I can't see straight anymore. The flashing lights, the dancing, the drinks and the baobab, a type of drug. The music drowns out everything and the place is packed. But I need to go before my father finds out I'm gone. Staggering over to see my friends, some guy grabs my arm and asks how old I am.
"Sixteen?" I ask him.
"Madam, you are under arrest." My stomach clenches like a fist.
The next day........
"Madam, your parent or guardian is here" Says the police officer who arrested me last night. I get up from the flimsy bed with husky sheets, and my day starts with my father's crossed face. Nobody says a word. "He paid your bail" The police officer informs me. My father and I leave the police station, and he is silent the whole hover home. I head for my rooms, with their stupid pink doors.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa little lady" my dad says in his thickly accented voice "You broke the law, probably did drugs and god knows what else. I'm taking away your watch. And your hovercraft keys. And you can't leave the house except to go to school." I consider that, for a minute. None of that will stop me. I don't care what he thinks."Now go to school" He commands me.
"Can I fly myself there? Please" I beg him. He says it seems reasonable, and off I go, but not to school. I'm going to the "abandoned" iPhone factory. How barbaric people must have been, thinking iPhones were so modern or whatever. Anyway, I'm here.
"Hey Teresa! Back for your fix?" Lester, my friend/drug dealer asks.
"Yep, just twenty grams, though" Lester hands me my baobab, and I give him the hundred dollars.
"Nice doing business, Teresa! See you next month!" I can't fly home, or the neighbors will know I didn't go to school. No one walks anymore. This is ridiculous. So I decide to hitchhike, foolproof, right? I get into some guy's delorean, and off we fly. He was really weird, bright red tuxedo, but that doesn't matter. Arriving at home, I can finally get my fix. I know it's wrong, and will probably kill me, but I love the rush. I feel like I could take over the world! WOOOHOOOO! I run out of the house, and down the street and over to McBurgerWendy's.
"I WANT 10 MCRIBS" I yell at the worker. He looks at me, shocked.
"Ok, coming right up ma'am" He mutters nervously. I get my McRibs and gorge myself. "Ummm, ma'am, you need to pay for those." I evaluate my options, and decide to run away. Ah.....I love McRibs. Then I just watch TV all day. When I hear my mother outside the door, I switch to the news.
The guy on the news says "Well, it seems, Diane that tensions are rising all over Asia and Eastern Europe, especially in Russia and the Koreas. The Middle East has become the New China, with a population of nearly one billion people living in a city covered desert, where do they get food and water? We'll tell you tonight at 11." Ughhh, who cares?
"Hi sweetie." My other dad says, with a fake smile on his face. "Now you know why we moved from Russia to the American Empire" he laughs bitterly. All of a sudden my high crashes and my head starts to throb.
"Can I go lay down? Please." I ask him sweetly, and go to my rooms. Ugghhhh, am I tried.
One week later.....
Thank God it's Friday. Hah, that should be an acronym. Anyway, I hop down the stairs and type in the code for eggs. It never ceases to amuse me, watching the food just appear. I eat as slow as I can, gotta be fashionably late. Then I step into the cleaning tube and wait twenty seconds for it to clean my body and teeth. I go back upstairs and enter my closet, and Brandon, a computer with the voice of a forty year old fashion designer tells me what to wear and does my makeup. Then I wait awhile, just to make sure I'm not on time. Finally I get in the tube and am beamed to school. School's boring, as usual. Who cares about a terrorist group if it's all the way in China. Also, we have a nuclear bomb lockdown again. Those are kind of interesting. Then, during math, my last block, a strange guy walks in the school. He's African-American and he look exhausted, maybe even drunk. He shambles over to the intercom:
"I have a bomb" he says with utmost calm. The school falls into a silent hush. Then, just like that, chaos breaks out, with teachers trying to keep students calm and getting them out of the building I leap out a window and land hard on my shoulder, and shriek like a banshee. Limping away, I hear the bomb going off, and cringe. I need to get to a hospital and fix my shoulder. I have to walk around for while before I find one. But at least it doesn't take too long. If you're wondering why I'm not more devastated about the school blowing up, I hated that place and everyone in it. I run home, and start playing my music. I know ABBA's at least 70 years old, but I love them nonetheless. The school is all over the national news and then all of a sudden there was a knock on the door. The news agency was here, to interview me!
