The Fangirl's Fictional Crush {Raphael 2012 X OC} [DISCONTINUED]

CHAPTER 1: "Another Dull Day" (Edited)

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Arigatou minna ^ω^

(This chapter has been revised and edited. The old version of this chapter will no longer be seen or read. I’m still open to change a few things here and there just in case.)

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(Irrelevant by Lauren Aquilina)

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Please enjoy!

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[Alexandra's PoV]

The darkness that swallowed me flinched, opening up a small line. A sliver of light phased through it, gradually growing until I awaken myself. My head feels like its in turmoil, spinning my field of vision. I had to hold my forehead steady to make out where I was.

Book, notebooks, and pieces of paper adorned some places on the floor. Clothes were dispersed out of the closet, hanging on the chairs. Blankets ruffled up in a pile, leaving my legs bear the cold atmosphere.

It’s my home.

I stood up from the mess I laid down on and I can’t believe I called a “bed.” Scratching the back of my neck, I neared the window pane. I unlocked the window, opening it and inhaling the smell of New York, smoke.

Great…

“Ehe.. Ehe… Ugh!”, I coughed out the suffocating substance out of my system.

I glanced at the alley below me, feeling a bit nostalgic about it for no odd reason. The cold breeze suddenly comes out of nowhere, fiddling its way through my uncombed hair, as if it was grooming it for me.

BZZZZZTTTT!!!!! BZZZTTT!!!

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out, only to hear my morning alarm going off with my ringtone.

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES!
TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES!
TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES!

HEROES IN A HALL SHELL!
TURTLE POWER!

I smiled at the catchy intro, giving me the littlest of good vibes. I turned it off and placed it in reset. Yup. That's right. I'm a certified “Half Shell Brain.” But mysteriously, everyone loves to call me “Nertle” instead. They said it had a better sound to it, since I was a quite slow but intelligent nerd. Similar to how they’d put it, I was as slow as a “turtle.”

The thought of me being slow flashed back memories in my mind. My parents' faces came in view, beaming me with the best smile that they could put up while I desperately tried to answer my homework. The laughs that they let out when I tried to read Kanji texts but then ultimately failed in the end.

Yup, those were good times.

And then, their plane crash. One day, they said they had to leave New York and head back to Japan for two days to fix some “unsettled business.” They promised that they’d come back right after.

How wrong I was.

Two days passed. Nothing. No knocks, doorbells or anything. But I kept on waiting for them to return.

Seven days.

Did they really want to go back?

Ten days.

Did they forget about me?

Fourteen days.

Did they even love me at all?