The Adventures of Bradley and the Witch of Zo

this totally original story was written in pen on a notebook, which means it has never been revised, edited, or in anyway improved from its original state. Even the bits written while soaking in a hot tub while under the influence of lack of sleep. 

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely intentional. 

PART I

Once upon a time there was a teenager named Bradley. The narrator knew that the teenager’s name was not actually Bradley but had decided to do that on purpose just because Bradley didn’t like it. The narrator’s brother suggested that the narrator change his name to e-bradley to sound cool. The narrator wants to stick with Bradley for the sake of the good ole’ days. Anyway, this teenager named Bradley had a little sister named kel kel, a mom named brad’s mom, and a dad named brad’s dad. He also had some other family members but the narrator isn’t familiar with them so the narrator will leave them out. He also had some really annoying friends named “the freshmen”. He also had a wonderful, beautiful, amazing and famous friend who was also a dragon. And was also definitely not the narrator. The teenager named Bradley was required by California State law to go to school. So he did. Wait actually he was 18 so it wasn’t required but he did anyway. One day, Bradley was walking to class. He was going to his zero period econ class, which started at 7:00 AM. (Scribbled out writing) (The narrator is sorry, the narrator has just figured out the plat and had to cross out vital plot info). Bradley stepped out of his car and looked at his watch. It read 6:45.

“Great,” thought Bradley. “I’ll finally be on time today!”

Bradley walked down the road and turned the corner onto the access road at the top of the stairs, he hesitated. This was the part he hated the most. The large flight of stairs were steep and dangerous. It was too easy to stumble off and fall into another dimension. Already 5 kids had disappeared off these stairs, never to be seen again. They made Bradley nervous. He took a deep breath of air and carefully started his way down. He placed each foot down with care, clutching the banister with both hands. On the fifth stair down, his foot slipped and Bradley jerked forward. The force of the fall ripped his hands from the railing and he went tumbling down the steps head first. Bradley hit his head against a step and the world went black.

Bradley woke up with sunlight streaming onto his face. His fall had been broken by a soft patch of moss, which he was now lying in. Trees arched above him, stretching their branches out towards the soft sunlight. The air was full of birdsong and little flakes of light drifting lazily past.

“Great,” said Bradley out loud. “Not again!”

Bradley sat up. He immediately wished he hadn’t. His head was achingly something awful and he was overcome with a rush of dizziness. Bradley clutched his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut until it passed. Then he carefully opened his eyes.

He was no longer at AHS. He was in an alternate dimension.

Bradley sighed and slowly picked himself up from the mossy floor of the forest. This happened to him every single day, and he was getting a little sick of it. His backpack lay on the ground where he had left it. He picked it up and put it

Looking around, there was no clear direction to head. No path, no nothing, except trees. Bradley figured he might as well start walking, so he picked a direction away from the sun, so that the light wouldn’t bother his eyes. As he walked, Bradley considered how he’d get back out this mess and back to Agoura. From past experience, nothing would work twice here. The magic mirror, the cave of mysteries, the badger of portals – nothing would work. He had to figure this out from scratch. Now where was that dragon?

“Hey Bradcakes,” said a voice behind him. “Good to see yah again!”

“Ah, there she is,” thought Bradley, and turned around.

Facing him was a beautiful and glorious blue dragon, the wonder of the world, revered and respected, and who was definitely not the narrator.

“Hi, haddah,” Bradley said in greeting. “What’s up?”

“Oh, you know, this and that,” said the dragon who is not the narrator. “You got a haircut. I like it.”

Bradley felt his hair. It was short now, and he was proud of how he had spiked it up to make it look like tintin.

“So how am I gonna get out of here this time?” he asked.

“Oh Geeze,” said the dragon who is not the narrator. “I have no clue. But while you’re thinking about it, why don’t you help me out?”

“Sure, with what?”

“I need help with lunch. I have a recipe that calls for a heart. Nothing sketchy, just a chicken heart. They have good texture. Anyway, the only person that I know of who has a chicken heart is the witch of Zo.”

“That sounds really familiar,” said Bradley.

“I swear it’s totally original,” said the dragon who is not the narrator. “Anyway, we need to follow the rainbow cloud highway until we get to the Village of Zo.”

“Why do you need my help? Is the witch of Zo evil and need defeating or something? Asked Bradley.

“Oh no, she’s cool. I just can’t fit through the door. You know, being a dragon and all,” replied the dragon who is not the narrator.

“Cool,” said Bradley, and away they went.

As they approached a clearing, Bradley said, “Hey, isn’t there supposed to be munchkins?”

The dragon who is not the narrator looked appalled.

“What are you talking about? This story is totally original! Besides, munchkins is a derogatory term. Really, I expected better from you.”