"Now, Mrs Bazin, you were in the school when it exploded, yet you survived. How did you accomplish such a feat?" The reporter asks
"O, it was horrible! I lept out window and broke my arm! It was just traumatising!" I wail, and start to fake cry.
"I'm so sorry for what happened Mrs Bazin and I think I speak for the whole Empire of North America when I send my deepest condolences to you and all of the student and staff who perished in that horrible attack." The reporter looks at me sympathetically. I love this publicity. I think I'm going to milk it dry. Just think, my face all over the media. Interviews, T-shirts that say "I ♥️ Teresa" and maybe even a movie or two. The interview goes on like this for a while, and then my father tells me to go inside and to bed.
My first dad, Vladimir, a "telecommunications" billionaire. My other dad died because of heart failure back in Russia. My alive father immigrated from Russia when terrorism, tension, taxes and bigotry drove us out. Also he wanted a fresh start after Vlachislov's death. Now my father is sad and old, robbed of his homeland and persecuted because of his religion.
A few days later....
"Teresa, I have come to the decision that we are moving back to Europe. But not Russia, instead we will move to The state of England. It isn't safe here anymore, not with emperor Trump Jr." My dad says to me. I couldn't care less, but I will need to find another dealer. I need to go say bye to Lester too.
"I need time to process this, so I'm going for a walk." I lie to him. I beam out into the street and head towards the iPhone factory, several thousand dollars in hand. I get there, and see Lester dead, blood pooling around his shiny bald head. I mourn briefly, and run inside to see if there is anything left in the warehouse. Lester's secret stash is still here. Thank god, free baobab! But I'm sad about Lester, so I smoke some to deal with my sadness.
One month later...
We're on the private yacht that my father gave to Vlachislov as a wedding present. It has kind of an Italian theme, but quieter and with more wine and antiques. It's kind of eerie how quiet it is, actually. Now I'm worried. Maybe it's just the baobab. I walk downstairs to check on my dad, and see the ship is burning up with the poster saying: DIE SATANISTS! I leap across the deck and try to lower a lifeboat down. I should have paid more attention when that guy was telling us how to lower the boats. The fire spreads across the poop deck and is getting dangerously close to me. Eureka! I did it! Jumping into the lifeboat just as the fire reaches me. That was close. And ignorant. Yes, my father was a Satanist, but his version of Satan is an individualist who believes strongly in liberty. But people have been ignorant throughout all history, from the persecution of the Christians to Islamophobia.
I hope my dad made it out okay. The fear makes my stomach sink the yacht into the ocean. I call for him, again and again, my hope drowning a little more each time. I finally give up and use the emergency motor to speed away.
Several hours pass....
Here I am. England. Land of kingdoms, all in a constant gradual civil war between at least a hundred different kingdoms vying for power. At least it's usually pretty peaceful and the laws are pretty badly enforced.
After a number of weeks...
"Weeeee arrrre gaaaaaatherrred heeeeeere todaaaaaay tooooooo reeeead theeeee lassssst willll annnndddd tessssssttttament offff Vladddimieeeeer Galligeeeer Bazzzzzinnnnnn." A lawyer drones on monotonely. After what feels like a couple hours, he finally gets to read what I get. "Terrrreeeeeesssssa Bazzzinnnnn. I llllleeeeeavvve yooooou withhhhh a fortuuunnne of tennnnn billion dollllarrrrssss...." I can't believe my ears. I just got the lion's share of my fathers wealth!
