I'm Still Sadie

This Wasn't MLK's Dream

In the banner is a trailer by E_Ariel!

THIS WASN'T MLK'S DREAM

Have you ever woken up in a stranger's bed?

Wait a minute. Before you turn away so soon, I'd like to apologize. I didn't intend for my question to sound so one-night-standish.

Although uncomfortable the way I put it, finding myself in a stranger's bed was precisely what happened to me this morning. And with pink bedding, carpet, and wallpaper, the place gave me the creeps. I didn't feel like I was supposed to be there. It'd be more appropriate if an alien (whose knowledge of Earth and its people consisted solely of the stereotype that all girls' favorite color was pink) was supposed to be there instead.

And if that were the case, all I could think was to tell the alien to go for more subtlety.

Don't get me wrong, I liked pink as much as the next person, but this bedroom was too much and was bordering on being my worst nightmare.

Its vivid color earned this place a name as my "opposite room".

Within a few seconds of naming the place, all of my questions came flooding in at once. Where was I? And why on Earth was I here?

I didn't remember. I was blanking on what had happened the day before, but judging from the pink, foreign room, there was the possibility that I had been drugged and kidnapped.

The alternative was that I had spend the night at my best friend, Nell's house for a sleepover, but that didn't account for the assault on my eyes in the form of the color pink, which was in no way her bedroom.

And besides, Nell wasn't even here. In fact, there was nobody in this opposite room. I was all alone.

At the thought of my solitude, my heart stopped beating for a moment or two. Whether I had been kidnapped or was the last living person on the planet, all I knew was that something had to be wrong.

Very, very wrong.

Something about that idea was off. For one, I wasn't chained to the bed, and there were no spikes in the carpet or surveillance cameras on the walls. From that, my opposite room and possible holding cell looked...safe.

Nonetheless, I let my feet touch the carpet with caution. But I just found that I was still alive, which merited the start of my normal morning routine. I stretched out my back until the warden of my cell interrupted.

"Get up!" a woman's voice yelled from another room. "It's already after seven!"

I lurched at the sound, but then rejoiced afterwords. Although she didn't sound particularly pleased with me, her loud yelling was proof that I wasn't the sole survivor of the nuclear apocalypse and was going to be okay.

However, it seemed that my celebration was premature, because when I didn't respond to the mysterious yeller, the doorknob wiggled and in came a female creature with a face the color of ketchup.

"What are you doing? Get dressed, Tegan, and let's go," she said.

"Tegan?" I whispered. "My name's Sadie."