“Sorry,” said Bradley.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them rumbled. The trees shook, then moved. The forest around them was suddenly coming alive. Bradley squinted up in to the foliage and realized the trees were actually terrible giants!

“Neat,” he said.

As the forest of giants settled down, the closest one began talking. The earth shook from the power if its deep voice, and all other noises became insignificant.

“Yo dude, ‘sup,” it said. “We ain’t gonna do much, ‘cept show you dawgs the rainbow cloud highway.”

He (Bradley supposed it was a he; he wasn’t too well versed in giant.) Pointed off into the forest, where a rainbow appeared, stretching out into the trees.

“So yeah, I guess we done here. See yah.”

“Wait!” shouted Bradley. “Aren’t you supposed to do something else, like sing a song about a witch being dead? Or at least dance?”

“Yo, man, that’s sick. We don’t dance. And their ain’t no witch dead here. So what’s the problem?”

“I dunno, I just thought you’d do something more.”

“Man, the narrator (who is not the dragon) just put us in cuz it fits with the totally original plot.”

“Oh. Okay. Bye then,” said Bradley.

“Word,” said the giant. It flashed a “live long and prosper” sign and tromped off.

Bradley and the dragon who is not the narrator turned towards the rainbow cloud highway. Bradley turned towards the dragon who is not the narrator.

“Do we have to sing and skip?”

“Nah, I’ll the singing. I’ve heard your voice,” said the dragon who is not the narrator.

They began walking below the rainbow cloud highway, making their way deeper into the forest. The dragon who is not the narrator began singing “Let it go! Let it go! Can’t hold it back anymore! Let it go! Let it go! Turn away and slam the door!”

Bradley and the dragon who is not the narrator walked along through the forest o the sound of the dragon who is not the narrator’s singing. The forest soon became dense and large boulders were frequently in the way of the travelers. Birds and animals screeched above them in the dark trees. At times, the rainbow cloud highway turned misty and difficult to see. Bradley and the dragon who is not the narrator picked their way along carefully. As they came along a particularly dark bend in the road, they heard a soft mumbling coming from behind a nearby rock.

“What do you suppose that is?” asked the dragon who is not the narrator.

“Ith juth me,” said a voice. “juth poor old e-gor, looking for a brain for hith matter!”

The speaker had a heavy lisp and was difficult to make out.

“Show yourself!” said Bradley, bravely.

“E-gor will thow himthelf,” said the self-proclaimed e-gor. A short, hunched back figured waddled out from behind the rock.

“Hi,” said Bradley. “What are you doing here?”

“e-gor mutht find a brain for hith matter. Do either of you have brains?”

Bradley and the dragon who is not the narrator looked at each other. “No,” they said simultaneously.

“Darn,” said e-gor.

“If you want to, you can come with us. Haddah, the dragon who is not the narrator, is looking for a chicken heart from the witch of Zo. Would a chicken brain work?” Bradley said.

“I geth tho,” said e-gor.

“Bradley!” hissed the dragon who is not the narrator. “What are you doing? This is crazy! He can’t come with us!”

“Why not?” said Bradley. “It would be mean to just leave him here. Besides, that’s how the story goes.”

“Fine. And I told you, this is a totally original plot line.”

The odd group walked on through the forest. E-gor kept trying to join in on the singing, which made the dragon who is not the narrator fairly irritated. Bradley was also super annoyed, but he never said anything about it. Eventually, after many trials of hardships and daring feats of bravery on Bradley’s part, none of which the narrator has the patience to write about (just know they were pretty epic), the trio reached the edge of the forest. A vast plane of tall golden grass stretched out before them. The grass rippled in the waves in the warm wind and a sweet smell filled the sense of the enraptured trio. (how’s that for alliteration?)

“Neat,” said Bradley.

Bradley, the dragon who is not the narrator, and e-gor stepping into the field and began to push their way through. The grass was very thick and the stalks were very firm. There was no path, other than where the rainbow cloud highway lead. Making their way through was difficult. Bradley had to work hard to separate the stalks so he could walk.

As they made their way across, Bradley began to feel strange. It was as though the very air he breathed was drugged. The smell of the grass was overpowering him. He was suddenly very, very wide awake.

“oh my goodness Bradley this grass is so amazing it’s so much fun oh I love it look at the sky it’s so blue and all the clouds look so fluffy if I flap my arms do you think I can fly here lemme try I bet I can this is so exciting I love it I love it I love it hahahahahahahaha”

The dragon who is not the narrator was going berserk. Bradley laughed. He felt giddy.

“Remind me never to give you caffeine, haddah!” he said.