A few hours pass...
I just bought a modern apartment or as they say in England, a flat. I got some decorations and groceries and appliances. It is all modern. Glass, stainless steel, weird shapes and bad art. I turn on the TV and see the news. Ugh. Just as I'm about to switch the channel there's a hurricane warning and news about a war breaking out between the Kingdom of Russia and the the United Empires of Arabia, and more terrorist attacks all over Europe. Then the power goes out and I can hear the roaring winds of a hurricane. My watch says it's because of extreme global warming. I can hear water rushing in the streets, dancing a deadly dance. The sellers told me the house is very secure and should be fine in up to a category four hurricane. But there are seven categories so...The opium ceases my worries though. I'm going to bed to eat Nutella with the birds. In the middle of the night I hear pounding on the door. It's the self-proclaimed refugees of the storm. Yay.
"Good night madam. Me and these people are victims of the hurricane known as Felicia and our companion John is in a condition most dire." Says a British gentleman.
"Can't you bother someone else?" I groan
A Russian man pipes up. "No, we are very tired and wet and John needs assistance"
"Ugh. Fine. Put John in the couch and I want the rest of you to sit quietly and not make any trouble" I command them. In they come. A Frenchman, a Spaniard, a Czech woman and the British guy. Oop, there's also a burly Hindu woman who's looking at me lustfully. John is apparently on the stairs. So the Hindu woman and the Spaniard go get him. He looks Canadian, and he has red hair, like me. Except his is curlier and darker and probably more natural. The Czech woman claims to be a trained nurse so I get whatever excuse I have for medical supplies. They rest John on the New. White. Couch. And the nurse wraps toilet paper around John's severed leg while I die a little as the couch gets a big red stain. "I'm going back to bed. If you need anything, suck it up." I say to them.
In the morning....
It's 6:28 when they wake me up with the news that John had bled out. The storm is still raging and they've eaten all of my food. Great, no coffee. I wonder if I can order a pizza. I dial Pizza Huts number and no one's there. Talk about lousy service. Since I refuse to let John stink up anymore of my apartment, so I throw him onto the stairs. I tell the people that I dealt with John and he's fine.
Then there's a rumble. The a crack, and the squeaking noise that can be heard before glass shatters. Then a shatter and a BOOM. I hear a mighty roar and the whole building shudders like a leaf in the storm. Then my whole house slides, everything crashing to the side. We're afloat. Then I start to freak out, partly because I haven't used my good friend in a while. I grab my lighter and the opium soothes me. Now what to do about the storm? I need to get to higher ground to see the chimpanzees. TO HIGHER GROUND!
"TERESA HELP US!" The Hindu woman yells. "TERESA-GHTFTGHYIHGGFGHJVD!" She screams the ocean sucks her out like a giant horrible vacuum. I can sympathize with dogs now, them being afraid of vacuums. I'll teleport out of here with my carpet. AWAY FELICIA. Then I hear the ocean crash into my door, snapping me more or less back to reality. The door creaks under the weight of the water and begins to crack. I rip all of the drawers out of my wooden bureau and show it out the window, jumping in. That turned out to be a really bad idea, because one inch thick of fifty year old wood cannot support a hundred thirty pound girl. But fortunately, I see a much bigger floating chunk of wall. With the last of the energy the baobab gave me, I leap to it. It's a little shaky and gives me a lot of trouble trying to stay balanced. Plus I just had my drug crash and feel horrible. Wait! My drugs! I hope they're okay. Anyway, back to staying alive. My wall is getting waterlogged and I should try and find another thing that floats. Perfect, a raft! I don't know if you've ever tried to paddle a wall towards an object that can get blown around pretty easily during a category six hurricane, but it's hard.
Half an hour later....
I finally made it to this dumb raft, exhausted and grumpy, but alive. I lay down, panting and soaked as the huge waves rock me back and forth.
