From The First Spawn

Chapter 1

Anastasia's POV

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"Will someone please help me! I'm being chased by a hoard of about two dozen creepers! God! I'll even give you all my diamonds!"

As soon as those words were out of my mouth, I cringed in an oh-my-god-why-the-hell-did-I-say-that way. I brushed my long neon blue hair out of my face and glared at my laptop screen. It's holy light of gaming illuminated my darker than night room. My mom is always complaining about how it damages my eyesight but I dont really give a shit, after all... it's my eyesight.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. Thankfully, no one on this server knows me IRL, in real life. As far as they are concerned, I'm just some gamer girl. And I prefer for it to stay that way.

But back to the creepers. Now, I know  how to survive in minecraft, like seriously, it's not that hard. But when you are being chased by about two dozen creepers you kinda realize that unless you get help ASAP your kinda doomed. Dont judge me! In my opinion, only a mod, a moderator, a server owner, or a serious pro can defeat that much creepers without dying or coming close to it.

And sadly, I'm neither of those. Though, I am working towards the last one.

I despertly poked the spacebar to make my character sprint, but those blasted creepers still wouldn't leave me alone. And of course my mod friend couldn't simply type the command to delete the ridiculous amount of creepers in one place from the server. I swear I could hear him laughing through my earpiece!!

  I groaned and turned my character around to face the creepers that probably spawned in the deepest, darkest, depths of the nether. And yes this is probably suicide, but seriously, I don't really give a damn.

"Hey Alexander," I said in a sickly sweet voice that I only use when I

really want someone to do something for me. Gah, there is a reason why I almost never use this voice. It makes me want to barf.

"can you please collect my inventory in my inevitable and humiliating death and give it back to me when I respawn?" I mentally facepalmed myself at the request. I know it's weird and all that but I don't like, ok hate, asking people to do something for me. It makes me feel weak.

And the only thing I hate more than sexist male pigs or algebra teachers, is feeling weak.

"Sure thing tasia!" Alexander's voice crackled through my headphones. Yaay. Let's just hope he dosen't decide to "lose" the 2 diamonds I had recently mined, which eventually got me to the le creepers.

  I quickly looked around my dark room to see which item in my messy room has a greater chance of surviving if I throw it against my door in a rage quit. Yes, I rage quit. No, it's not just guy gamers who rage quit. Yes, I know some people will find that strange.

Seeing nothing that wouldn't break, I turned my attention back to my laptop screen and Minecraft. I checked my inventory, and clicked on the only weapon I had. Not a diamond sword, not a budder sword, not even a friggin stone sword... no, it was a bloody wooden sword! Like that's going to be any good against twenty-four creepers.

I groaned (jeez, I seem to be doing that alot lately) and raised the stupid, stupid sword against those bloody creatures of doom.

"Tssssss...." went about half the creepers. I squinted my eyes, leaned in closer to my screen, and despertly looked around the biome that I was in. An arrow whizzed by and hit another creeper, setting the rest of the creepers off.

What the bloody hell?!??? I thought to myself in pure and utter confusion. My friends and I have this code, and part of it is that if we get ourselves in danger, we ain't dragging the others into it. "If you got yourself in a mess, you got yourself in a mess."

But of course, when it comes to noobs, we can drag them into whatever mess we want.

"Alexander, Bianca, Aaron," I hastily said into the mic, confusion laced and weaved throughout my voice. "was that archer any of you?" I started my character to sprint, praying, no hoping, that by some miracle bestowed on my character by the all miraculous powers of Notch and Mojang, I would be out of the way of the inevitable blast caused by that stupid archer.

But it was to no avail. Five seconds later, the creepers exploded in their annoying boom of death. Kinda like the cannons in the Hunger Games but more you know, doom.

The deep realization of who had saved me sinked in just as the game over screen faded over the main screen.

Oh. My. God. I thought to myself, mentally face palming for not realizing it earlier. I was saved by a...

"NOOB!!" Screamed Bianca through my headphones. I winced, only someone like me would get annoyed at a girl halfway across the world.

"Ana was saved by a noob!!" Bianca taunted. I gritted my teeth and hissed into the mic in a way that would scare the most wild alley cats.

"I was not 'saved'! That stupid noob thought he was so tough, but instead killed me. That is not saving!"

I quickly signed out, without my usual goodbyes of course. Who cares what some girl in Germany thinks? I slammed my headphones onto my closed laptop and fell backwards onto my bed.

At least I brought that noob down with me... probably.

I sighed and turned my head over to look at the Jack Skellington alarm clock that sat smack dab in the middle of my crowded bedside table. Who knew bottles of black, blue, and silver nail polish could take up so much room?

I groaned as I spotted the time through my curtain of blue hair. 6:59, shit. In exactly, oh about, thirty seconds my little sister will wake up and start yelling and whining about something. But hey, you have to give the girl some credit.. she has variety on what she complains about.

5...4...3...2...1...

"ANASTASIA!!" The incarnation of the spawn of satan called from her pink (ugh) room.

"HAVE YOU SEEN MY WHITE SHIRT!! YOU BETTER NOT HAVE WORN IT!!" Alexis stomped over to my room and glared at me from the doorway.

While I have long neon blue hair, black clothes, and black leather boots, Alexis is the exact opposite. Her dyed barbie neon pink hair, skirts, and at least four inch high heels (ankle breakers!) make it hard for people to belive that we are related.

I stared at my ceiling and muttered to her,

"It's in the laundry room, remember dumbo? Mum put it there when she saw the stain that I have yet to explain how it really got there."

Alexis gasped. "You wouldn't dare!"

I just shrugged apatheticly. "And how do you know?"

"Anastasia! I hate you!"

I gave a small, sad, inward smile as she walked away. Yup, we are definetly the best type of sisters. I blew the hair out of my face and rolled off the bed, and started shuffling towards the kitchen. I needed to grab an orange before the little sister of doom grabbed the last one.

So far today; I was saved by a noob, yelled at one of my few friends, and my sister hates me... again.

Oh, did I mention it's a monday?

Fuck my life.