Rachel Graham s Precious Little Life Chapter 1
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Rachel Graham's Precious Little Life - Chapter 3 free porn video
You don't do subspace on an empty stomach. That's the only thing I
remember about it from class. Apparently I remembered it wrong, because
the second I landed, I threw up.
I wish I could describe what it's like being inside your own head, but
it's one of those things that you just have to be there to understand.
All the pictures you see, where it's all black except for you and wherever
you're heading? That's made up. Suffice to say it's weird. Maybe that
was because I wasn't quite sure where I was heading, but I had that
feeling that I wasn't alone.
I wasn't the type of person that had that much imagination, I wouldn't
say. I had the necessary amount to get by as a musician, or to write
papers in school, or whatever, but I was more a woman of action than a
woman of deep thought. So having someone else in my head, or in my
thoughts at all, was an uncommon situation.
Things started to coalesce, from that weird nether-space to a familiar
locale: My high school corridors. Looks like, if I'm going to find out
what's going on here, it's going to happen in high school. I wandered the
deserted halls, and every so often I'd step on a square of that boring
grey tile that sparked a memory, and the memory would play back.
Junior year. I'd just come out as gay, quite publicly, by accident.
There was no putting the cat back in that bag, however, so I was dealing
with the fallout as best I could: Hiding. Sitting on the ground between
the water fountain and a row of lockers, eating my lunch as invisibly as
possible.
"Hey, dyke!" came a familiar voice. I stayed as silent and as still as
possible. It's entirely possible there was another lesbian at my school
that had drawn her ire. Just keep munching on your Nutella sticks,
Rachel. Lizard eyes work by motion, if you don't move, she can't see you.
"I said hey, dyke!" closer this time. I was painfully aware of a human
shadow blocking out the fluorescent light. The shadow of Carla Evans, the
worst kind of bitch there was. If I'd known Julie right then, I'd rather
hang out with her than even acknowledge Carla's existence, but that wasn't
to be.
"That's me." I stood up and pushed my way past her, not once looking at
her face. She wanted me to look at her, so she could ask me a series of
embarrassing questions about whether I thought she was hot enough to fuck,
or whatever. I pulled my hoodie up and over my face, leaving her standing
there. I always imagined she'd been a bit shocked at me completely
blowing her off. Then, I'm back in the empty hallway inside my head.
Yikes. Looks like these weren't gonna be the best of memories. I felt a
shudder, like someone was moving behind me. I spun around, but there was
no one there. I turned back to check the corridor I'd come from, but saw
nothing. Not even the door I'd come in on. That wasn't good, that meant
I had to get to the end before I was going to get anywhere.
Another hallway, another memory square.
Later in my junior year, I'd gotten a bit more acceptance. Turns out I
was far from the only gay person at the school, and I'd even had a brief
relationship with one of the girls, a freshman by the name of Lizzy
Parvelli. It hadn't made everything all gravy again, but I started
feeling a little more normal.
Until this day. Oh man, I remembered this day. Depending on how you look
at it, it was either an awesome day or a horrible day. Carla Evans was
starting her crap again. This time, she was giving Lizzy trouble while we
were eating lunch outside. Lizzy and I had already split at that point,
but we were all part of the LGBT clique at school, and had stayed pretty
close. Carla wasn't even homophobic, she was just a bitch to everyone. I
had a crappy lunch, and I was in range.
I launched myself at Carla with all my strength, knocking her to her feet.
"Shut the fuck up! God, you vapid whore, do you think anyone in any
universe would ever want to hear a word you have to say?!" Punch. "You
think you have friends?" Another punch. "You have hangers-on because you
look like you have money!" Pinned her to the ground and grabbed her head,
forcing her to look into my eyes. "But I know you! I know your dad lost
his job last month! I know you lost your house! I know you and your
family are going to be on the street in a month, and I know you're going
to lose everything that makes you someone people even pretend to want to
be around!" I shoved her head back into the grass, leaned over, and
whispered in her ear, and ended with "And I know who you stare at whenever
she's changing in the locker room. Want me to tell her?"