Many hours pass.....
The waves are finally gone, and the water is receding. I think it's safe to go to bed now.
In the morning....or whenever Teresa wakes up......
"Ay, Missy! You ain't supposed be out here in the middle of the street!" A police officer with a confusing combination of an Italian and English accent says to me. I look around, and see major damage done to London. The police officer tells me that in "lowah" parts of town, the water is still there. I need to find my apartment, and hopefully not John. The streets are cracked, and several streets are blocked off by buildings. Poor insurance companies.
Several days of searching later.....
Here I am, in the remnants of my apartment. All the windows are shattered, and the walls are ripped off to show the skeletal plumbing and wiring. You know, it kind of looks like modern art. Suddenly, I get a news notification. It says
"Hurricane Felicia may have been intentional, according to several sources, stating the Chinese government may have had something to do with it. If this is true, the EU says it will declare war against China." Uh oh. This could be bad. Maybe I should move to Russia, I know Russian. Конечно, я знаю русский язык , мой отец был русским. I don't know, though, I hear Vladimir Putin is a brutal Czar.
In the following week....
"War has just been declared against The United States of China and all families are required to offer one person to fight. That person also cannot be over the age of fifty." Says the nightly news anchor. Well, I'm not fighting. I'll take the first plane to Moscow.
A few days and a couple of late nights full of messy paperwork later....
"Flight 461 is now boarding. Flight 461 to Moscow, Russia." A female attendant says over the intercom. That's me. I walk over to the terminal, and hand a greek woman my ticket. Suddenly I have some worries about going to Russia. I shouldn't make such major choices when I'm high. Oh well, too late to turn back now. Walking down the terminal, I get a little nervous. I've never flown before, whenever my family went anywhere far, we used the yacht.
After a nap...
"Attention, ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing shortly in Moscow. Please fasten your seatbelts" the pilot announces. I refasten my seatbelt and kick the seat in front of mine one more time. After a few minutes we land. The guy in front of me gives me a dirty look, and I just smile at him. I leave the plane and walk off and out to my awaiting car. It takes me to my new house. It's made with white blocks, like a winter palace. I walk in and am blown away by how beautiful it is.There are two staircases that start in separate corners, but then stretch to the other side of the room. A huge chandelier hangs from the ceiling, made out of crystals. I walk up one staircase and find my bedroom. In the other, there is a hallway leading to various other rooms. I run back to the bed and jump on it.
Noontime the next day.....
I'm finally up. Dang that bed is nice. I feel so refreshed and calm. I feel like running. I jog around the house a couple times and then start to make my breakfast. Then I wake up, roll out of bed and see I don't have any food. I go out to buy some things.
A few shopping full days later...
I bought an apple car, a television, lots of food and furniture, and a new phone. Oi, I've already spent six million dollars. But who cares? I should find a baobab dealer.
Twenty minutes later......
"Thank you for the deal Angetha" I say to my new friend, Angetha the drug dealer.
"Great doing business with you, Teresa" she replies, with a motherly glow. I drive away, driving past the neon lights, going so fast that the buildings blend together. At home, I turn on the news out of boredom.
"Many countries are joining the war between China and The European Union, some big contestants include the Empire of North America, India, Brazil, and Australia. The countries each have different reasons, but if the conflict becomes bigger, it could grow into WWIV. Vladimir Putin is considering joining the war. Many critics are asking why. Putin publicly executed them all" the news anchor says. "Vladimir Putin is also requires three million more people of able body and mind to fight in this war." The other news anchor says. I turn the TV off. That's enough bad news for one day. Maybe I need a little...antidepressant.
A single night passes....
I don't feel too good at all. It feels like my stomach is being crushed by a vice and everything has to come out. I can feel bile rising in my throat. BLEAGH! Ah, that's bet-BLEAGH! I think that's al-BLEAGH! What did I eat last night?! It looks like....MCRIBS! At least I feel better. But what should I do now? I turn on the TV to watch an episode of Louise's Burgers, when a news flash appears.
