Post by Issy Kentra on Dec 23, 2009 14:03:44 GMT -5
Issy still felt pretty tired as she began to wake herself up, not really wanting to actually get up. She wasn’t normally like this either, normally she had a habit of just waking up right away, and shooting off in a random direction, followed by walking in several other directions in a couple of frantic minutes of letting her brain catch up with the rest of her body. She didn’t feel like getting up at the minute, and lay outspread on her bed, not really knowing what time it was, though the sun was certainly up by now, she could tell that much from the condition of the rather faded lighting in her room. Surely she could afford another couple of minutes in bed.
”Just five more….”[/color] She started to cough as something rolled to the top of her throat. Issy rolled over onto her side, coughing more, turning a reddish shade which was darkening quite quickly. More rather frantic coughing ensured as she discovered she was unable to breath, and one of her arm struggled around, pushing a glass which had been by her bed to the ground with a rather loud smash.
Pop.
As air raced back into her lungs, a small reddish ball-thing shot out of her mouth, smashing into the face of her alarm clock, and forcing it off the table. Having now received sufficient air, though breathing at least a little bit heavier than she normally would for just waking up, Issy looked curiously upon the small ball thing, which was now simply just lying there. She was completely awake and aware now, and stared upon the ball, before tapping it gently with her left hand. Nothing happened, and the rather confused girl lying in her bed continued to stare at the thing.
Of course she hadn’t really even considered some of the more important facts, such as just why such a thing was in her room, how she had nearly choked on it, and what it really was. Well maybe she was slightly considering the last of the questions, but not in a direct approach, more in a way of trying to figure out if it was meant to do anything.
She rolled back onto her back, still sprawled across her bed, and stared at the ceiling. What was she meant to do with the thing, the small reddish ball, that was the only question which was raging through her mind at that moment. It was confusing, she couldn’t think of anything, yet somehow she felt a strange possessiveness over the thing, like she was sure that she wanted to keep hold of it.
”Just five more….”[/color] She started to cough as something rolled to the top of her throat. Issy rolled over onto her side, coughing more, turning a reddish shade which was darkening quite quickly. More rather frantic coughing ensured as she discovered she was unable to breath, and one of her arm struggled around, pushing a glass which had been by her bed to the ground with a rather loud smash.
Pop.
As air raced back into her lungs, a small reddish ball-thing shot out of her mouth, smashing into the face of her alarm clock, and forcing it off the table. Having now received sufficient air, though breathing at least a little bit heavier than she normally would for just waking up, Issy looked curiously upon the small ball thing, which was now simply just lying there. She was completely awake and aware now, and stared upon the ball, before tapping it gently with her left hand. Nothing happened, and the rather confused girl lying in her bed continued to stare at the thing.
Of course she hadn’t really even considered some of the more important facts, such as just why such a thing was in her room, how she had nearly choked on it, and what it really was. Well maybe she was slightly considering the last of the questions, but not in a direct approach, more in a way of trying to figure out if it was meant to do anything.
She rolled back onto her back, still sprawled across her bed, and stared at the ceiling. What was she meant to do with the thing, the small reddish ball, that was the only question which was raging through her mind at that moment. It was confusing, she couldn’t think of anything, yet somehow she felt a strange possessiveness over the thing, like she was sure that she wanted to keep hold of it.
