The Randomizer

Twenty Five Followers Thingy

A/N: For 25 followers, I asked people if they wanted me to write a one-shot or something with their ideas. My prompt (or whatever I should call it), which I got from Craftsman011 (also the reason this is dedicated to them) is:

"A runaway girl finds a rich guy, and this guy is obsessed with fairy tale beings that the girl later realizes are real." 

(This is pretty bad, by the way, but I'm not motivated enough to edit, and I'm just going to leave it like this hear. A part of my history!)

I stare at the person dressed in a black cloak and hood across the table from me. The person who is pointing a knife at my face. 

"Shoot," I say coolly.

The other person brings the knife closer to my neck.

I glare at them, but stay put.

"Seriously?!" my brother exclaims, pulling down his hood. "You won't swear even in the face of death?"

Yes, my brother was trying to get me to swear. He's weird like that. He swears all the time, and when he realized I refuse to, he began trying to make me. He's never gone this far before, but I guess when you only get good consequences, you just go farther and farther down the road. It's been his hobby for three years, and I can proudly say I haven't sworn once out loud around him.

"That wasn't really 'in the face of death,'" I point out. "I knew it was you."

He looks annoyed. "Even with my awesome disguise?"

I give that no response except a snort and a skeptical look.

"Besides," he pipes up. "It could be 'in the face of death'. If I had gone farther."

"Do you really think Mother and Father would've been okay with that? And would you really have done that?"

"Mom and Dad wouldn't have believed you. I could just tell them that you hurt yourself, and they'd believe me because of how useless and stupid you are." Note how he ignored my second question. He doesn't have it in him to actually hurt someone.

Anger boiled up inside of me, making me clench my fists and glare at my brother - again. But other than that, I didn't release the anger. It would just get me into trouble, and honestly, he was right. Mother and Father didn't care about me. All they cared about was their oh-so precious baby boy, even though I worked harder and got better grades and almost never got in trouble. Except when my baby (he's not that small, but he acts like it) brother gets me in it for absolutely no reason.

'~'

I am sick of this family. Parents who don't care about me, a brother who thinks anything is 'fair game' - unless I do it. 

I am going to leave. Run away from this... this family of mine. Are they really my family, though? Sure, we might be tied by blood, but real family care for one other and help each other, no matter how deep down they've buried thier love.

I pack my few belongings into a small backpack, including a change of clothes and a blanket just in case. I glance sourly at my brother's side of the room, with his hundreds of things, comparing it to my section of the room, which is basically just a bed.

As I pass by the kitchen, I grab some food and water. No telling how long I'll be on my own. 

Throughout this daring adventure, my family is at a party. Doing... Party things. Of course, I wasn't invited. I'm not sure anyone really knows that I'm part of the family.

When I step out of the doorframe, I breathe a sigh of relief. I am free.

~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~

It's been a week since I ran away. I don't regret running, but I do regret not bringing enough money with me. My allowance had been two dollars a month, while my brother's was (well, is) five a week. Though I had been saving up for four years. (So I actually have quite a bit, but when you're in this vast world on your own...)

I've been able to refill my water bottles at public fountains, thank goodness. But I'm running low on food. Very soon, maybe even today or tomorrow, I'll be out.

Meaning, I need to go shopping.

'~'

I scowl as I look at the price tag. Everything feels much more expensive when I have to make sure I can eat with the little money I have. Every single price I had looked at felt like too much, when before, I would've thought those were perfectly reasonable prices.

I have to find someone who lets twelve year olds do work for them.

In the end, I get mostly fruits and vegetables, as well as things most would consider snacks (the cheap ones). I don't use all of my money, since food goes bad and just-in-case.

When I get to the cashier, the woman there looks at me strangely. 

"Where are your parents?" she asks me.

I shift uncomfortably. "I'm running an errand for them," I lie.

She nods, but doesn't look convinced. Still, she lets me pay and I put the food in my backpack.

As I'm walking out the store, immersed in my thoughts, I knock into someone. 

I jump back in surprise "Oh! Sorry!" I exclaim.

The other person is an adult, a  man, probably forty to fifty years old. Based on his clothing, he's rich.

He simply glances at me. "Hello. What's your name?"

I look at him in confusion. "Abby," I say slowly. "And you?"

"Julian." He peers at the air next to me. "Those of misfortune surround you."

"What?"

"And the good constantly fight the evil."

"Again, what are you talking about?"

He begins to open his mouth, and then winces. 

At around the same time, I feel a great wave of sudden pain crash over me, and I stumble.

"They're attacking," Julian whispers.

"What in the world are you - OW!" Another wave of pain that feels like someone is bonking me on the head. White spots begin to fill my vision.

What is happening? I think.

Another wave, another stumble. I'm on the ground at this point, simply working on breathing. 

The white spots get bigger and bigger as the waves get stronger and stronger. I'm in the middle of the ocean, trying to sail a boat as wave after wave pounds at it.

My vision is full of white. And for a moment, I see everything clearly. I see those Julian talked about, circling around every person in sight.

I see the ones around me. I recognize them - somehow - as the ones of misfortune, the ones of good, the ones of evil. 

I see that some sort of fairy of light is what lets Julian see all of them. 

I see the good fight the evil. Two fae seem to be shouting at each other.

One of them is why my vision is filled with white.

The bright one turns toward me, sensing I've seen it, and glares at me  but with a small, satisfied smile. Knowing I'm suffering because of its magic.

The other one - one of good and darkness - shouts one more thing at Bright, and then rushes over to  and puts its hand on my forehead. As Dark begins to whisper an incantation over me, the cold, unfriendly bright white overtakes me, and I am knocked unconscious.

A/N: For those who were wondering, this tale is 1093 words long, without the A/N.

Thank you everyone for 25 followers (what this one-shot was for), and thank you Craftsman011 for the prompt!