Fantiality

Through the Dusty Cartridge

Author's Note: So I wrote this in 2010 and overhauling it would end up with me just chucking it, and writing time is money, sooooo....just a disclaimer. It's not up to my current writing skill. However, it wasn't like I was twelve or anything, sooo...

It's rude to ask a lady her age.

Enjoy.

T.S. Lowe/LoweFantasy

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The freak day that changed my life had started just like every other Friday. With a piece of toast sticking out of my mouth I had skidded to a halt at the bus stop, barely avoiding a crash domino affect with the line. Some fat kid at the end raised an eyebrow at me and scowled at my toast, to which I scowled back. Fortunately, tubby decided to say nothing as the bus turned around the corner.

"Hello, Miss James." The bus driver greeted with a wavering smile. I returned the greeting while searching the rows of heads for a familiar blond. Catching her, I plopped myself in the seat next to her.

"Hey, Amanda. How'd you sleep last night?" I asked, pulling off my backpack. Amanda pulled her eyes from the plains of houses and sagebrush to me, light shadows beneath her eyes. She sighed, or yawned.

"Horrible. Cozy was bringing down the house with her snoring. I still don't know what's stopping her from moving out, she's nineteen, the bum."

"Since when does Cozy snore?" The bus puffed as the doors closed and it crawled forward.

"Since last night." Amanda moaned, rubbing her eyes.

I gave her a sympathetic look. "Man, you're going to have a hard time today. Enjoy the deskpillow."

"Thanks. History is going to be my favorite class."

For some reason, thinking about quiet made me think of the loud banging's of my brother's shootout army game in his room. The war had been playing out loudly on the other side of my wall all week. Boys and their toys, I thought blithely. When I had been younger I had acted like that, all video gamed out, geeking over Pokémon and swords and fantasy. Perhaps I was growing up faster than I thought. Being seventeen can feel so old at times. Soon we'd be graduated and grown up, with no time for silly games, even if we wanted to. I glanced to the side at Amanda.

"Well, hey, how about spending the night at my house tonight? It is Friday; we could pull out the old 64 and play some Zelda. It's been a long time since I've wrecked some serious monster pawnage upon Hyrule."

A weak smile worked on her face. "Sounds awesome."

I let her doze off the rest of the way. Meanwhile, I daydreamed about the stories I was going to write during the more particular boring parts of class: His hair was white, his wings whiter. The winged warrior raced along the shore side with those huge wings outspread, fleeing the dark shape that pursued him on oily, bat-like wings. Through English, Math, and on he turned midair to meet his opponent, teeth bared. A bright curved sword glistened in the nearing morning light, shining with its own inner light. The monster of darkness drew nearer. Its long jaws snapped beneath gleaming black eyes. My fingers itched to record such a battle in ink.

I didn't get a chance, however, for it wasn't long after school when Amanda was ringing at my door, holding a familiar grocery bag. We chatted about a bit before migrating to my room to set up a nest of blankets, arguing lightly over whether to play card games or video games first. The Nintendo won. Setting up the old, dusty green gaming consul, Amanda watched me as she brushed her thick blond hair over her shoulder. While I was busy snapping in the controllers, she flicked at the clip holding back my own dark hair.