"Vladimir Putin has announced that Russia will join the war, after European troops accidentally set up part of their camp in Russian soil. Putin declared it an act of war and will be the fourth country to join China in its battle for Eurasia. Putin has declared a raise in the army and navy salary and benefits, while putting a new tax in place." Says a news anchor. The other anchor says
"The Kingdom of the Arabian Peninsula is considering joining Europe, to retain its independence and manufacturing rights. The Empire of North America is trying to remain neutral, but If the Chinese forces win, it could spell disaster for the Emperor" The a third anchor walks on screen and says
"All persons living in and around Moscow are advised to have a safe place to hide or flee in the case of an attack" That is just ridiculous. How have the people not overthrown him already, it's only been a century! Well I won't stand for it. I'm moving away, I don't know where, but definitely somewhere with a democracy, like Armenia, or Kurdistan. I decide I will actually do some research on what country I want to move to, instead of just going somewhere. I go online, and look up countries with democratic governments. The list is painfully short. Let's see. Syria, Iceland, Cyprus, Armenia, Kurdistan, Southern Mexico, East Brazil. I think Iceland would be a great place. Then I learn that it is literally impossible to grow or acquire baobab in Iceland. The Kurds don't speak a lick of English or Russian, and neither do the Armenians. Mexico has too high of a poverty rate and so does Brazil. That leaves, let's see...Cyprus. I google them and see that they speak mostly English, with very isolated areas of Turkish. It says that Turkish is dying off, and may become extinct soon, like Japanese or German. The site wants me to donate money to help save Turkish. I would never do that. Even Russian is becoming more and more scarce and is pretty much isolated to just Russia itself.
A few days later...
My house is on the market and I am almost ready to move to Cyprus. I have a major offer on a lovely cabana down there, and I think I'll get it. I have a few serious buyers on my house right now as well. I don't know why anyone would want to move into a potential war zone, but okay.
An entire month passes, no fighting on Russian soil yet, but tension is so thick you can feel it.....
My house is about to be sold. A Chinese millionaire bought it for fifty million dollars, and I just have to go to the real estate agency and firm up a few details with her. I hop in my hovercraft, a fake smile and positive attitude painted over my real personality will hopefully help me sell. On the way there, I hear an immense sound, like a god fell from the heavens and crashed in the Red Square itself. Then a moment of silent horror comes from the populace, and it feels like an eternity. Then one voice cries out, followed by another, and another and soon it's chaos. Jet bombers fly overhead, and Russian planes are beginning to take to the skies. I can hear the clapping sound of marching, and my heart starts to pound like a drum. Then fire is opened up upon the citizens, and blood spatters across the streets and on walls. I hear more bombs hitting the city, and a fire starts. As I run, I can see St Basil's cathedral, and duck inside. In the dim candle light I can make out some nuns and a cleric. One of the nuns says,
"Have silence, child. We will keep you safe, come with me." I follow her and some of the other nuns up the unbelievably colourful hallway. I can see a speck of wall that isn't covered with a crazy color scheme or a portrait of a saint. We go through a few mushroom-shaped double doors and can hear shooting in these holy halls. We make it to a secret room and hide in there. It's rather cramped and there is not light or color at all, much unlike the rest of the church. The room is made very practically, with a pinewood floor, and a rather odd shape takes the walls and ceiling. Then I realise that we are at the top of one of the onion-shaped towers.
"Won't this attract bombers?" I inquire of the clergyman.
