It had been a rather cold day, icy roads, considering the cold December. It was looking like the drought might be a little closer to over and the lakes would be a little higher when summer would come. My friends and I had been crossing the street, and considering the conditions of the small town roads, it was a rather empty street. Like anyone fiddling with her phone and talking to her friends at the same time, I had dropped my phone. The result of bending over to pick up my phone had been rater disastrous. The driver, unable to slow down due to a rather unlikely placement of ice, and my resulting tunnel vision of pick-up-my-phone turned to fight-flight-freeze response, well, I wouldn't be telling my story right now if I had gotten out of the way, now would I?
Unfortunately, there isn't a story to tell. Other than finding out that it was my own mom who had hit me and caused the result of looking at my own chubby body, and did my hair always look so bad? Short, I liked my hair short, but with this new perspective maybe I shouldn't have. Shoulder length would have looked good on me. Ah, I'm losing focus. Ever since I realized I was in the form of a fourth-dimensional being (a ghost, spirit, etc.) my thoughts have been flighty. Focus is a very difficult thing to keep while being essentially dead, must be the result of a lack of a brain, although it isn't that bad. It could certainly be worse. Wait, it is pretty bad, considering I'm looking at my comatose body. I wonder if I could influence the machinery? I'm certainly not breathing on my own. Who knew that a mini cooper could do so much damage? Focus Nicole!
I looked at my mom, she was grieving. Considering she essentially killed me, I don't blame her. If only I could tell her not to blame herself. If the dead could talk to the living the grieving process would be much simpler. Or scarring. Maybe it would be best to keep the worlds apart. If only I could just tell her that everything will be alright. I looked over at my brother. He wasn't fairing very well either. His eyes were rimmed red as well as my step-dads. What is it with the majority of men refusing to cry? Just let the tears fall, it would be so much simpler. And freeing, it could also possibly free me if you could all just let me go. Didn't I tell them that I didn't want to be on life support? Ah, they're grieving, they don't want to let go. But I'm stuck here if they don't let go of me!
I decided to flop back onto the hospital bed holding me, and then proceeded to realize my mistake. Who knew a ghost could feel nausea? Although I did have a rather particular fear of heights, and falling for five floors and three basement levels was not by any definition my idea of fun. But then I kept falling. By then I was ready to hurl, even though I lacked a gag reflex, until I didn't lack one. I'm solid again! I pressed my hands against my belly and face.
"Holy fuck!" I couldn't help but shout out, and then I hit something. Hard, and it hurt. A lot. And with my newly created nerves, I could feel something underneath me. Amidst my groaning and the general feeling of pain I reached under myself for whatever was digging into my new body's back, and before I registered the various "nos" and "don't do thats" being shouted at me, I found myself to be holding a ring. I proceeded to look around the room, and I noticed immediately that I was surrounded by rather good looking men. Well, seems I still lack focus despite the new brain, maybe it has to go through puberty again?
I looked, yet again, and saw what seemed to be elves. The pointy ears gave it away. Alright, fell into another universe. I can work with that, after all, I was essentially dead. Why not fall into another world. Yes, it made perfect sense. I kept looking around, and then I realized something. This looked like the meeting, from The Lord of the Rings movies, right before the fellowship was formed! I let out a quiet "Woaaaah" into the air, so this is what happens when you die? That's actually pretty neat. Although I would've preferred the Potterverse, I could work with elves, hobbits, dwarves, men, and Istari. I'm not that picky.
"It would seem that we have an uninvited guest in our midst." Elrond, sorry, Lord Elrond spoke, after regaining his composure, seemingly the first to do so. This seemed to break everyone else through their own reverie of someone falling through a ceiling yet landing solid on a table. I looked at him, then at the ring in my hand, and proceeded to go through the mental process of remembering how the movies went, as it had been years since I last saw them. And I mean years. Since they first came out and the effects were super awesome number of years since I saw them. So, I belatedly realized I was holding an evil ring in my hand. I proceeded to put it down, and to scoot off of the large circular table. With a rather beet red face to go with the scooting, at least the blood flow was working, I was starting to wish myself dead again so that I wouldn't have to face such embarrassment.
When I finally got off the table after what seemed to be an eternity of scooting, I noticed I got off next to Gandalf and Frodo. Frodo seemed to have a look of worry, wonder, and sympathy for my plight. Gandalf looked about ready to laugh. I wanted to die again a little more now.
"It would seem our guest hails from another world." Gandalf spoke quietly, and yet it seemed as if the words were shouted with how quiet the room was. Everyone proceeded to openly look at me now.
Yes, fuel the flames in my cheeks and my desire to crawl into a hole and die Gandalf. Please. I would be much obliged good sir. I looked at Gandalf with those words in my mind and I swear I watched his lips twitch upward a little more.
Frodo's more gentlemanly side seemed to suddenly pop up then. He got up, and I could tell he was ready to offer me his seat, but he faltered, seemingly remembering the particular meeting he was in.
"Ah, thank you Frodo, for offering your seat to her. She will be very useful in the future I can assure you." Gandalf spoke, and I couldn't help but narrow my eyes at the Istari. He was pushing what little limits I had. I blew my short, yet somehow still in my face, dark bangs out of my face in exasperation, and took the offered seat.
"Thank you Frodo. Please, Lord Elrond, continue with the meeting." I said, softly yet firmly. If Gandalf wanted me to play the part of drop-in heroine, then I was more than willing to do so. Anyways, technically speaking, I was already dead. It's not like the coming adventure could kill me again… right?