that one day when you wake up and everything’s bonkers, but this was not one of those days. To be more accurate, I should say it was not one of those days to begin with. Most crazy days hide their true identity until they step out of the shadows and slap you right in the face. On the rare occasion, they present themselves at your waking. Usually, they wait for the right moment to pounce and turn your world upside-down. Today ended up being one of those seemingly normal but truly crazy days.

Most stories start at the beginning, so if you like that, I’m sorry to disappoint you. This story doesn’t start at the beginning, as you can tell, but merely in the middle or at the end. The location of this, being the middle or the end, depends on whether I can get myself out of this sticky spot before the story ends or not. I most likely won’t, so this should actually be at the end. We’ll see how it works out. Before I recap the events of my extremely odd day, I should tell you a bit about myself. I am a teen girl with red hair dyed blue, grass green eyes, and a lonerish personality. I don’t need to know who you are, and presuming you have no questions, I can start at the beginning, or what will pass as the beginning. You don’t need to know my name, but if you must, it’s Ruby.

I woke up to the sound of my alarm ringing loud, clear, and annoying. It prevailed in my mind over the also-deafening sound of crowds cheering. I rolled over and socked it right on the display panel. I rolled back over and buried my face in my pillow.

“Five more minutes,” I muttered. I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to drift back over me. A tide of black swept through my mind before retreating at the coming light.  I couldn't halt my re-opening eyelids. I groaned and blearily rubbed my eyes. The time was 8:30. I was going to try to sleep in again and would have, had a sickly sweet voice not drifted up from downstairs.

“Time for breakfast,” my mom called. I rolled off my bed and landed hard on the floor. I yanked the sheets up to the pillow and shrugged of my summer pajamas. I pulled on a faded green t-shirt and red athletic shorts. Meandering into the bathroom, I brushed my hair as slowly as I could to delay the inevitable. I turned on the faucet and let water drip into my hand. I sighed sadly and twisted the faucet off. Another boring and completely ordinary day. If only I knew how wrong I would be. I dragged my feet as I wandered down the steps. Must...sleep...NOW! I ignored that voice, for now I was hungry. I picked up my pace and rode the banister down to the floor. I strolled into the kitchen and stared in shock. An array of delicious-smelling(and most likely tasting) food lay out in front of me. My mom noticed my shock and smiled.

“I thought I’d do something different today,” she said in her smooth honey voice. She cracked a smile. I opened my mouth and gawked.

“Why?” I asked. She smiled wider.

“It’s an important day today,” she replied. I hesitantly sat down at the table on a squishy and metallic blue chair. I picked up a fork and set it down. Then, I picked up my plate and started towering food on it: large stacks of pancakes and waffles, a few bald cupcakes(“you can’t eat cake for breakfast. Have this bald cupcake instead!”) and some fruit. I caught out of the corner of my eye that mom was pouring glasses of some orange liquid. One cup was full and the other was getting filled.

“What’s this?” I tentatively asked.

“It’s orange juice,” she said. Mom’s phone rung and she pulled it out of her pocket. She swiped her finger across the little screen to accept the call, then started talking in a low voice. It was hard to catch the words, but I made do.

“Has it been done?” A low voice spoke on the other end.

“Not quite. It will be, though. Trust me,” my mom replied.

“Make sure of it,” the other spoke.

“Shall do,” mom whispered, “bye.” She hung up and walked over to me, accidentally tipping over a bottle in the process. In slow motion, the bottle fell to the floor and shattered, with its contents spilling everywhere.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” I heard her whisper. She was clearly mortified. The clear-rainbow liquid oozed its way across the floor and gathered in a puddle. I was watching its procession when I heard another crash. I whirled around and saw another bottle had fallen to the ground. This one was, I mean used to be full of, an angry black liquid that squirmed with fire and heat. It raced annoyed across the floor to catch and punish the previous. The two liquids melded together and burst into flames.

“I’ll put it out,” Mom said as she grabbed a cup of what looked like water. She flung the water onto the fire and the flames hissed and grew higher.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Are you thirsty?” She asked, avoiding the question. Now that I thought about it, I was thirsty. I picked up my glass of orange juice and drained the cup in one sip. I stopped and stared at the pile of flames. Mom was throwing some sort of crystal at it and it changed color. The red, orange, and yellow flames turned a bluish color and started swirling in a large oval shape, with the longer part standing vertical.

“Whoa,” I gasped. My jaw slackened.

“What is it?” My mom asked, clearly unaware of the properties and characteristics  of the object.

“It’s a portal,” I whispered, “Want to go through?”

“Yeah. You go first,” My mom replied. I cautiously stepped in front of the portal and watched as it extended to form a tunnel with swirling blue walls. I took a step forwards and heard my mom say something.
“I’m sorry, Ruby,” she said gravely.

“For what?” I questioned.

“For this!” She cried, shoving me forward. I was helpless against the might of the portal and watched as it closed behind me, leaving my mom in the kitchen. Alone.