“That’s what this is,” said e-gor. He was entirely unaffected by the smell. “It’s a caffeine transmitted by the smell of the grass. Let’s get out of here or you’ll be too tired when you get out of here. I wouldn’t be surprised if haddah had a dependency on the stuff already.”

“Good idea,” said Bradley. He felt great. “Hey haddah, start running.”

The dragon who is not the narrator began sprinting in a frenzied dash (wait dragons can fly oh well.)

Bradley watched the dragon who is not the narrator disappear into the forest on the edge of the caffeine field.

About an hour later. Bradley and e-gor stepped out of the field and into the forest. Bradley immediately felt the effects of the airborne caffeine wearing off.

“The problem is,” said e-go, “finding haddah.”

“She shouldn’t be that far away,” said Bradley, feeling more depressed by the second. “If she’s feeling at all like how I’m feeling.”

The duo walked slowly through the forest. The rainbow cloud highway glittered above them. It was all Bradley could do to keep going. He felt so bad, in fact, that he didn’t even notice the broken and splintered tree limbs and the harsh marks in the mossy floor.

e-gor was just as sharp as ever, which isn’t really saying much, but hey. He pointed this out to Bradley.

The tree branches, that is.

“Well,” said Bradley, “we’ll just have to be careful.”

Suddenly, Bradley realized something terrible.

“E-gor,” he said, alarmed. “Why haven’t you been talking in a lisp?”

“whoopth,” said e-gor. “That ith the narrator’th (who is not the dragon) fault. Blame her. Thhe thipped up and completely forgot.”

“Oh. OK.” Said Bradley.

They continued on. The volume of broken branches and general disarray increased. Bradly become increasingly wary as his head slowly cleared. Suddenly, he held up his hand and stopped.

“Hold on a sec.” he said. “Do you see something moving or is it just me?”

e-gor squinted into the darkness. “I thee it too. I could be thomthing nathy. Let’th go back.”

“Nah,” said Bradley. “That would take a lot more effort. Maybe it’s friendly.”

“Ok,” said e-gor. “You go firtht”

Bradley carefully stepped around a large moss covered tree, making his way slowly towards a large dark shape, which was visibly breathing. The creature was hidden in shadow in the dim mists of the trees. The only visible sign that it was alive was the steady rise and fall of its chest. (Bradley assumed it was a chest. He couldn’t really tell.) As he drew nearer to the creature, he squinted, trying to make out what it was. The closer he got, the more familiar the creature seemed. It was almost as if…

“haddah?” he said. “Is that you?”

“uuuugh,” groaned the dragon who is not the narrator. “I wish I was dead.”

“I guess you’re not used to caffeine,” Bradley said.

“Why’d you let me run?” said the dragon who is not the narrator. “I’m exhausted.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Bradley, patting the dragon who is not the narrator’s head. “Come on, we gotta get to the witch of Zo. I gotta get back to class.”

“Can’t I take a quick nap first?” the dragon who is not the narrator clutched her head.

“Betht we get moving,” said e-gor, waddling his way towards them. “No telling what’th in tethe woodth.”

A long, lonely howl came from behind the dark trees.

“What was that?” whispered Bradley.

“Quiet,” e-gor hissed. (He would have said “shhh” but that would have been weird to write out in a lisp.)

The trip stood still, hardly daring to breath. The forest was still. Suddenly the howl sounded out again, closer this time. It was coming towards them, fast.

Bradley looked at his companions. There was fear in his eyes. They could hear something running towards them, crashing through the underbrush.

“It’s probably just a lion.” Said Bradley.

“Don’t be daft,” said the dragon who is not the narrator. “Why would there be a lion in these woods? This is a completely original story. Only tigers and bears. Oh my.”

A small and rather bedraggled beagle dash hound brundle flew towards them, its short legs pumping furiously to propel itself at high velocity towards them.

“Woof!” it snarled. Panted, actually. It had been running quite hard. “I will (pant) defeat (pant) you (pant pant), you (pant) villains! (pant pant pant) scum! Curry-livered (pant) maggot infested (pant) politicians! (pant) stand down! (pant pant)”

The dog flopped down on the ground. “Just gimme a sec,” it said. “Lemme catch my breath and then I will destroy you.”

The trio looked at each other, eyebrows raised. Except e-gor, he just sort of stared blankly.

“Um, hello,” said the dragon who is not the narrator, “Why do you want to destroy us, exactly?”

“Because you’re trespassing! This is my forest! If you knew what was good for you, you’d skedaddle!”

Bradley looked down at the little dog ling on the ground with its tongue out, panting away and looking very snuggly. He couldn’t help but smile.

“What ‘choo smiling at, boy?” said the dog. “What, you think I’m too small and cute to defeat you? Well, I’ll show you how courageous I am! I’ll show you! I’ll show you all!!!!”

“How?” asked Bradley.

