The Lost City of Atlantis

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Dedicated to @H3A7H3R16, @supgirl3000 and @DandelionDesu for waiting patiently for this update (and for being my only commenters!) I would have actually dedicated it all of you, but I could only dedicate it to one person. Is that supposed to happen? Hope you enjoy it!

Three hours of galloping later, I lie in the hot tub letting the warm bubbles wash over my hot, exhausted and sweaty body. I shudder. Sweat is so unladylike and revolting. The only reason is ride is for the thrill and sense of freedom - pure bliss.

As I'm stepping out of the tub, my blackberry beeps. Wrapping myself in a soft, Egyptian cotton towel, I check the message.

"Make sure you dress tastefully, sweetie x"

Were you supposed to dress nicely to the slums? Wouldn't the unprivileged get jealous? Sighing, I change into Diane Von Furstenberg's latest outfit. I didn't want it to get tainted, but mommy could always buy me another one after our visit. It would serve her right for always treating me like a six year old.

I decide to drive myself and soon arrive at the overpopulated village. Gingerly stepping out of my Cadillac, I spot mommy crouching down in the dirt in front of a handful of skeletons. Flinching inwardly, I walk over to her and blanch as I narrowly avoid stepping in a pile of steaming faeces.

"One hour," I hiss, "and then I'm out of here."

An hour later finds us at the Diamond bar, the most exclusive bar in the whole of the East. I sit stoically and watch as mommy downs a whole bottle of their very best champagne. This is her ritual. Every time after participating in something to do with the poor and helpless, she drowns herself in alcohol. Like as if she is trying to quell her conscience, making sure it doesn't overpower her.

"Preshush..." She slurs. She never calls me by my name - Briana Leigh Covington - always "precious", "darling" or "sweetie".

I sigh. Knowing what's coming next.

"Preshush..." She begins again, "you know I lurrrrv you... It's not yourrr fault daddy's dead."

Her eyes fill with tears and I reach out to her. "He's not dead mommy, he'll come back."

She smiles fleetingly before turning to her drink, only to find it empty. Snapping her fingers for another one, she braces herself on her chair before shouting. "It'sh yourrr fault! You knowww where he ish..." The rest is incoherent but she lunges at me, her eyes wild with vehemence.

I stand up, nearly knocking my chair over and announce that I'm leaving. She is old enough to look after herself. Walking away, I hear her drunken shouting fade and my heart clenches with pity and sadness.

After driving around relentlessly, I stop. Realising, with growing numbness, that I am lost. I also realise that the gas is dwindling and if I don't reach home soon, I'll be left stranded in the middle of God-knows-where. Stepping out of the car, I take in my surroundings. Barren landscape stretching as far as the horizon, with nothing but a broken down building in front of me. I decide to take my chances and, locking my car, I walk towards it.

Feeling as though I've stepped into another world, I stand still, trying to grow accustomed to the musty smell lingering in the air. I wish I'd stayed with mommy, at least the conditions - albeit uncomfortable - would have been better than this shack. I try not to step in any of the gaps in the floor, though it would be easier trying not to step on any of the laser beams protecting the Crown Jewels.

Suddenly, I'm pulled backwards. I stifle a scream and, expecting to meet a lurid and vicious creature, hesitantly turn around - only to find that I had snagged my gorgeous dress in between the grimy timber making up the wall. Pulling my dress free, I stride towards a desk in the middle of the chamber.

There, underneath tons of dust, lies a parchment. Grimacing, I use the hem of my dress to free the dust and smile elatedly as I recover a map. My grin soon turns into a frown however, as I look down and realise that there is a dark stain covering most of it. Oh well, I think to myself, at least it's not completely covered. I stoop closer to read the inscribed writing on the exposed fragment, but it has faded away. I sigh in frustration and lean my elbows on the table, my head in my hands. A single tear sluices down my cheek and drips onto the impractical map. With a start, I realise that the water is spreading across the intact part of the map of its own accord. I scrutinise the words that are appearing on the paper.

The City of Atlantis - reachable only by calling this number. Not by any other means.

Underneath the imposing message is a number. My hopes rise. Wiping my tears, I key in the number and hold the phone up to my ear. I'm met with silence. My hopes crash. I knew that it was no use ringing some ancient company. It may even be some childish prank that someone played centuries ago. Even if the company did exist, the workers would all probably be dead by now anyway. After all, the map was layered with heaps of dust.

Slowly, I bring the phone round to end the call and find, with astonishment and hilarity, that I had not even started the call! I stab the call button and, crossing my fingers, wait for someone to pick up. Just as I am starting to lose faith again, a cranky voice answers, mumbling something as a way of greeting. I nearly dance with delight and ask to be taken to the "City of Atlantis". The person sounds surprised to hear my request and says something about how the last passenger he had dropped off was eight years ago, with the passenger being an adult male, not a weak female. Cackling to himself, he cuts off the phone.

I am so overjoyed that I do not even snap at him, accepting his eccentricity as a trait. I walk over to my car, park it next to the run-of-the-mill building and lock it, taking out the necessities. Intending to collect it later after food, rest and directions - not to forget fuel.