GameStream Chronicles: #1

Chapter 1- Frisriel Dreemurr

I tumbled out of bed and fell to the ground.

"Ow." I hauled myself back onto the bed. I wanted to go back to sleep, but I knew that I couldn't. Not now that I've fallen. I inherited my falling from my mother. She is pretty clumsy.

I have a very large family. So large, that we are more like a big group of friends. It is also a very complex family tree. It would be weird to call my family members by their family member names.

Hey, granduncle in-law! I wanted to ask you if you want to go to the park with my divorced grandfather and I!

It would be awkward. So instead, we just call each other by our first names. It makes things much easier for everyone.

I checked my nightstand for what I had sketched overnight. I had recently learned that my mind is most imaginative while I sleep. I learned this by accidentally leaving out a paper and pencil one night next to my bed. The next morning, a sketch of two of members of my family lay on the nightstand.

Those family members, in particular, are not actually related to me, but they have known my dad's side of the family since before I was born and my mom befriended them when she was young.

At the time, I had no idea how it had got there, so I set out a pencil and paper again that night. As expected, there was another sketch of a family member when I woke up. Again and again, I set out a paper and pencil and woke up to amazing sketches. It was after about a week when I realized that I was making the sketches in my sleep.

I always did like to paint and draw, so that is what I have been doing for as long as I can remember. Now I make them all the time and sell them for credits, the area of currency here in the GameStream. My neighbor is my biggest customer. She loves my paintings.

The ones I make overnight are only sketches, so I still have to paint them. Then, I have to sign them, put them on the market, sell them, and deliver them.

I walked over to my magnet board and stuck the paper on. The day's sketch was of my dad. He is a really cool goat guy.

I turned to my door and saw a lavender eye peering at me, but then it went away. Was I crazy? Was I hallucinating? Was there actually someone staring at me? My mind was racing with all of these questions. I rushed over to the door but found myself on the floor the next moment. I looked behind myself but saw nothing. Then I looked a little harder and saw a clear string. A tripwire.

That wasn't there before...
I realized.

I looked up just in time to see the bucket tip over and splash water all over me.

I heard laughter outside of my door. The eye. Anger coursing through my veins, I stormed over to the door and threw it open. I saw a tall, teenage boy on the pavement trying to stop laughing. When he saw me, his eyes widened and he said quietly, "Oops...".

"What are you doing!?" I shouted.
"Uh.... I..." He stammered.

He looked pretty freaked out, (and with my appearance, I couldn't blame him) but at the time I didn't care.

"Um... You're a..." He stammered some more.
"I know. Besides, you're not exactly a bucket of roses yourself.

He had jet black hair with long fringe that concealed his right eye. He might have been considered cute if it wasn't for his lavender eyes and his skin. His skin was the most intriguing thing about him. It was deathly pale, but yet still healthy. He put off a dark kind of vibe. Of course, living in a world with video games characters, he was not the strangest person that I had seen.

My anger had cooled down by that time, and my common sense started to return.

"You look familiar; Have we met?" I asked, still dripping wet.
"I don't think we have... Have we?"

His voice was familiar too. I could've sworn I had seen him somewhere.

"What's your name?" I helped him up.
"I'm not sure you'd want to know that." He replied.
"I think I would."
"No."
"Yes."
"I'm not telling you."
"Why not?"
"Because."
"You're acting just like Flowey." I muttered.

Flowey! I remembered. I need to feed him!

"I have to go," I told the odd person. "Bye!"

I left him awkwardly sitting in my bushes, hoping never to see him again. Sadly, my hoping did no good, and I, Frisriel Dreemurr, would see him many more times.