The dog stopped snarling, considering the question carefully.

“I’m not sure,” is said. “What do you think would be a good example of my amazing bravery?”

“Well, I’ve always thought chicken feet were scary,” said the dragon who is not the narrator. “Why don’t you eat one?”

“Yes, that would certainly be very courageous,” said the dog. Thoughtfully. “Any clue on where I could get one of them?”

“You could get it from the witch of Zo,” Bradley suggested. “We’re going there ourselves. The dragon who is not the narrator, haddah, needs a chicken heart for a recipe, and e-gor here needs a chicken brain for master. You can join us!”

“Fine by me,” said the dog. “My name’s willow. What’s yours?”

“Bradley”

“Alright Bradley, welcome to the group. Let’s go!”

“Wait, what?” said Bradley. Willow was already tromping off into the woods, followed closely by the dragon who is not the narrator and e-gor. Bradley shrugged and followed.

PART II

“For the millionth time, willow, will you please stop!”

The company was halted alongside the rainbow brick highway, just as they had been doing all morning. The dragon who is not the narrator was the first to express frustration. Willow trotted back to the group, having finished sniffing at a rock for the 50^th time.

“Oh, stop making such a fuss. What if it’s an enemy? You’ll thank me later.” Said willow.

“You don’t have to sniff every single rock we pass!”

Willow and the dragon who is not the narrator glowered at each other.

“kidth, thop fighting,” said e-gor. “I think we’re in thereous trouble.” He pointed off into the distance through a clear patch in the trees. The company squinted up in the direction he pointed. Tiny little specks were in the distance, growing larger every second.

“RUN!” screamed Bradley. He started sprinting along the road.

“Wait! Bradley!” panted the dragon who is not the narrator, running alongside him. “What is it?”

“It’s – it’s the freshmen!” said Bradley, horror gripping his voice.

Black shapes swooped down on them, wings beating all around in a confusing scramble. The freshmen swooped and dived, their annoying voices screeching in the air. Cries of, “Brad! Hi brad! Tutor me, brad!” filled the woods. Willow snapped at each passing freshman and barked viciously. The dragon who is not the narrator swatted her arms, trying to fend them off. E-gor – well, e-gor hid behind a tree. Bradley lowered his head and cowered as the swarm of flying freshmen overpowered him.

He screamed as the throng of freshmen demanding his attention picked him up and raised him into the air, flying away from the rainbow cloud highway. Through the gaps in the mass of freshmen Bradley could see the dragon who is not the narrator chasing after him, looking concerned. Willow was still cursing and snapping at the ankles of the departing flock.

Bradley was carried off over the trees, his dangling feet occasionally whacking the tip of a tall pine as the freshman skimmed over the top of the forest. The mass of screaming freshmen and beating wings confused Bradley and prevented him from seeing anything.

Just as Bradley was starting to get bored, the flying freshmen sunk back into the forest. When they reached ground, Bradley caught a glimpse of a small little fairy-tale cottage with a charming little well and honeysuckle climbing the stone walls.

Bradley barely had time to open his mouth to ask a question before he was yanked forward by two particularly annoying freshmen. He stumbled into the small, the tiny space inside suddenly becoming very, very crowded. Bradley was sure this was a serious fire hazard.

As Bradley was being helplessly jostled around as 50 freshmen tried to squeeze through the door at once, he heard a loud voice scream, “Out! Get out! You can’t be in here!”

A broom suddenly appeared, swiftly delivering whacks to freshmen trying to come through the door by clambering over their trampled fellow freshmen. As the freshmen scattered and ran back out the door, Bradley was left standing in the entrance way with two freshmen gripping his arms. Bradley blinked, his eyes adjusting to the gloom inside. The cottage was comfortably furnished, with cheery wallpaper, overstuffed couches and pillows with tassels, carpets, tables, and pictures of adorable cats scattered on the walls. The most defining feature of the cottage was the furious –looking freshman holding a broom like an upraised sword standing directly in front of him.

“Hi,” said Bradley. “Who are you?”

“Quiet, dog!” said the very scary looking freshman. “I will do the talking.”

“Hang on a sec,” said Bradley. “Are you the wicked witch of the south or something?”

“Of course not,” snorted the freshman, lowering her broom. “This is a totally original story. That would be copyright infringement. My name is Jenny. I’m the chaotic neutral witch of 34.1533 N, 118.7617 W.”

“Wait, what?”

“Shut up. Now you have something of value that I want. Give it to me, and I will let you go. Otherwise, I will get you and your little dog too.”

“I don’t have a dog. Or ruby slippers, for that matter. Sorry.”

“Who said anything about ruby slippers? Said jenny, confused. “Never heard of them. They don’t exist here. What I want is what’s in your backpack.”

