My life is made up of words on paper, and I am only ever seen in one’s imagination. It is always Ms. White who writes my story. She’s the one who shaped and moulds every minute of my life.
According to Ms. White, my name is Max Wells, I’m 17, and I have superpowers; I was basically the hero of the stories Ms. White writes. My destiny is to save the world or help save it or something like that. I’m also supposed to have this girlfriend, but I’m only supposed to love her. Lilly was a pretty girl and she was real nice, too, but she was just a reminder that I’m fake and fictional and that I’m supposed to follow the plot that Ms. White writes.
I’ve always wanted to be my own person. Never have I ever felt that I could, though. I was always supposed to be Max Wells, Destined Hero of the Universe, but to me it felt like I was Max Wells, Entertainer for Young-Adult-Science-Fiction Enthusiasts. Nothing more, nothing less.
And I hated it. Oh my Gods, how I hated it. It felt like Ms. White was abusing me for her own wealth and fame. Number One New York Times Bestseller, screw that. But no matter how much I could swear or complain or rage about it, I am only ever fictional to them. Someone who would only exist their human minds, someone to pity, someone to love, but someone they would never meet. Now as a hero, this is going to sound awfully selfish, but that was something I wished to the Gods above that I could change.
Because I met someone. I met a Real girl. And oh, is she beautiful. In my story, I am always surrounded by people who help in my journey, but I have only ever felt expelled and exiled. I’ve always wanted to feel and be human, and I felt like I could be that with China. Yes, her name is China. China Browning.
She’s a big fan of Ms. White’s works and she’s read all the books in my series. She sympathizes with me, all the pain I feel in my stories, as if she herself had lost her parents. As if she herself felt power raging through her real human veins.
I would see China’s face from where I am in my book, and her beautiful porcelain face would change expressions with the events and plot twists of my ever so heart-wrenching story. At times she would cry out in happiness, fists pumping the air in victory. Other times, she would sit and stare blankly at the pages, tears rolling slowly down her face.
China would always re-read the stories, too, like a grandchild crawling onto the lap of their grandparent, eager to listen to stories of their past, no matter how many times they’ve heard it. She would giddily open her battered copy of my story, like how she’d done the very first time she’d read my story.
She was amazingly smart and funny and just wonderful. I decided one day that I just had to break the plot of my story, or what you guys call 'The Fourth Wall', to meet her.
Now, breaking the plot of the story you’re in is a hard process. I’d never really had a strong enough reason to before, so I’d never tried it, but now I do have a reason.
The process requires a lot of strength and a lot of willpower. Every Fictional World usually has a Portal to the Real Human World in any way, shape, or form. Even if the creator of that world didn’t write one in, it will have naturally formed by itself over time. I already knew where my nearest one was. I’d stumbled upon it in the early days of the creation of Ms. White’s Fictional World, Aretha.
The Arethan Portal is really just a massive lake at the oasis on the barren desert Ms. White calls my planet. You fall in, you find yourself coming out into the Real Human World.
I looked into the reflective waters of the lake, digging my boots into the sand. It looked like a mirror of the sky, showing the contrast of the brilliant stars and the three crescent-shaped moons against the dark sky.
I saw no need to hold my breath, so I simply closed my eyes and fell forward into the lake, thinking of China the whole time.
When I opened my eyes, I found that the Portal had already sent me where I needed to go. I automatically knew this was her house because when I played in her mind, I would catch glimpses of her other thoughts. Like, maybe the exterior of her house.
I am outside the door. I raised my clenched fist, about to knock, but then I hesitate.
Gods above, what if she freaks out? I’m a Fictional Character. She’s probably going to faint or something. Oh, Gods, I did not think this through. Huh.
Oh, well, I do so want to meet her, so maybe having her faint or scream or cry won’t be that bad.
I let go of my inhibitions and knock on the big white door. It swung open, revealing China Browning in cute unicorn pyjamas.
“My parents are still sleeping.” China said, tiredly, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She looked up at me, and her eyes widened. She gave me a full head to toe and her pouty little lips fell open.
“M-Max Wells?”
