I’m writing this because I need to record the events of my strange life. I cannot promise that I’ll go in order; memories don’t work like that. At least, not for me. Everything is more like a jumble, but that’s another story. I’m gonna begin a few months after I began my notorious career as a superhero…yes, you read that correctly. Superhero. Don’t laugh. I’m serious. I’m Jem.
(Don’t get too excited, though. My personal life is nowhere near as exciting as my public one.)
I’m gonna start by recording the weirdest trip I ever took.
Patrick slammed me in the chest with a jolt of electricity, making me fall back-first onto the asphalt. We were in the middle of the street, close to Central Park. Why did Patrick always jump me in highly populated areas?
And people were already complaining about traffic in New York City. I thought with a sarcastic smile.
I bounded back up and retaliated, wishing the paparazzi would quit with their stupid camera flashes. It made it harder to see. Didn’t they get that my eyes were really sensitive?
Patrick laughed, barely phased.
“It seems we are at an impasse, my dear. I cannot best you, and you cannot best me. At least, not without killing one another.”
He jabbed at my biggest weakness, the weakness that everyone in the world knew: I didn’t have the heart to kill. Death made me sick, especially lately.
“Give up, Patrick.” I urged him. “Everyone is tired of this. Even you, I’m sure. Just end this now.”
He laughed again, something he always seemed to do.
“Join me. It is the only way to end this.”
“Never.” I said, rising off the pavement a little bit to be eye-level with him.
“I was afraid you’d say that, and this is, unfortunately, your last chance.”
“I’d sooner die.” I said, my heart slamming in my chest. What about Lee and Kieran and Charlie and Maria and Addie and John and Sarah and-
I stopped listing the people in my head that I’d miss if I died. It was a waste of time. I began to pray. That was the thing to do.
Lord, unto You I commit my spirit…
Many of you who are reading are probably wondering why I resigned myself to death so easily here. Well, Patrick (my arch nemesis, as you’ve probably gathered already) is much stronger than me. He could kill me whenever he decided to, and I knew it. He was older, more experienced, and had a lot more going for him than I did. I was only alive because the psychopath seemed to enjoy the little cat-and-mouse game we’d been playing for the past five months.
He smiled a chilling smile, and pulled out what looked like a grenade, and tossed it at me. Some sort of strange vapor surrounded me, and I began to feel drowsy. Of course. The freak wasn’t gonna kill me, he was just gonna drug me again, like always, to get me out of his way for a while. That was one of his favorite tactics, to give me something that’d make me absolutely euphoric or delirious or unconscious or…well, you get the idea.
Charlie would be here soon, like always, and he’d give me an antidote and everything would be fine. That was my last thought as I hit the asphalt, completely asleep.
I woke up in a white room, with the sun streaming in. A tall man was standing over me, looking concerned. He drew a sword and held it against my throat.
“Don’t move.” he commanded, and I didn’t.
I was pretty much invincible, unless you cut off my head, and this guy seemed to be pretty serious. That, and I couldn’t move my arms or legs. Perfect.
My mind began to race. Charlie hadn’t come, somehow. Patrick had left me on the pavement and I’d been picked up by the government.
Great. I was gonna have a hard time getting out of this one.
“I have the right to remain silent, you know. You’re not getting my secret identity. Let me go before I make you wish you were never born.”
The man merely quirked an eyebrow at me.
“You incapacitated many of my best warriors.” he said, frowning. “What sort of enchantment are you privy to? And who sent you?”
“What? Where am I?” I demanded, looking around. Maybe I was delirious again.
“You can put your sword down. She is no threat to those who are good.”
I heard someone say, and I darted my eyes toward the direction of the sound.
It was an older man, who looked very wizard-ish, and he was clad in all grey.
What sort of freaky government questioning room was this, anyway? And why were they using swords? We were in the twentieth century, for crying out loud.
The man moved the sword away from me, but did not put it away.
“Where am I?” I demanded again. “Let me go, I’m not hurting anyone.”
“Like I said, you incapacitated many of my best warriors.”
“Warriors? Is that a new code for police or something? And anyway, I don’t remember hurting anyone. I don’t-“
“You didn’t hurt anyone, you merely put them to sleep.”
“Well, I do that all the time. Just apply a bit of pressure to the artery in the neck. Kid stuff. You’ve both seen me do it on the news. It’s harmless and effective.”
They looked at me strangely, and I kept talking. “I don’t remember fighting many people today, though. There was Patrick, sure, but-“
“Who are you?”
“You know who I am. Everyone knows. I’m Jem.”
“My march warden reported that you gave him the name Jenna Thompson.” he said dryly.
I felt all the blood drain away from my face. They knew. The world knew. My secret identity wasn’t secret anymore. Ugh, this was the beginning of the end! All those months of secrecy, and for what? Just to reveal it myself when I was drugged? It wasn’t fair! My chest constricted with emotion and I fought to keep my eyes dry.
“If you already know who I am, then why am I here? Let me go. I have to face to press sometime. Ugh, John’s going to kill me!”
Don’t hyperventilate and have a nervous breakdown in front of the feds. Don’t hyperventilate and have a nervous breakdown in front of the feds. Don’t hyperventilate and have a nervous breakdown in front of the feds.
I repeated this over and over in my head, trying to show no emotion.
“Stay here with her.” The tall one said to the other one, and left the room.
“Where’s he going?” I demanded.
“I understand that you are afraid.” the grey bearded man told me kindly. “But you are in very capable hands.”
“Does everyone know?” I asked in a whisper.
“No. It would cause too much disquiet.” he replied, and I heaved a sigh. A few relieved tears fell out of my eyes and I relaxed a little.
I still felt a little out of it from whatever it was Patrick had given me, but I was becoming more and more alert with each passing second.
“What are you?” he asked me, curiously poking my in the rib.
“I’m a human.” I replied.
“I’ve seen many humans, my dear, but never any that can do the things you did.”
“What did I do? I don’t remember. Where am I? Why did you bring me here? Let me go!”
“Not just yet.” he said. “I can see your mind, and that you are not of bad heart. But how can we be sure that you can control your abilities? That you won’t hurt someone on accident?”
“Um, where have you been for the past few months? I can obviously control my powers. I do it all the time. I mean, sometimes I accidentally blow the occasional light bulb when I get really mad or upset, but that’s not really a big deal.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about? I don’t like mind games, so just tell me what’s going on. Where is this facility?”
“You are currently in Imladris, my lady.”
“Rivendell.” he said, in a ‘duh’ tone of voice.
Rivendell…wait, that sounded familiar. Wasn’t Rivendell in Lord of the Rings? Like, an Elvish city or something?
“What was your name again?” I asked the man in grey.
“Gandalf the Grey.” he said, as if everyone knew him.
Delirious. Yup. I was definitely delirious.
italics Okay, should I continue? It gets better as it goes, but if no one is interested, I’ll shelf this one. Please comment with your opinions!