Existential Fiction

Chapter 2: The Impossible Girl

When I woke up, I slipped into my fuzzy pinkish blackish whitish slippers, and removed myself from my bed. In doing this, I accidentally stepped on the book I was reading. At first, I felt sorry that I did such a horrible thing. But secondly, I remembered the even more horrible thing that that author did. For shame. I picked up the book and hid it behind my nightstand. It doesn't deserve to be finished.

"Don't do that!" A familiar voice said.

I turned around slowly, and the thing - well, person - that caught my eye was Clara Oswin Oswald. I didn't know what to do.

"Have you gotten to chapter eleven yet? You'll cry your eyes out." I must be hallucinating.

I just stood there. I couldn't move. This just can't be happening. "Clara?" I asked. I didn't know what else to say. She's not supposed to be real. Maybe it's Jenna Coleman! Yes! That's the perfect explanation. I now expected her to respond laughing with "No, it's Jenna! But I play Clara."

But that is not what happened.

I glanced over at my nightstand, where my phone and a few others things lay. One of the few other things was a Series Seven DVD of Doctor Who. On the cover was previously Rory Williams, Amelia Pond, the eleventh Doctor, and Clara Oswald. Now, it was just Rory Williams, Amelia Pond, and the eleventh Doctor. Clara was not on the cover. No, she's in my room. I took note that the Clara in my room and the Clara previously on the cover were dressed the same. "Yes?" Clara answered. This is too much for me to handle. Not only was I in my pajamas with bad bedhead in fuzzy slippers, I was in my pajamas with bad bedhead in fuzzy slippers with a fictional character only feet apart from me. I had so many questions to ask after my shock went away.

"C-clara?" I asked again, utterly speechless. This just doesn't make sense. "Yes?" She answered again, looking at me like I was sort of crazy. "H-how did this happen?" I inquired.

Then I woke up. Man, it was just getting interesting. Funny how a two minute dream covers eight hours of sleep. 

I rubbed my eyes and stayed there in bed for a few minutes, just debating if I should go back to sleep or actually participate in the day. I think I should actually participate, considering it is 10:37am now anyways. Thank goodness for the weekends. I have no idea what I'd do without them. (Shrivel up and die, probably.)

*

I think that there is some magical sense about hearing the birds chirp in the morning while sipping tea that you can't really replace with anything else. Just taking in what has been created. The birds, the trees, the smells, the sights, just...everything. Taking in the morning (or in my case, late morning) is just an undescribable feeling. I can't even try to explain it.

As I sipped my peppermint tea, I looked out the window and noticed a girl. She was jump roping. I noticed her lips moving; mumbling of sorts. She seemed to be counting her jumps. I tried to make it out, but it's too indistinct to tell. 

The girl stopped jump roping and sighed annoyedly. "Sarah!" Her assumed mom called her on her cell phone. She responded in a different language. I was surprised. She didn't look foreign. "Sarah! Don't go talkin' Greek on me!" I laughed to myself. Funny choice of language. She set down her jump rope and wound it up as she started walking away. Probably home. "Mom! It's not Greek. It's..." From then, it was too hard to make out what she was saying.

I'm surprised I could hear that conversation. At least, the mom part of it. Hm. 

"Ow!" A voice called. A voice that sounded like Sarah's. "I'm okay!" I laughed softly. Not because she got hurt, but because I do the exact same thing when I get hurt. 

I soon finished my tea and put it in the sink. As I did so, I noticed a sticky note on the counter near the sink. It read:

Danielle - I ran out to take Buddy and Max to the vet. Nothing big. Just a checkup.

Oh yeah. She told me she'd do that this morning last night. I guess she figured I wouldn't have remembered. (She was right.)

I went back into my room and grabbed my phone and computer, and sat on the couch. I first questioned if I should get dressed and stuff before assuming my Tumblr position. I decided no.

Scrolling. Scrolling. Scrolling. I shuffled my mix of happy Sara Bareilles songs and played it. The first song that played was Little Black Dress. I sang along to the lyrics and danced around the room as soon as I finished scrolling through my dashboard. This song got me through a friendship break up. 

When it finished, I played it again. Mid song, my cell phone rang. I read it. It was Brooke. "Helloooo?" I answer. "Hey! Can I come over?" She asked. I pondered the question for a bit. She seemed anxious. "Um, let me call my mom and ask her." I said. 

I did, and my mom said yes. I called Brooke back. "Yeah. Can I just get dressed first?" I bit my lip. "Sure. I have to too." She said. "Alright. Talk to you later." "You too. I have something important to tell you."

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Sorry it took so long to update. I was fustrated with Tumblr trying to change my theme and stuff. Plus, I have normal life going on.

I have a lot of characters I have to fulfill, so until further notice, please don't request to be a character! I will (try to) add all the characters thath have already been requested. Okay. Thanks for being patient. 

I dedicate this chapter to Brooke (and anyone else) for waiting so patiently.

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CHARACTERS

Protagonist - ukelle.tumblr.com | instagram.com/lemurswift

Sarah - instagram.com/gonnagotoabridalshower

Brooke - talesofadivashipper.tumblr.com | thatdorknamedbrooke on Wattpad