Of Glens and Ghosts

Of Glens and Ghosts - Chapter Three

Chapter Three

"Tempest in a Teacup"

The walk back to my apartment in the cold, drizzling rain really seemed to help with our current state of morale, sarcastically speaking. I usually tend to enjoy rainy days, as long as I am inside my dorm either reading my books or watching Netflix while wrapped up in a blanket burrito. But I guess the universe, or something like that, decided that clearing this storm would take some effort, which meant that I would host our last-minute study session at my place. Uncertainty about Dr. Quill's fiction assignment clouded the future—and caused tension and panic to strike us like thunder and lightning—without any warning or prediction. I guess I do not know what I expected from class today, but I never expected the professor to spring this large of an assignment on everyone. But we can't do anything about it now, except for brainstorming ideas to start our draft. At least the pitter-patter of the rain gave off a relaxing sound to drown out the unbearable noise of our collective thoughts, which currently convulsed like ocean waves during a tempest.

'I cannot believe this is happening right now. I'd like to hang onto the hope that no one is upset with me, but I think we're past that point. They're all definitely upset with me—why can't I just learn to shut my yapper?' I thought to myself, gritting my teeth in embarrassment as I opened to door and stepped inside. 'Maybe I'll make everyone some hot tea to drink while working, as an apology.' Raincoats rustled as they were hung upon the hanging-hooks, which was just above the 12 pairs of shoes that sat in the foyer to dry. 12 shoes meant there were six heads currently in my apartment, which also meant that there were six mugs of lemon-loaf flavored earl grey tea to brew. I turned on the kettle and put teabags in the mugs. Nicole sat down on the couch with her backpack on the floor in front of her. The others plopped down next to her on the couch or sat on one of my floor cushions. She looked exasperated, as did the rest of us. At this point, I don't know how we're going to pull this off, but we have no other choice but to work together and try.

"I put the kettle on, so that we can have some tea while brainstorming," I said. "But first and foremost, I would like to apologize for how things escalated during class on my behalf. I will do my best at helping move this project along as quickly as possible." Everyone nodded. The tea kettle began to whistle, alerting me to head back into the kitchen. Florence began to speak while I poured the boiling hot water into the mugs. "If I can recall this correctly, the monomyth trope has 12 stages, so between the six of us, that only leaves everyone with two stages—or chapters—to write for the story. The only thing that we need to look out for is the story's plot, so that it flows well and makes sense to our audience. For that to happen, we need to band together and write about a collective scenario or experience that most of us can agree on placing the characters in. Let's start with that."

I passed out the mugs of tea to everyone around the room before sitting next to Ivy on the floor. Our brainstorming session had begun. The sound of real keyboards clicked and clacked at a rapid pace as we racked our minds for ideas about the epic quests, heroes, and the stories that we had read this semester. How would we make something completely original, yet engaging enough, and true to the method that Dr. Quill wanted us to use? Which type of traditional fairy-tale creatures would help our characters against this unknown, unwritten villain? 'Maybe I'm overthinking things a little bit. It's only two chapters, and I've read a lot of Arthurian fantasy novels anyway. I just need to go with the flow.' I affirmed to myself, as I tried to think of something—anything—that that just might work.

After about five minutes of aimlessly thinking about everything all at once, it was clear that we were at our rope's end. All that was to be heard was the sound of crumpling notebook paper, muffled arguing, and the howling wind from the storm outside, which still raged on without any signs of stopping. The branches from a big oak tree scraped against the windowpane, which made us cringe at its sickening screech. "Look on the bright side," said Ivy—all of a sudden. "At least we're safe in this apartment instead of outside, which is better by a long shot." Nicole sarcastically rolled her eyes, and nodded her head in agreement. She opened her mouth to speak. "Well, I think this assignment is just about the silliest thing I've ever heard of, and this stupid storm is definitely not helping—" At that moment, a bright flash of lightning flashed through the windows, followed by a clap of thunder that was so loud it shook the entire house, causing everyone to jump. And then all of a sudden, the power went out, plunging the apartment into darkness. "—Move things along." Finished Nicole.

Tristan tapped my shoulder, causing me to nearly jump out my skin again. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was him. I do not know who else I thought it might be, but in the moment, I did not think it was going to be Tristan, but a random serial killer instead. "Whoa, what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost." He said, turning on his phone's flashlight. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to show you one of my ideas." I then looked at him in the same way as I would look at a baby duck at the university's pond. Mirai suddenly stood up, grabbed Tristan by his shoulders, and shook him around like a rag doll. "Tristan, you're a genius! Our villain should be a ghost—like one who makes our perception of reality change based on what our characters want to see or feel in that moment!" She yelled, excitedly. It was the first time I've seen someone look excited all evening, and it made me feel a little tinge of excitement as well.

My excitement did not last, though, as the sinister voice of realism and reason pushed aside our happy fantasies. "I'm not discounting this as a cool idea, Mirai. It really is interesting—but it's been done before already by Steven King's characterization of Pennywise from It. Unfortunately, the shapeshifting demonic villain idea has already been written. And Dr. Quill specifically stated that our story must be original." Said Florence. I then heard Mirai mockingly whisper a repeated synopsis of Florence's words under her breath. Nicole sniggered quietly, cracking a snarky smile in the darkness. 'Oh no,' I thought, as I tried not to stress myself out. 'What are we getting ourselves into again this time? Please tell me another fight won't break out. Not now.' But it was too late, because Florence had heard both Mirai's mocking whispers and Nicole's giggling. I guess our little feuds were not over quite yet after seeing the look in her eyes. I could tell that she was not having this fight right now.

"Well then, I suppose you have a better idea, Nicole? Would you like to share it with the class since you seem so happy about it?" She demanded. Nicole pulled out her laptop, and laughed again with a tinge of sarcasm hanging off of the edge of her voice. "Oh yes Florence, I have loads of story ideas about British Arthurian fantasy tropes from fairy-tales written in the 14th century. I have so much knowledge about this topic, it will blow your minds, that I choose to find the time and effort to care about these books when Twilight and Colleen Hoover novels exist." She said. "Just let me plug in my laptop charger so I can pull out my concept of King Arthur as a sexy, sparkly vampire, so just sit tight for a moment." She reached into her pastel pink backpack, and rummaged around trying to find the plug.

Tristan stiffly patted her shoulder, while holding his breath. "Well, if it makes you feel better, Geoffrey Chaucer's trope of the lovesick knight in The Franklin's Tale actually led to the invention of the 'bad boy' concept in YA romance literature. And John Milton's characterization of Lucifer's temptation of Eve in Paradise Lost can also be an honorable mention in the popular 'sexy-Satan' trope." Said Tristan. Nicole just looked at him like he was on high on drugs or something, or like he was speaking in another language besides English before swatting his hand away. "Just you wait..." she muttered as she plugged her charger into the wall. Tristan scooted back a little bit.

But she did not get far, and he didn't scoot far enough, because the exact second the prongs touched the outlet, a large shock of lighting flashed violently across the room. The lightning spread everywhere, and enveloped the entire living room in a bright blue flame, and the floorboards beneath my feet creaked and cracked like pines on the mountainsides. A forceful gust of wind sucked me into the center of the flames. Crying out helplessly, I tried hanging on to someone—or something, but I could no longer feel my classmates next to me, and just kept sliding. But then—a loud 'ZAP!' rang out across the room—shocking my entire body. And then everything went black.