avery mason ☼ daniel drieberg (watch_this) wrote in ourtrueselves, @ 2009-05-12 22:03:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | avery mason |
Who: Avery Mason [a narrative]
What: Waking up.
When: The morning of Wednesday, May 13.
Where: Random hotel.
Warnings: None.
The first thing that Avery noticed upon waking up was that things smelled wrong. It certainly didn’t smell like her room, in her house. Her face was buried in a pillow, but it was….wrong. Unable to think of any reason right off the top of her head why it should be wrong, she rolled over, blinking through the haze of sleep. Things came in to focus slowly, mostly because this wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Although Avery couldn’t remember leaving home, home was most certainly not where she was.
Startled, she pushed herself up, the fluffy generic blanket pooling around her waist. She wasn’t dressed for bed, still wearing jeans and a tee shirt, her hair in a pair of tangled braids. Rubbing a hand over her face, she looked around. There was a small table an chairs, and stiff looking couch, a television sitting on top of a dresser. It took a few seconds to click that she was in a hotel room. Had something happened? She had zero recollection of checking in to a hotel room. Unless…
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she stumbled toward the window, yanking back the curtains. Sure enough, it wasn’t the sweltering city of Austin that greeted her, but an unfamiliar sight of skyscrapers and backed up traffic. A hand moved to her mouth, almost like she was trying to muffle herself if she decided to scream. She was in New York. She’d been body jacked and transported all the way across the country by the person she shared memories with. This was wrong on so many levels.
Taking a few big, deep breaths, she took another good look around the room. There were a couple of bags stacked near the door. At least Dan had packed for her, and hadn’t sent her traipsing off to New York with only the clothes on her back. Inspiration suddenly hit her when she saw the small bag she used as a purse. Snatching it from the pile, she dumped the contents on to the bed, trying to find her cell phone. Ahah. There it was.
Her fingers shook as she scrolled through her contacts, looking for a number she’d never dialed before. Clicking the call button, she listened with growing panic as it rang and rang, eventually clicking on to a voicemail. Sighing, she did her best to keep her voice even. “Michael? This is Avery. Avery Mason. Could you call me back? It’s kind of an emergency.” She paused, not really knowing the sane way to explain what had happened. “Dan did it. He brought us to New York.”