Meena called me five times. Left me a voice message for each one. She sounded worried and tired.
I stepped out of the living room and shook of my shock. "Hi Meena. I'm sorry I didn't respond or say anything before I left, but I'm okay!" I pause ready for her to scold me.
"I was so worried Daphne! I've been calling and calling - " Meena scolds just as I thought she would.
"Harry only took me to go to see some of Rio!" I kind of lied, but I didn't want her coming. It was just an instinct.
"Harry?? You barely just met him and now you two are running off together! And what about me?? I still exist!" I could imagine her face right now. Red and puffy around her tight, drawn lips.
I could also sense something else. What was it? Jealousy. Envy. "Ok well, I have to go - you called at an interesting time." I tell her shortly.
Meena pauses. "Where are you? I'm going to pick you up." Harry comes into the bedroom where I am, suddenly interested in my phone call.
"Meena I'm perfectly fine. Stop overreacting! You're being paranoid- go back to your annoying, bubbly personality. We're in the Amazon Forest if you really want to know. Goodbye." I hang up and let out a frustrated grunt.
"Meena sounded weird. I could hear her voice." Harry says. He stared off with a concerned look, until he snaps back into reality and grins at me.
"So can you tell me how I ended up here in Reality?" I ask. I really wanted to know why I was stuck here and not back with my grandmother. Or the Knotthegs. Or in Fantasy.
"Well, we broke the rules- remember? The hero and villain are enemies- not friends or smoochers. " He looks at me up and down, like I was the one who leaned in first.
It came back even more to me now. Our story. No, my story. I practiced it since I was little- but nobody ever said someone would have to be killed. Even if it was a wolf.
When I got older, my grandmother told me to take a bow in my basket that held her cookies. For protection.
The M.G.S hated the idea of Little Red protecting her self.
I then remember why I left to this world. Mother Goose had me on her kill-list.