Board Thread:Fun and Games/@comment-32745070-20190205222446/@comment-35828480-20190207173736

I'm sorry for the cringe.

- Well, we have Aud back! Rita seems so much happier. I’m glad about that, but… ARGH that man! Mr. Baardson.. No wonder he sided with that cruel ugly other guy. And Mr. Baardson’s stupidly handsome bittersweet grin.. It always makes me so mad. I didn’t feel like doing anything today. I just sat around on my bed being bored. When I woke up I put on a black leather jacket and some dark jeans. Harumph. I saw Aidan walk in.

“Hey!” He said cheerfully.

“Hello...” I mumbled.

Then Aidan studied my expression. “You ok there?”

Oh schmitz.. I immediately put a fake smile on, “oh yeah I’m fine.”

“Well, lemme know if you want to talk,” Aidan replied.

I scoffed and thought, ''hah! As if! ''I just nodded, and scratched behind Tumble’s frill. The man who killed my dad is still out there. I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna take a sword and plunge it through his heart, and then twist it.. Watch his blood pour out and.. BLERHCH I puked. Forgot. I’m squeamish. I quickly cleaned it up and went outside to clear my head.

Isla had some waffles made, and pushed the plate towards me. “Have some!” She said.

“I’m not hungry,” I murmured quietly as I slipped past.

I sat down on a bench. Something crinkled in my back pocket. I reached for it, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it, and gasped when I saw it. It was a picture of my dad, in his early thirties. He was laughing, with mud on his face. And there I was, sitting is his lap with some mud in my hands. I smiled.

The good old days. But they’re gone now, thanks to Mr. Baardson. I let a few tears slide down my cheeks, the memories coming in. My first ride on a dragon, with my dad helping me up. My first drawing, of my dad. Graduating Ovvock Juniors’ Academy, me in my pin-stripe suit. My seventh birthday party, when my dad burnt the cake. Me ruining Grima’s artwork and my dad turning it into a masterpiece. More tears fell, and I didn’t realize I was crying.

Then, Kate walked over. She saw me crying and softly asked, “What’s wrong?”

And…. Long story short I came off to short. “Nothing. J-just leave me alone. I don’t need anything from you.” More of the Guardians came over, and I began speaking to all of them. “From ANY of you. J-just get away from me. I don’t need you. Just GET AWAY!” I shouted as I pushed past them, and then I yelled at Tumble.

“Get over here you stupid dragon, let’s go.”

I ran back into the cabin, grabbed my bag, and then I mounted her, and she flew off. I didn’t want her to stop flying. We just flew and flew, and before we knew it, we came upon a tiny clearing, with a tiny pond and a tree for shade. I made Tumble land there, and I slumped against the tree.

“Stupid Guardians,” I muttered as I threw a rock forcefully into the lake, “I don’t need their darned help. Bah those monkeys think they can fix it. The only way they can fix it is bringing my dad back from the dead.”

I heard a stick crack. Who’s that? I grabbed a dagger from my bag and ran to Tumble.

“Don’t move girl,” I whispered, “strike if they attack.”

Then Mr. Baardson came into view.

“AAARGH! You ugly monster! What are you doing here?!?!” I screamed.

“The real question is what YOU are doing here. This is our territory.” Mr. Baardson replied.

“How was I supposed to know? You should’ve made a gigantic sign saying ‘this land is territory of the stupidest simpleminded imbecile’. Then I would have understood,” I mocked.

Mr. Baardson stared coldly at me, then lashed out “oh I wish you wouldn’t have said that.” And he jumped up and tackled me, pinning me to the ground.

“Tumble! Help!” I yelled.

Tumble tried to tear Mr. Baardson off me, but Mr. Baardson shot her with a bola. She roared in fury, but couldn’t get away. He grabbed my wrists with one hand, and punched me across the cheek with the other. OWWWW! I yelped in pain, and I tasted blood in my mouth. Thordarnit… I wrestled, and struggled to get away.

In response, Mr. Baardson slapped me across the face and then grabbed a club. He whacked my chest and I felt the wind blow out of me. I took deeper breaths to get air in, but it hurt to breathe. Was all the air disappearing? He bashed my arms, and they were so full of pain they were going numb.

“Help!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Was that choked voice mine?

“Don’t do that,” Mr. Baardson slapped me again. And then, with a bash to the head, I lost conciseness.