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Are you making the right decisions in your life?

darkened micheal2007
Community Member
Gala looked around her. "A train?" she muttered. "What the hell am I doing on a train?" It was nice, beautifully furbished in gold and red, everything seemed fuzzy though, as if she didn't have her contacts in right. A man rushed pass her and into another car. He looked like an attendant. Gala grimaced and looked down. Yep, she was wearing attendants clothing too.

The man came rushing back out of the car, then stopped in front of her. He seemed very...agitated. "That man is near impossible!" he cried. He tossed Gala a menu before saying "Here! You can have him to serve!" and storming off.

Gala gulped. "Here we go..." she said quietly as she made her way to the next car.

As she entered she stopped. As if she had thought the car she had stepped out of was fancy, this car looked like a presidential suite on wheels! A man stood in the middle of it, more like paced. He wore a black trench coat and a wide brimmed black hat. He looked at her. Uh! she thought And he's old too!

He smiled a little, before resettling him face back into a grim look. "You must be that servers replacement..." he said. Gala gulped and nodded. He pointed at the small bathroom. "Something has clogged the sink, please find out what."

She nodded and hurriedly made her way to the bathroom. She looked at the sink and stepped back. "It's clogged with..."

"Dirt...I know..." he finished. He seemed completely unfazed by Gala's glare. "Here...' he said, handing her a small spoon.

Gala gave the spoon an incredulous look, took it, and started digging the dirt out. She stopped when the spoon hit something. She reached into the drain, grimacing, and pulled out a tiny chest. The man took it from her. "What is that?" she asked.

"Shh, now child. You have passed my test." he opened the chest and took out what appeared to be a ceramic frog with a small knife in it's mouth. Gala stared.

"What the...?" Gala managed to say before he grabbed her left arm. "No! wait!
Gala woke up, gasping. She clutched her left arm as she grimaced. "What the heck was that all about?!" she said quietly. Her arm hurt! Slowly and quietly she got up, still holding her arm. She made her way to the bathroom, lifted her sleeve on her left arm and gasped.

A tattoo that looked like half a skull with fangs was now imprinted on her shoulder. She dropped the sleeve quickly. "What does it mean...?" she asked herself quietly. She jumped when someone banged on the door.

"Galandriel, you open this door right now!" her mother yelled. Gala sighed, opened the door and moved to the side as her mother rushed in. Gala slid out as her mother reached to slam the door.

She quickly made her way back to her room, fuming. She hated her mother in the mornings, and always wished her mother didn't need 3 coffees everyday to smile. She quickly pulled on a pair of jeans, a belt, a black tee, some mismatched arm socks, and grabbed her hairbrush. She huffed as she pulled the brush through her maroon hair. She smeared black makeup around her eyes and lipstick on her lips. She grabbed her bike lock and keys and ran out of the house before her mother could say anything.

Her bike waited for her next to elevator, as it always did. The bums who lived in the apartment buildings knew exactly what she would do to them if she didn't find it when she needed it.

After exiting the apartments, she raced the cars down the highway, making her way to the only person she had ever trusted. An old woman, a wiccan by the name of Sarabeth. She locked her bike on Sara's fence and walked up to the door. She knocked three times, hesitated, then knocked once more. Sarabeth had told her that when ever Gala really needed to see her, that was the knock she was to use.

Sarabeth opened the door quietly, a worried expression on her aged features. She led Gala in then closed the door. Gala turned to face her. "You haven't used that knock since..." Sarabeth began.

Gala looked at Sarabeth. "I'm worried Sarabeth. You told me tell you whenever I had a dream that felt real, that could effect me, have I ever got a big one for you!" she finished exasperated. As she told Sarabeth about the dreams, she grew worried as Sarabeth's expression grew more grim.

Sarabeth reached out to Gala's arm and pulled up the sleeve. She gasped, stepped back, and collapsed in her arm chair. She started to cry. "No, no, no, no, no, no...." she said repeatedly.

Gala looked at her worriedly. "What? What is it? Sarabeth?" she asked pleadingly.

Sarabeth looked sorrowfully into Gala's eyes. "You've been marked by a reaper!"

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