So, the first day of middle school, and I was evaporating.
Yeah, evaporating. You heard me right. You don't need to worry about going crazy. The only one in serious peril right now us me.
It had started out pretty normally, actually. As I said above, it was the first day of seventh grade, which -according to the school board of Desperado, Missouri- was the first day of middle school. I had just moved last year, and I kept thinking of my friends back in Minneapolis, who had started middle school last year.
I guess I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice that where my left foot should have been, there was light. Just light, as if someone had gotten a gun that shot sunbeams and aimed it at my foot. I stumbled backwards, loosing my footing (which was easy to do when you only had one foot) and bumped into Liz Calloway, my best friend in Desperado. "'Az?" She knelt down beside me. "Are- are you okay? What happened?" I was too freaked out to tell the truth, plus Liz doesn't believe anything anyone says. "No- no, nothing, Liz. I'm fine." I muttered, and stumbled away, hiding-or trying to hide- my sunbeam foot. I looked down. Big mistake.
My legs were spotted with holes of light, growing bigger every second. So were my hands, and my arms, and my feet were gone, completely gone. I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut. Please, let this be a dream, I thought, and when I opened my eyes, my world was light, and I was flying, at least I thought I was, speeding through my light world.
I don't remover falling asleep, but I did, apparently, because I woke up in a room, dimly lit, gagged and bound. There was someone else in the room, moving, also gagged and bound like me. They turned around, and I could see their face. I knew that face. I had known that face for six years. I gasped, and mumbled around my gag, "Travis!"
Chapter 2 I couldn't believe my eyes. Travis Juniper, my old classmate (and total oddball) was right here, in the same seemingly magical and dangerous situation as me. I couldn't help but think, Why him? Travis is nice, popular, and funny, but when I dreamed of being whisked off on some adventure, it was either with the guy of my dreams, or my best friend. Of course, that was before I moved. Now it's just school, school, and more school.
But! That is waaaay off topic. Back to reality: Travis drew in a sharp breath when he heard me. He wiggled his gag off so it hung around his neck. I did the same. "Azzy? Azzy Gull? What are- what are- gosh, what's going on?" He sounded panicked, which was not a shock, considering the circumstances. I shook my head. "I don't know. Did you, ah, evaporate too?" Travis nodded. "I looked down and my feet were gone!" Okay, this is better. We're in the same boat. "Travis, how long have you been here?" Travis shrugged. "It's hard to say. Probably an hour, maybe more." He sighed and slumped down.
I bit my lip. "We need to get out of here." I stated, then winced. I half expected him to say, "No dur, we should stay here." Fortunately, he didn't. "But where is 'here'?" Travis asked, peering around. I did too. The light was faint, but I could tell that we were in a small room. There were crates all around us. I didn't see a door anywhere. "Travis, let's look in those crates," I suggested.
Then, I realized we were still tied up. I huffed and Travis groaned. "Dang it!" Well, he is a farmer, but still, I winced. What would be next? "Dag nab it"s?
I thought for a while, slowly smiled. I had heard of this technic before, and it always worked. Then again, the people using the technics were not me, so I hoped for the best. "Travis, wiggle around so your ropes will slide down," I whispered, while stretching and moving around. I probably looked like I was having a seizure, but it worked. Once the ropes were off, I turned to Travis, who was having a little- no, a lot- trouble with his bindings. I crawled over to him and untied his ropes. "Oh. Thanks, Azzy." He sounded a bit embarrassed. I hide grin. "No prob."
We scrambled up to the crates. There were about ten. I tried to pry one open. The result was eight splinters and one unhappy twelve-year-old. Travis tried next. "We open crates all the time on the farm," he whispered, while pulling it open. I rolled my eyes. Of course. The guy succeeds, and the girl just stands there. Phooey.
Travis and I peered inside the crate. Nothing. Nothing in the next one, or the next one, or any of them. I threw my head back. Travis exhaled disappointedly. I trudged to the nearest walk and slumped against it. There was nothing, no hope. And there were also no trays of food or cups of water. Uh-oh. My stomach grumbled, right on cue. I hadn't had breakfast. Great.
Travis grabbed a piece of wood and sat down in a dusty corner, then began to doodle. He was an exceptional artist, I remembered. Everyone would beg him to draw anything for them. I peered over his shoulder. He was drawing a hamburger. Understandable. But as soon as he finished, the picture disappeared And a real hamburger popped up. We gaped. I poked it just to be sure. Yep, that is an honest-to-goodness hamburger. Travis sketched a bird, and it popped up and flew around. We gasped at the same time.
We stared for a moment, then Travis looked down at his hands, like, "Omygosh! I can't believe I have hands!" He creased his forehead, and then shakes his head in disbelief. I don't believe it either at first, but then I start to accept it.