"Many of the bombers believe they will go to hell if they damage a place so holy such as this" the clergyman reminded me. Then we fall into an a deep and tense hush, much like the one after the bomb hit. Outside, we can hear gunfire being opened up on both sides, and the screams of citizens trapped between the two sides. We hear the doors of the cathedral being flung open, and the sound of running feet. We hear a command yelled in a foreign language, and my blood runs cold. A nun cries for mercy somewhere, and there a gunshot, then silence. Nobody in the attic makes a sound. I want to scream. There is the sound of more footsteps, and someone gets so close that we can hear him breathing. As if on cue, a nun sneezes. We all freeze, and the footsteps stop. The attic door creaks open, and the clergyman grabs me and pushes me in front, to try and save himself. I twist, and hear a blast from the gun. The clergyman goes down, and I pretend to go with him. The rest of the nuns are shot where they huddle, and the G.I. leaves. I feel like Anastasia Romanov, but hopefully Disney won't make a crappy movie about it. Anyway, I better get some rest.
Teresa falls asleep with a couple dead people, making it the second time this year....
I awake to a pungent odor defiling my nose. Speaking of inhaling, I haven't had any opium in awhile. Maybe it's time to get some. I pause to listen for any marching or gunfire, and hear none. Being careful to not hit any bodies on my way out, I drop out of the trapdoor. Strange, the halls feel so much wider now than they did before. Exiting the cathedral, I bear witness to a gruesome and horrific scene. Fire eats rampantly, levelling landmarks and scorching the sky. There is blood everywhere, splashed like a madman's art piece. Cars are astrew, like a demonic child's toys. Just to top it all off, there is a light snowfall, trying to hide the horror of what had happened in the previous night. I stumble about, seemingly aimlessly, until I find my house. For some reason, it is unscathed by fire and blood, like a snow god's fortress. Entering, I see that the house is intact. I turn the TV on, and turn to the local news channel. One man is there, and he isn't a news anchor. He says:
"If anyone is still out there, please come to the airport at fifteen and a half hours. There will be a plane flying out, to an undecided location." I consider whether to trust him or not, but my dream of going to Cyprus, where I can grow baobab myself and everybody leaves each other alone.
Two thirty goes by, and Teresa sets out on her journey across a war torn city.....
I pack up everything I deem necessary, put it into a bag, and set out. I don't want to use my hovercraft, because I want it to be there when I return. I break into my neighbor's house and see a truly terrible sight. The whole room is covered in blood and guts, and there are people with organs emptied and strewn about the room. I see a woman with her interesting story ripped out and tied around her neck like a noose. I run into the next rooms, looking for the keys to their hovercraft. Then i see them. They are jammed in someone's liver like a makeshift knife. If I'm going to do this, I'll need some baobab. A couple minutes later......WOOOHOOO. LET'S GET THE KEYS! I sprint around the house, taking anything of remote value. I dash out and the hovercraft turns on. We could get there faster on the highest setting. Soon I'm zooming through the streets and can feel the air rushing through my teeth. At the airport, the hovercraft crashes through the glass and knocks over baggage and crashed into booths that once sold overpriced food and junk trinkets. I nearly smash into a group of people, and they yell in surprise. I leap out of the hovercraft, thinking I'll land gracefully. I was wrong. The hovercraft crashes into a terminal and explodes. I land on my butt. Getting up, the more cheerful man in the group welcomes me.
"Hi, my name is Abram and I am here to fly you all to a location in the world." The rest of the group looks kind of creepy. Then I see Agatha, my drug dealer.
"AGATHA! It's so good to see you alive." I tell her
"Teresa? Is that you? It is!" She exclaims. We catch up on everything that happened and she tells me that she was in her abandoned warehouse, counting money, when she heard the Americans coming. She jumped into her secret hiding place for drugs and money, and they missed her completely. And, good thing, she brought her baobab.
"So where are we going?" asks the captain. People toss around several ideas
"Cyprus"
"Guatemala"
"Empire of Americas"
"Siberia"
"Syria"
"Cyprus" This goes on for a while, until Cyprus, then Guatemala wins. We start our walk across the airport, hearts full of hope, and in my case, mind full of drugs. We board the plane, and throw our prized possessions aboard, and sit down. The plane starts up, and off we go.
