Chosen: A Found Princess

Prologue

The Now.

My old English teacher told me to never start your story at the now. Always give a little background or people can’t keep up. It makes it so the person who is listening to your Story can form a picture in their mind of what it is you’re trying to tell. I always thought that was pretty smart. But what if there is no story that can form a background? What if my story started in the now? My story starts the moment I answer that door. Or at least that’s how I thought it started…

1

On My Own.

This is it. The turning point. Literally. Left or right? Left means back down to the dirt road to my parents’ house in the hills to sit in my old room and hide out for the next hundred or so years and wallow in self-pity. Or, turn the wheel to the right. Gradually making my way out onto the highway and go in search of a new life where I knew no one, better still no one knew me. Left was easy, right was harder. Well hell!! I said out loud to myself. I’ve packed the car with the few meagre possessions I have, and filled the tank. Shiiiiit! slamming my hands on the steering wheel I gave myself a kick in the behind and took a deep breath. I pulled the car to the right and thought to myself that I had done things the hard way for so long now best continue with what works.

I didn’t know where I was going but I was going. As my mother said when I would be dragged along shopping, my least favorite past time, Something will jump out at you Darling and you will love it. Well mum let’s hope that theory goes for towns and lives also…

Driving alone always gave me a sense of freedom. No one to tell me how to drive, or tell me which direction to go in. Just me and my iPod stuffed to the brim with tunes ready for me to belt out. Not a care in the world. But after four days of driving and only stopping for gas, and a quick sleep on the side of the road in the car, my voice was getting weaker and the need for a really long shower and a good sleep was taking over. I pulled into the next town and found The motel. Luckily it had a vacancy. In reality, I had no doubt that a place called The Motel would have plenty of vacant rooms. Rooms were basic. Bed, television, jug and shower. Nothing fancy and cheap. I didn’t really care at this point I just wanted a shower and bed. I wrapped the towel around me and stepped out of the shower. Sat on the side of the bed to find some night wear in my bag and that’s the last thing I remember… sleep took me.

I woke to a loud and what seemed to be an angry bang on the door. It took me a few moments to gather my senses… Oh that’s right I’m in a cheap motel somewhere off the highway… But which highway? I remember turning off to get to a town but it just dawned on me I had paid no attention to which town or for that matter, in which direction I had turned. (Bang bang bang)

Ok, ok I’m awake settle down I’m coming! Whoever this was they really wanted to speak to me. I’m sure it wasn’t check out time yet. A quick glance at the side board clock told me it was just before 6am… what the!? Just let me throw something on!

Please just open up! Hurry open the door!!!!!

As I reached the door and swung it open, I had every intention of yelling at the office clerk. But the office clerk was not at my door.

A girl fell through the door, pushing me aside slamming the door shut and locking it. The girl ran to the furthest part of the room from the door and slid her back down the wall. A smear of deep red blood followed her down the wall as she slumped on the floor. All she managed to say was a very breathless thank you and she passed out.

Shit!!!’ After a few seconds of shock I came to my senses. Checked for pulse gave her face a few slaps Miss, miss! Can you hear me? I grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a few shakes. No response. I went to grab my phone and call for help when she pushed her head up and grabbed my arm looked me straight in the eye don’t… please you’re in danger" it was almost a whisper. With that passed out again.

Ok what the hell do I do now? Wait… did she just say I was in danger? Has she got the right room? Think, think, think Sammy!  . . . shit!!! I say to myself as I’m searching her for any identification. Nothing. No wallet, no keys, no mobile, nothing that helped me as to her identity. Who walks around with no mobile or I.D these days? She was dressed entirely in black leathers. A small figure hugging vest with patterns indented on top of each breast. Connected to her leather pants she had blades in covers strapped to each leg with thin shoe string like leather. Each blade had wooden handles with intricate patterns of gold and silver metal, deep in the wood so they were smooth to touch. Each handle had a plaited leather loop attached to the butt of the handle which fed into a metal thumb hole. Her hair was long and in intricate small plaits. Her hair was all black except for a plait each side of her face. One was a very bright blue and the other was a fiery red.