Yeah, evaporating. You heard me right. You don't need to worry about going crazy. The only one in serious peril right now us me.
It had started out pretty normally, actually. As I said above, it was the first day of seventh grade, which -according to the school board of Desperado, Missouri- was the first day of middle school. I had just moved last year, and I kept thinking of my friends back in Minneapolis, who had started middle school last year.
I guess I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice that where my left foot should have been, there was light. Just light, as if someone had gotten a gun that shot sunbeams and aimed it at my foot. I stumbled backwards, loosing my footing (which was easy to do when you only had one foot) and bumped into Liz Calloway, my best friend in Desperado. "'Az?" She knelt down beside me. "Are- are you okay? What happened?" I was too freaked out to tell the truth, plus Liz doesn't believe anything anyone says. "No- no, nothing, Liz. I'm fine." I muttered, and stumbled away, hiding-or trying to hide- my sunbeam foot. I looked down. Big mistake.
My legs were spotted with holes of light, growing bigger every second. So were my hands, and my arms, and my feet were gone, completely gone. I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut. Please, let this be a dream, I thought, and when I opened my eyes, my world was light, and I was flying, at least I thought I was, speeding through my light world.
I don't remover falling asleep, but I did, apparently, because I woke up in a room, dimly lit, gagged and bound. There was someone else in the room, moving, also gagged and bound like me. They turned around, and I could see their face. I knew that face. I had known that face for six years. I gasped, and mumbled around my gag, "Travis!"
Chapter 2
I couldn't believe my eyes. Travis Juniper, my old classmate (and total oddball) was right here, in the same seemingly magical and dangerous situation as me. I couldn't help but think, Why him? Travis is nice, popular, and funny, but when I dreamed of being whisked off on some adventure, it was either with the guy of my dreams, or my best friend. Of course, that was before I moved. Now it's just school, school, and more school.
But! That is waaaay off topic. Back to reality:
Travis drew in a sharp breath when he heard me. He wiggled his gag off so it hung around his neck. I did the same. "Azzy? Azzy Gull? What are- what are- gosh, what's going on?" He sounded panicked, which was not a shock, considering the circumstances. I shook my head. "I don't know. Did you, ah, evaporate too?" Travis nodded. "I looked down and my feet were gone!" Okay, this is better. We're in the same boat. "Travis, how long have you been here?" Travis shrugged. "It's hard to say. Probably an hour, maybe more." He sighed and slumped down.
I bit my lip. "We need to get out of here." I stated, then winced. I half expected him to say, "No dur, we should stay here." Fortunately, he didn't. "But where is 'here'?" Travis asked, peering around. I did too. The light was faint, but I could tell that we were in a small room. There were crates all around us. I didn't see a door anywhere. "Travis, let's look in those crates," I suggested.
Then, I realized we were still tied up. I huffed and Travis groaned. "Dang it!" Well, he is a farmer, but still, I winced. What would be next? "Dag nab it"s?
I thought for a while, slowly smiled. I had heard of this technic before, and it always worked. Then again, the people using the technics were not me, so I hoped for the best. "Travis, wiggle around so your ropes will slide down," I whispered, while stretching and moving around. I probably looked like I was having a seizure, but it worked. Once the ropes were off, I turned to Travis, who was having a little- no, a lot- trouble with his bindings. I crawled over to him and untied his ropes. "Oh. Thanks, Azzy." He sounded a bit embarrassed. I hide grin. "No prob."
We scrambled up to the crates. There were about ten. I tried to pry one open. The result was eight splinters and one unhappy twelve-year-old. Travis tried next. "We open crates all the time on the farm," he whispered, while pulling it open. I rolled my eyes. Of course. The guy succeeds, and the girl just stands there. Phooey.
Travis and I peered inside the crate. Nothing. Nothing in the next one, or the next one, or any of them. I threw my head back. Travis exhaled disappointedly. I trudged to the nearest walk and slumped against it. There was nothing, no hope. And there were also no trays of food or cups of water. Uh-oh. My stomach grumbled, right on cue. I hadn't had breakfast. Great.
Travis grabbed a piece of wood and sat down in a dusty corner, then began to doodle. He was an exceptional artist, I remembered. Everyone would beg him to draw anything for them. I peered over his shoulder. He was drawing a hamburger. Understandable. But as soon as he finished, the picture disappeared And a real hamburger popped up. We gaped. I poked it just to be sure. Yep, that is an honest-to-goodness hamburger. Travis sketched a bird, and it popped up and flew around. We gasped at the same time.
We stared for a moment, then Travis looked down at his hands, like, "Omygosh! I can't believe I have hands!" He creased his forehead, and then shakes his head in disbelief. I don't believe it either at first, but then I start to accept it.
Travis is magic.