An hour later, the captain says that we will land in Cyprus in about fifteen minutes, and that there is some minor turbulence. We can feel the turbulence, as the place bounces and bumps in the winds. Then the plane starts to flop back in forth in the wind, and I nearly fall out of my seat, and everyone else goes crashing around. I guess that's what happens when the airplane seats are too small. I grab onto Agatha, and pull her back into a seat. As the plane speeds up, it feels like an invisible hand is pulling on my, and my mouth opens and my lips fly back, and I try to scream, but sound like a garbage disposal. Then things get really weird when the plane does a three sixty and I barf upwards. Since all things that go up must come down, it lands with a splat in my lap. The captain announces that we will, hopefully, land soon. Thank god, because I can't take take much more of this. SCREECH go the wheels, and it sounds like an angry whale. The wheels are down. There is another screeching noise, but it comes from the left side of the plane. The wing is coming off. We need to land, like now. Suddenly, there is hope. A town is seen over in the horizon. It's so beautiful, like a desktop background, or an E card that people who hate each other send. At least it's getting a lot closer. Actually, we might be going dangerously fast. The loose plane wing is cracking more. I think I might pass out next to Johnette. With a dramatic snap, the wing flies off, spinning like a someone waltzing. Miraculously, that seems to save us, since the planes remaining wing goes crazy and we nearly stop in midair. That was a very short term solution, as the plane starts to spiral downwards, I can hear the captain cursing as he wrestles with the controls to try and take control of the plane. He rag wins some control and the plane start to make a shallow turn towards the distant town. The pilot makes a sickening cycle;wait until the plane is at a point in its spiral when it is closest to the town, and then does a sharp turn towards the horizon, then repeat. People are vomiting everywhere, and I see Agatha hit a window and the snap of her neck. She falls, lifeless to the ceiling of the plane. That triggered something. For the first time since my opium addiction, I actually feel sad. I feel sad for my dad, and for all the people who died in the attack, and I feel...clarity. Wait, where are you going? Why are you fading away? Please don't leave, father. I need you.
Teresa wondered where her father, Vladimir had gone, why he wasn't in her head for her to talk to anymore. Now is not the time for such thoughts, however. She had to survive. Fortunately for her, there are parachutes in the plane. Grabbing one, she throws it on and prepares to leap from the plane. She walks over to the door, and unlocks it. The vortex created by the wind and speed rips the door open and Teresa is flung out, like a human cannonball. She tells herself "you can do this. YOU CAN DO THIS!" Using hundred mile per hour winds to your advantage is extremely difficult, but Teresa has used a wing suit before, so how different is this? After nearly a minute, she pulls the parachute out and slows down.Now to wait to reach the ground. Before she reaches the ground, she makes a plan of where she will go to reach the village. She lands, flawlessly, and begins her journey.
Teresa walks the whole night and into the morning....
Thanking her lucky stars, Teresa finally makes it to the small town, exhausted, dehydrated and starving. She can thank her stars again since the Cyprusians are so generous and welcoming. Her watch verifies her identification, and off she goes to Cyprus City, with a dream of healthy a fast food restaurant, nine and a half billion dollars cash, and finally, no baobab addiction.
Epilogue
The baobab, a powerful drug caused Teresa to imagine her father, dead from a heart failure, as a voice in her head. Teresa made her restaurant, but it failed the first twelve times. Finally, on the thirteenth try and one billion dollars into it, she made a fast food chain that took off internationally. Today, it is worth nearly one hundred billion dollars, and she makes nearly a billion dollars a year. She gives most of it up, and lives just above poverty, in a studio apartment. She does occasionally take a ridiculously expensive trip, however. In 2146, She became the first woman ever to travel back in time, at the age of eighteen, landing in 1928. She took to a life of poverty, helping the poor in India. She died in 1997, and several years later, she was sainted.