“What? My pencil?”

“No!” screamed Jenny. “Your math textbook!”

“Oh,” said Bradley. “Is that all? Go ahead!” he took off his backpack and reached into it, pulling out his math textbook. “Here you go,” he said, handing the textbook to jenny.

Jenny reached for the textbook. When she touched it, however, she shrieked in pain and pulled her hands back.

“I can’t touch it!” she hissed. “Mark my words, Bradley, I WILL get that textbook!”

“Do you want me to teach it to you?” Bradley offered.

Jenny blinked. “You can do that?” she said.

“Sure,” said Bradley. “I’m really good at teaching math.”

Hours later, Bradley wrapped up his lesson. Jenny was sitting on one of her very cute chairs, listening attentively. She nodded. “Very good,” she said approvingly.

“Cool,” said Bradley. He picked up a glass of water and dumped it on her head. Jenny shrieked in rage and jumped up, her face twisted in rage.

“What did you DO??” she howled. She reached for Bradley. As she did, her body stiffened and made small cracking noises. Her movements slowed until she was completely frozen, still reaching towards Bradley, her face a mask of anger.

Suddenly the door burst open and the dragon who is not the narrator and willow ran into the cottage.

“Bradley!” exclaimed the dragon who is not the narrator. “Are you ok? What happened??”

“Villains! Traitors! Slugs!” growled willow, leaping forward and knowing on the frozen jenny’s ankle. “I will defeat her! Run Bradley, save yourself!”

“It’s cool guys,” said Bradley. “I’m fine.”

“What happened to her? Who is she?” said the dragon who is not the narrator.

“That’s the chaotic neutral witch of 34.1533 N, 118.7617 W. she froze solid when I threw water on her.”

“Water? Why’d you do that?”

“Well, to be honest, I was expecting her to melt. Although now that I think about it, freezing makes perfect sense.”

“What are you talking about?” asked the dragon who is not the narrator. Bradley hesitated.

“Never mind,” he sighed.

“Well, we’re almost to the village of Zo. We’d better get moving if we still want daylight,” said the dragon who is not the narrator.

“Ok,” said Bradley. “Come on, willow, stop trying to eat her and let’s get going.”

e-gor was waiting for them outside. “I wath thanding guard while you rethcued him,” he said.

“Sure you were,” muttered willow under his breath.

As the group walked along, Bradley was feeling very confused. He had supposed that the flying freshmen should have come for him after he had talked to the witch of Zo. After all, that was how stories went. The thought occurred to him that maybe the narrator (who is not the dragon) had forgotten the order of events and had accidently sent the freshmen too soon and would now have to come up with a completely different main villain to defeat. Because that’s how stories worked. Bradley also thought that the narrator (who is not the dragon) would like to apologize for any confusion this may have caused.

“Look!” said the dragon who is not the narrator. “There it is!”

Bradley stared. The village of Zo was not at all what he had expected. He had imagined the huge, glistening green towers of a majestic city. Instead, the rainbow cloud highway spluttered out in front of a dingy collection of huts with grass roofs and exposed wooden exteriors.

“Um,” said Bradley.

“You said it,” said the dragon who is not the narrator.

“No doubt about it,” said willow.

“Thith ith the wortht village ever,” said e-gor.

A small man with a massive moustache ran up to them.

“Hey guys, welcome to the wonderful village or Zo. Whazzup?” he said.

“Can we talk to the witch of Zo?” asked Bradley.

“Yeah, sure whatever. Wait, hold up,” he said.

“What is it?”

“I need you to prove that I should let you into the city.”

“Can’t we just walk in? There aren’t exactly any gates,” said Bradley.

The man sucked his moustache thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Come on.”

The man led them done into the village, which really wasn’t worth calling a village. Tumble weeds blew past them. Bradley decided not to comment. They walked past a few shacks until they reached a hut which was raised slightly above the rest. It was also slightly larger, but that wasn’t saying much.

The building had an air of superiority and careful construction, as if it would topple over in 10 seconds, whereas all the rest looked like it would only take 5. The man bowed and stepped aside, clearing the entryway to the hut. Bradley, the dragon who is not the narrator, willow, and e-gor raised skeptical eyebrows and filed into the hut.

Inside, they were greeted by a bunch of blinking lights illuminating a large, headless body.

“Wait, what?” said Bradley.

“Quiet,” hissed willow.

“That’s a lot less intimidating than I thought it would be,” said Bradley.

“Sup guys,” said the headless body. It was wearing a glittery, large dress that had crazy poufy sleeves. It was also very pink.

“I’m the witch of Zo,” continued the body. “As you can see, I’m not at all that intimidating. What can I help you with?”

“I had heard that you had chickens,” said the dragon who is not the narrator “I need a chicken heart for a recipe I’m doing.”