I was pacing the room. I didn’t know what to do. I thought, ok cold cloth, that’s what they do in the movies. Worth a try. I grab a wash cloth from the bathroom put cold water on it and come back. She’s gone. I checked the door. It is still locked from the inside. I don’t know why but I opened the door to check outside. With it locked from the inside this was pointless but I looked anyway. There was a strong smell of blood and a slight whisk of wind, but no girl. Then it hit me. I should have known. I was sleep walking again! My family called them ‘waking dreams’ as my eyes were open and I was up and acting out the dream physically. It looked to all those around me that I was wide awake. This time the dream was a little more vivid than usual. Wow, I really need to get to a town and see a herbalist. Hopefully they can make me the same tea my mum gets for me. I’ve taken it for years. I have no idea what is in it or what it is called. I’m sure if I described it and what I use it for they can come up with something similar. Mum had told me that I started having trouble sleeping when I came into puberty. She insisted I was not to go to a doctor. You don’t want to dope yourself up with chemicals she would say. I will get you a special natural remedy she was quite strict about it. I’ve drunk the tea every night since. Even when I moved away from home my mum would visit every month with a new supply. I use to tell her not to worry but she insisted. It’s what mum’s do. After a few visits it just became the norm. I knew that it was just her excuse to check up on me. I never would say anything. Just let her have her win and her visit. It made her happy and that was important to me. My only issue being, I have noticed, lately more than ever, I had relied on that tea to sleep. Without the nightly drink for the last two weeks the dreams have increased. More real with today’s being the topper. I actually thought it was a real girl in real danger. With the disturbing end to the waking dream… I was in danger also.

This was getting out of hand. My waking dreams have always interrupted my life. In one form or another it always ends up that I have to make up some fantastic story to explain my weird behavior. As a teenager in high school it got so bad I would try to think of ways to stay home. The types of jeers and bullying that I got every day slowly wore me down. Where I went the whispers followed. She is so weird, avoid the freak, and my personal favorite… Quick move out of her way, don’t let her touch you what? Are you that stupid you think you can catch mental illness? Wow, your parents must be so proud. Yes, getting through high school was fun. By the time I’d reached my forth high school I’d learnt the art of faking it. The last school move saw my parents uprooting their entire lives and moving to a country town in the mountains. I stayed at home for an entire year before going back to school. Mum and Dad tried home school but I didn’t like it. I wanted to be able to go to school and try and make friends. Of course this did not happen. No matter how hard I tried. I just didn’t fit. I didn’t fit in any group.

I was never comfortable and I was never accepted. I was too nerdy for the nerds. Not cool enough for the popular girls. Not sporty at all, in fact very uncoordinated. I could never understand why I was not liked. Besides being a bit weird every now and again. Even the ‘weird’ group did not accept me. I gave up asking myself why in the end. As for the house, I liked the house. I think it was because it was high in the mountains. It would take my father twenty minutes to drive me down to school each day. He never complained about the drive. We would do the quiz that was on the radio at 7:30am each morning together on the trip down. It became a game to see who could answer the question first. And get the right answers. It was our laugh together.

The house itself was the best one we had lived in out of all of them. It was a log cabin that had three stories, each going down a level with the mountain. It had open fires in every room. The kitchen was the most used room in the house. We would all sit there every night and do dads cross word that he could never quite finish by himself. I didn’t realize until I got a bit older that he could finish it; it was just his way of spending time as a family. My parents would help me with my homework questions over dinner. All in all I had a pretty good home life. The house had steps down to the lounge room that went out onto a deck that overlooked the forest and mountain below us. I miss that view now. When you are young and think you know everything there is to know, you never realize how lucky you are at the time. It was ok until I finished school and had the need to head out into the world. A job and a flat in the city, failed. Followed by several other failures. In both jobs and relationships. The longest relationship, lasting all of three months. My uncanny ability to destroy things with my behavior made me hate staying in the one place for too long. My reputation for weirdness always caught up with me eventually.

