My Hero

Long ago, in 2010 when I first entered NaNoWriMo, I wrote a story called My Hero. It was random, spur of the moment, never finished, and frankly...terrible.

But many people told me the prologue was good, and my friend and I liked the name Peach. 

So here you go...enjoy :)

cover made by the lovely Kayla 

Prologue

Peach saw herself; small, blonde, large blue eyes, dressed in a white hoodie and jeans, standing in black, surrounded by swirling white mist.

I'm dreaming, she thought subconsciously, but it didn’t really register, or matter, especially after what happened next.
The black morphed into one of those stereo-typical, terrifying forest paths, where the trees are dark, bare, straggly and gloomy and the sky is gray/brown, and the air is cold as death and has the scent of something horrible coming after you. She staggered, terrified, through trees and dark and mist. She didn’t know what she was running from, or even why she was running at all. Than, she saw them. Shadows. Shapes. Slipping in and out of shadows and changing, flashing, nothing clear, but the shapes so horrible Peach knew she was running from them. They looked like monsters, animals…beings Peach didn’t know she could imagine.
“Help!” she cried, her voice hoarse and whispery. She must have been yelling for help all her life. Why did she keep trying? The things got closer, and she ran faster.
Up ahead, all she could see was more of the same…straggly bear trees, cold mist, black. Black. The black made her want to turn and run back…except of course for what was chasing her.
“There’s no hope,” she gasped, her words coming out in little puffs of mist. “No one can hear me. I’m doomed!”
She slowed enough to turn around, which was her biggest mistake. One look, and her heart, her body, her thoughts all froze in terror. She didn’t even know what she was seeing…there was nothing there. Maybe that was what was so horrible.
“No!” She screamed, horrified. “Help me! Someone! Please! Save me!”
Suddenly, she was stumbling…she flew forward and scraped her face and chest on the hard ground. She cried out, unimaginable terror washing over her. She flipped onto her back, and saw dark shapes flapping towards her. They were too big to be bats, and every one of them was screeching like it wanted to rip her apart.
She scrambled to her feet, and found herself unable to see clearly. Everything was a blury haze, and the forest path was melting into black. The mist stayed put. The black squirmed and swirled. Everything that had been chasing her was melding together into a world of darkness, fear and pain. And it was going to suffocate her. She whirled around and around, but there was no escape. The mist that had assured her she was still at least in a real world suddenly flitted away, like the flame from a candle.
Peach screamed, her hands flying up to ward the black away from her face. “Why didn’t you save me!?” she sobbed, but she had no idea who she was yelling to. She dropped to her knees, knowing it was over.
Suddenly, there was a noise like wind ripping through a paper bag, only it was deafening. Peach’s eyes flew open, and she saw…light.
Light, beautiful, pure, blazing light ripped through the black, blinding her.
There was a beautiful yet horrible wind, and Peach covered her head with her arms as it rushed over her. She felt…hands…grabbing at her. She cried out, but the hands were wrenched away. Nothing touched her.
She was safe.
The rush of wind passed, and Peach hesitantly looked up. She gasped. Where there had been darkness, now there was light. She was surrounded by light. It was warm and beautiful and horrible at the same time. It was unbearably wonderful. It hurt her heart in a way she didn’t understand.
“Where am I?” she wondered aloud, her voice quavering.
And than, through the light, there came a dark silhouette. It looked like a man…a strong, broad, tall man. She stared at the person. Whoever it was, even through their form was dark, they seemed to make the very light around them look dim. The light was coming FROM them.
“Peach,”
The voice was beautiful, warm, and deafening.
“You owe your life to someone,”
“Wh-who!?” Peach stammered, sounding hysterical in her own ears.
“You remember, Peach. They saved you. You couldn’t be alive right now if they hadn’t. You owe them your life. You owe them your love.”
Peach stared at the silhouette, her trembling body starting to still. “I…I remember?”
“Yes. And you need to be grateful.”
 
The next thing Peach knew, her eyes were open and she was staring up at her ceiling. Her heart sped up by about three hundred beats and she sat up, sweat running down her face. “WHOA!”
She looked around, panting. Her bed, her pale blue sheets messed up and her flowered bedspread rumpled over her shaking legs. The room was unchanged. The walls were dark, the shades were drawn. It was clean. The rug was wrinkled from where she’d launched herself into bed last night. Her desk had five or six books on it, and her closet door was closed. The fan whirred quietly on the ceiling. The green letters of her alarm clock read 3:37.
Peach slowly looked down at herself. She hadn’t changed either. Purple ankle socks. Black sleep shorts. Pink sleep tank top. Her brown/blonde hair hung in tangled lumps around her face.
But…she had changed. Something was different. She could FEEL it. I shouldn’t be here.
I SHOULDN’T BE HERE.
“I should be dead.”
A shiver went through Peach. The voice in the dream said she remembered. But she didn’t! She didn’t even understand! She took five breathes one might expect froma beached whale rather than a rather small fifteen year old girl. Than she let her head collapse back against the pillow, trembling slightly. She closed her eyes.
“I should be dead,” she repeated, whispering into the dark. “But…somebody saved me. I have a hero.” She paused, tears of awe welling up in her eyes. “A hero. I have a hero.”
She opened her eyes, her jaw setting in determination.
“And I need to be grateful.”