“And I need a brain for my matter,” said e-gor.

“And I need to prove my daring courage by eating chicken feet,” said willow.

The headless body blinked in surprise. Well, it didn’t actually, but Bradley imagined if it had a head it would have blinked in surprise.

“Really? Is that all! No immortality or riches or impossible physical changes?”

“Actually, I’d like to get to class, please,” said Bradley. “It’s in another dimension.”

“That’s more like it!” said the headless body. “I, the great and powerful witch of Zo will grant your request on one condition.”

“I knew it,” whispered Bradley under his breath.

“What’s that? Come on man, this is a totally original story. You can’t have predicted it. Anyway I need you to um….um…”

The headless body scratched its head. Well, the empty air where the head should have been. Willow fidgeted. All eyes were on the witch of Zo. Finally she spoke.

“Well, I don’t really have any enemies, and everything around here is already done, so…wait! There IS something I need you to do! Go defeat the ROCK!! Then I will grant your request.”

The company looked at each other.

“Um, where is this rock?” asked the dragon who is not the narrator.

“The ROCK is just outside of town about 100 yards to the left. You can’t miss it.”

As the foursome walked out of the witch of Zo’s hut, Bradley was a bit skeptical.

“What do you suppose the rock is?” he asked.

“I’ll bet it’s a supervillain who is extremely hard to kill,” said willow.

“I’ll bet it’s a metaphor for the heaviness of indecision and doubt that we all have to overcome to progress in life,” said the dragon who is not the narrator.

“I hope it’th edible,” said e-gor.

Bradley stopped walking. In the middle of the path in front of him sat a large boulder with the sign “The ROCK” placed neatly in front of it.

“It’s a rock,” said Bradley. Everyone stared at it for a second.

“How are we supposed to defeat it?” asked Bradley.

“We could try cutting it in half,” said willow.

Bradley took off his backpack and rifled through it until he found some scissors. He tried to cut the rock, but the scissors snapped.

“Well, that failed,” he said. He thought for a second then reached into his backpack again, pulling out a piece of paper. He put it on top of the rock and smoothed it over the surface. The ROCK promptly dissolved into dust.

“Nice one, Bradley,” said the dragon who is not the narrator.

“Everyone knows that paper beats rock,” he said, standing up and dusting off his hands.

e-gor picked up some of the post-rock dust and wrapped it up in his tunic.

When they got back to the witch of Zo, e-gor dumped the dust onto the floor of the hut.

“Hey!” said the witch of Zo. “I just cleaned that.”

“We destroyed the ROCK,” said Bradley.

“I see that. I guess I’ll have to give you what you want.”

“But first I want to see your face,” said Bradley. “I know you’re hiding behind that curtain over there.”

Everyone looked to the corner, where a dingy piece of cloth covered a section of the hut.

“Okay, you got me,” said the witch. “I’ll come out.”

The curtain twitched, and then fell down. Behind it, the true witch of Zo stepped into the light. She was exactly the same as her projection, headless and all.

“Okay,” she said. She was holding a tub with three bags in it. “First, to haddah, here’s your chicken heart. It was the chewiest and tastiest one I could find.” She handed one of the bags to the dragon who is not the narrator. “Second, to e-gor, I got you a chicken brain. Which in all honesty is disgusting.” She handed e-gor a second bag. “Finally, willow, here’s your chicken feet. Put them in soup or something.” She handed the last bag to willow and put down the tub.

“Now, Bradley Odell, time for you to go back to school.”

“What do I have to do?” asked Bradley.

Take out your math book, hold it and think, “There’s no place like math class.”

Bradley looked skeptical.

“Really? That’s it?”

“Really.”

Bradley looked to his companions.

“haddah?” he said.

“Yes?” said the dragon who is not the narrator.

“Thanks for everything. You really helped me out. I’ll see you later, I guess”

The dragon who is not the narrator smiled at him.

“Willow, e-gor, thank you too. Maybe I’ll see you again too.”

“You have served honorably.” Said willow.

Bradley pulled his math book out and held it tightly and thought, “There’s no place like math class.”

The bell rang, signaling the start of 0 period. Bradley opened one eye. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs. His math book was still held tightly in his hands. He sighed, putting the book back in his backpack and heading slowly to his 0 period class.

“Hey Brad!” heather hissed at Bradley as he walked to his seat next to her in econ. She was grinning, relieved to see him finally in class. “Why are you late every day?”

Brad smiled back. “I just slept through my alarm,” he said.

~THE END~

Our Alternate Universe

Mr. Piano and I have created an alternate universe. How often we wish we could just walk through a door and find a room designed just for us where time stands still and we can escape our daily struggles and be together with no worries, no fears or stresses, just the two of us. 