After thinking about all of this I realize I needed that tea, and I needed it fast. Do I give in and ring mum for the name of it? I can’t do that our last conversation ended in a screaming match and me saying I’m a grown woman stop interfering in my life. The term ‘helicopter parent’ is a mild term when it comes to my parents. I wanted a life made with my own rules and to get it I had to cut ties. I wanted to know that I could make my own decisions. The last time I saw her she gave me a six month supply of the tea. Well, it’s been nine months and I have managed to stretch out the tea, with it running out two weeks ago. Maybe it’s just stress? With everything that has gone on in my life since the day I left home I would not be surprised. Yep, time to ask that office clerk if there is a herbalist in the area.

After dressing, and practically inhaling my breakfast, I set out. A quick chat with the office allowed me to find out that not only are they the most rudest people on the planet, there was also an old herbalist over in the next town. Well, the words they used were really old black dude. A town called Robins Nest. Turns out after a quick thirty minute drive, I rolled into a very sleepy little town with not much going for it except lots of old fashioned looking shop fronts and town hall. Seems the town hall also passes as council chambers, community center and the local theatre. I felt the familiar prickling on my arms and the back of my neck. There’s those goose bumps, always a sign I should not be sticking around just get my tea and get out. Back on the open road and gone!

After going up and down the main street four times, I finally find it! I am not surprised I missed it the first couple of times. It’s a pokey little shop front with blacked out windows and the blind half way down on the door. It has as a sign that reads Open later. A little giggle escaped my mouth and came out at that one. Well that’s one way to run a business I suppose. It’s after nine thirty in the morning and no shops are open except the diner. The Diner is an old fashioned 1960’s style Diner. Even has the giant guitar on the roof and I can see the little leather booths inside. Oh what the hell, I’m here now. It’s not like I have to rush to be somewhere. On entering the diner not only do I notice that my goose bumps have gone into hyper drive but every single person stopped talking and all heads pop up at the same time and stare at me. I’m instantly nervous. Nervous for me is not a good thing. It can cause a waking dream. The waking dreams while I’m actually awake are the worse kind. The more nervous I get the higher my stress levels.

I choose my usual seat whenever I eat out. The very back corner, opposite the entrance. It always makes me feel better. It’s close to the back door for quick exit and I can also see who comes in and everyone in the place. No chance of anyone coming up behind me. It had become second nature to me to limit the risk of stress and always have a fast get away in case of a waking dream embarrassing moment. I must admit I was feeling particularly uncomfortable today. Especially with every eye still bored directly at me.

The waitress comes over with a coffee pot in her hand. Coffee sweetie? Oh um no thank you. Do you have any tea? I reply. Yep, there’s that look. Waitresses hate it when you ask for tea. The coffee pot is so much easier. It’s already made and hot and all they have to do is refill your cup. Tea, now tea they have to get out the tea, warm a pot, get an extra cup set out, organize a mini jug for milk and boil water. Way too hard for a tired waitress. So nice big fake smile it is. Sure, I’ll be back in a jiffy and she stomps off through the saloon doors into the kitchen. Well at least everyone has stopped staring at me. I take a quick scan. Yep, everyone’s still in the same spot as when I walked in and back to whispering amongst themselves. Very eerie, which in my life usually equals a bad day for me.

My tea seemed to take an eternity to come out. But it was worth it when it did. A strange blend one that took a couple of tries to get use to, but nice all the same. It came out in the oldest looking tea cup and tea pot I had ever seen. Fine china with hand painted flowers on both the cup and the pot. I was expecting the tin one’s you get from every other coffee shop and a pottery coffee cup. As I sipped my tea, the shops around the diner slowly started to open up. If there was one thing to say about Robins Nest it defiantly did not do anything quickly. Ha ha maybe I’m just accustomed to City pace and this weirdness I’m feeling is just the country. Of course they are all going to be staring at me; I’m a stranger in town. I’m guessing with the main road bypassing this little place they would not see many new faces. I have to learn to turn my built in suspicious nature off!

Finally the open later herbalist is open. No curtains up or bright lights just the sign flipped on front door reading I’m here. Welcome. As I push the door open my nose is assaulted with an array of different smells, none of which are a pleasant intake. My hand and sleeve instinctively went to cover my nose. That’s just the closed up smell, do not worry yourself it should get better in a few minutes. I start searching in the darkened room for the source of the voice. I am greeted with candles of all shapes and sizes and old jars filled with a variety of colors