It is be a library – large, but still comfortable and cozy. Only our best and favorite books are allowed to line the shelves. We are surrounded by books.

And there is a big, comfortable couch where we can sit and read and comfort. There is a pile of fluffy pillows and super soft blankets to curl up with or build a fort. 

There is a window facing a beautiful tree where afternoon sunlight can stream in and fill the room with soft light and a warm sunbeam for naps. It has thick beautifully designed drapes that can keep the room dim and cozy during cold winter nights when we cuddle up in our blankets hot chocolate and tea. 

There is a fireplace that gives off flickering light and shrouds the room in a warm blanket of shadows for quiet nights in December after a day of gingerbread and cinnamon and Christmas shopping with children. 

There is a giant teddy bear with rich chocolate fur and a big fluffy stomach to provide comfort and solace in times of sadness. And there is a lock on the door that only we have the key to. 

It is our perfect place of comfort. Whenever life is too stressful and we are separated, or we have nowhere to go because our roommates have pushed us out in favor of a vibrant and really dang loud celebration, our thoughts go back to our alternate universe. For now our alternate universe only exists in our minds and fondest imagination, but even now the very thought of what we could have comforts us and provides an escape for our minds. It is our dream, but it may never be realized. Someday….

oh, and since it's been a while since I have updated, Mr. Piano and I are dating as of Oct. 26 (my B-day)

Where to Go when there's Nowhere To Go

Where do you go when there's nowhere to go?

I was sitting in my apartment measuring longitudal waves with my physics slinky when my roommate and her two friends burst into the room talking very loudly the first night of marriage. My roommate's (let's call her miss wheat-she has celiac's disease) best friend is getting married in a few weeks, and I suppose in the euphoria of the whole experience they decided to have a party in my room, laughing and talking loudly while discussing very intimate and girlish things amongst their endless giggling. One of the girls decided to take and use some of my things, and after dodging around three excited girls and two pizzas scattered on the floor of my bedroom, I decided that perhaps the best place for me at this point in time would be very, very far away from them. Their euphoria and general sound level was making my brain confused and disoriented, and I was not eager for a night of listening to girl talk and jests about my "relationship" with Mr. Piano.

So I left. I had to drop off my homework in the science building, so I headed on campus. The problem with being on campus, however, is that everything closes down at 11:00 and it's not the best idea to be alone at night in a university setting. I had options for the next four hours, but none of them involved what I would consider to be an ideal Friday night. And I didn't grab my Oreos either, so that was even more of a bummer.

What am I supposed to do? I felt as though I was practically shoved out of my apartment. I didn't belong there anymore and staying there would be pure torture. On the other hand, there is not a way to really be comfortable anywhere on campus. I'm stuck in a position where I have nowhere to belong. More than anything I want to have a quiet night in where I can watch a TV show and read a book and eat apples and peanut butter. I've been waiting for the weekend for so long, feeling as though I don't belong anywhere feels more tragic than it should. (heeey-watch for a post on entitlement comin' soon!)

Where do I go?


UPDATE: (not really, since I'm writing this in conjunction with the rest of the post) While I was writing this I was sitting in the science center and Mr. Piano came by to drop off his homework. What a coincidence that I just happened to be sitting in the exact right area to run into Mr. Piano at just the right time before his work started so that we could run into each other! It's like it was planned or something (hem hem)

Date Night

I asked Mr. Piano on a date.

HOLY CARP DANG IT IM GOING ON A DATE IN 30 MINUTES

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

okay here's the thing- my roommates decided they wanted to have a big "roommate date night" and we're all going to a movie. They pretty much made me ask Mr. Piano out, not that I put up much of an objection.

This guy is a total nerd. He listens to video game soundtracks while he studies and he brings legend of zelda to class. He knows every nerdy reference and was thrilled that I brought the one ring to school today.

He's so adorable!

I'm pretty much on the same level, although not nearly as much of a gamer.

I've already discussed my daily clothing choices and my casual wear, and style is not my thing. I never get fancy for anything. I choose comfort over looks.

I'm a nerd. Mr. Piano is a nerd. And yet, I chose to wear the fanciest shirt I own, the nicest jeans (which I washed specially so they would be perfect tonight), a necklace, bangle bracelets, boots (which I NEVER wear outside of church), and I had my roommate straighten my hair. I fretted about when to shower. I worried about my teeth. I kept glancing nervously in the mirror to make sure my hair falls just right.

I have tried so hard to look incredible and be clean and fashionable not because my roommates made me, because society dictates that I do, or because I'm trying to "earn" the admiring looks of a guy. I've already won them. I'm dressing up because I enjoy it.

Nowadays, with so much political correctness flying about and neighbors ripping each others throats out about how girls and teenagers have impossible standards they feel they have to live up to, and how looks define a girl, I feel that we're loosing a grip on one fundamental truth.

Dressing up feels nice.

It makes us feel dignified and clean and whole. Taking off the drudgery of work or school clothes and putting on something clean and flattering cheers us up more than it should. We look in the mirror and see someone beautiful, someone happy and lively and cheerful. We see that image and our posture, our minds, and our attitudes reflect our reflection.

And that change of attitude can make any day incredible.

...
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I'M GOING ON A DATE!!!!!!

Worthy

I have made a huge mistake.

I haven't touched a piano in two months.

I spent over 10 years of my life hating every minute of practicing the piano. For years I only looked at my music when I had my weekly 30-minute piano lesson. I avoided any repetition or development of basic skills. I cursed the metronome and I spat on theory. Despite my attempts to NOT learn piano, I was envious of the talent my friends had and I wanted to be so much like them.

I just wasn't willing to put in the work.

Time passed, and as I began to appreciate the few songs I could play well over and over again, I used the piano as a way to overcome stress, anxiety, energy, and sheer boredom. However, I never took practicing seriously. If I couldn't play it well, I didn't play it.

You can see the flaw in my logic, of course.

The last thing that I was learning how to play before I went off to college was Clair de Lune by Debussy. I loved that piece. For me, it was a culmination of my years of piano. I got pretty far in it, too-I could play the whole song moderately well, and I was beginning to memorize it.

Then I moved to Utah.

I got distracted. I put away my music and I didn't touch it. I learned, I laughed, I cried, and I watched a whole bunch of Netflix. I thought about practicing, but I kept putting it off. I could come back to it later.

I met a guy. He was in my physics class. We talked a lot, and he told me he was considering majoring in piano performance for a while. I was thrilled, of course. We both had spent our lives submersed in music! He practiced every morning when the piano at his apartment complex was free.

The more I thought about it however, the worse I felt. I was the exact opposite of him. He loved piano, and had pursued with the passion and determination it deserved. I had rebelled against it my entire life. And now, I had gone two whole months without even attempting to practice. How could I think that I shared the same love as him? I had not worked hours on end, nor had I regarded my talent as a precious treasure to be preserved and nurtured.

Now, more than ever, I miss playing the piano. I truly do. I want so badly to be allowed to sit down on the bench and feel the ivory keys submit beneath my touch. I want to feel the music flow from my fingers to my heart and hear the hours of practice and devotion magnify in the most glorious way.

I want to be worthy....

4:15

It's 4:15 in the morning. I haven't slept.

I need to say something, but I don't know how.

I think I'll just go to bed and try to sleep again.

Obligation of Friendship

Last Saturday, as I was pondering my purpose at college and eating Chick-fil-a waffle fries, I was approached by a physics classmate wondering why on earth I would be on campus on a Saturday morning. He wasn't one of the really strange physics guys who really live up to their stereotype, so the moment wasn't completely ruined, but I wasn't in much of a mood to talk. I only mentioned physics homework, awkwardly and begrudgingly

He apparently didn't get the hint, because he then offered to show me where the physics lab was, right then and there.

I went. I needed to know.

Over the next two hours, we walked up to north campus, realized we both lived south, turned around, walked to his apartment, realized my apartment was 7 blocks in the opposite direction, and walked there.

The following week, he sat next to me whenever we had class together. My roommates went berserk over the whole situation, but I was happy to finally have a friend under no obligations.

What do I mean by "no obligations"? I have three roommates, and we're all best buds. I have a friend I do physics homework every day with. I sit next to an old friend from good 'ole California in our only class together. I hang out with my cousins and have a great time with them.

All of these people have an obligation to be my friend. I have to be friendly and enjoy my roommates, or else my college experience sucks. I live with them. I became friends with the girl in my physics class simply because we are the only girls in that class, and we needed study partners. I have to be friends with the guy from back home because we have always been friends, and we share a common background. (also I had a huuuge crush on him in 5th grade but that's another story). And my cousins are my family. They have to make me feel welcome in this crazy new life of college.

Every friendship I have here can be traced back to a moment when we knew we would have to form bonds between us or things wouldn't work out well. This in no way detracts from the friendship or compromises its legitimacy, but there is a certain attitude about the relationship that makes it seem tragic and frail.

So you can imagine how happy I was to know that someone, without any want, need, social duty or other obligation was actually interested in me, and me alone. He didn't need to stop and ask why I was at school on a Saturday morning, nor did he have to scan the room to find me and sit at the desk closest to mine.

But he did. And because he did I feel as though there is something about me that can encourage a friendship, something special that captured someone's attention and gave me an opportunity to show myself to another.

In short, I'm on top of the world.