She looked at me with tears in her eyes. I couldn't tell if they were
fear or pain, but I figured they were a mixture of both. That was about
the time school security managed to pull me off of her, and then I was
back in the hallway.
I'd gotten suspended for two weeks and kicked out of all my
extracurricular activities for the rest of the year, but when I came back
I was a hero. Carla hadn't said a word to anyone, about anything since
then. In fact, she hadn't spoken a word until she killed herself the day
before school let out for summer.
That was when I realized I had a rage inside me. I drove a girl to
suicide over petty insults, and I would've kept going if I hadn't already
broken her with my words. I might've killed her, and I'd be telling a
very different story right now. I had to temper myself after that.
Another lashing out like that and I'd be expelled, is what the principal
said.
I didn't want to step on any more memory squares. If I looked closely, I
could see which ones would activate, and I was able to plan my route
through the halls around them. Still, every turn I felt that there was
someone moving behind me, I'd turn around, and every so often I would
stumble onto a memory. Most were benign, even downright pleasant, but it
seemed that the worst memories I had all took place in high school.
I'd tried every classroom door I'd passed. So far, they'd all been
locked, but I was approaching the Principal's office. I had a sinking
feeling that whatever I was supposed to find in here was going to be
there.
The sinking feeling only got worse when I rounded that corner. There was
no way to reach the door without activating memories. I had a feeling
they weren't going to be pleasant ones, either. I looked around...there.
There was a way. I'd call it the hard way, if the straightforward way
were going to be any easier.
There was a patch of tile where I could get a running start, and I
launched myself at the large window. I figured this was all in my head,
some glass cuts weren't going to kill me. Whacking my head into an inch-
thick sheet of bulletproof glass still wasn't the best idea. I laid,
sprawled out on the floor, a comically large bump forming on top of my
head. If I'd spent more than a second thinking about it, though, I
would've realized that I actually WAS in my head, which became clearer as
the entire school began to shake, a delayed aftershock, I guess.
Then the pounding began. It was like before, coupled with the fact that
I'd just injured myself. Maybe I'd just given myself a concussion.
That'd be splendid.
Laying there feeling sorry for myself wasn't going to do anything. I
pulled myself to my feet and tried to think up another tactic. If I could
jump across the memory tiles and open the door before I landed, maybe.
Without a running start, it was going to be hard.
Time for the ol' college Try...too bad I was a college dropout. I leapt
and...well, I managed to only land on one memory tile, but it was a doozy.
Senior year, a week before graduation. Myself and the other openly gay
seniors were in the principal's office.
"What we'd like to do is give you guys something special. You've had it
rough here, you especially Ms. Graham. What we're going to do is let you
all have your own graduation ceremony. Away from all the discriminating
students." The balding, overweight, cigar-scented principal of the school
lied through his teeth. This wasn't going to be anything special. We all
knew what it really was. He was telling us we weren't welcome at the
"Straight" ceremony. The ceremony we'd all already made arrangements for.
"Thanks, but I'd rather walk with the rest of my classmates." Kyle spoke
up. He really shouldn't have done that.
"Well, as it turns out Mr. Zimmer, we received word from your Pre-cal
teacher that you hadn't been doing so hot this semester." It was bullshit
and we all knew it. Kyle was AP, a Straight-A student. "Turns out, you
may not be graduating at all." The color drained from Kyle's face.
Back on the threshold of the office. Kyle ended up graduating, and with
honors, but it took getting the ACLU involved and led to a bunch of people
at the school losing their jobs. I turned the knob, opened the door, and
realized the cold hard truth: This was not the principal's office. Not
really.
This looked more like a corporate office. Cubicles, and motivational
posters, and all that jazz. As desolate as the rest of the school had
been, but I heard a chair creaking. I was not alone in here. I made my
way to the source of the creak, and that's when I came face to face with
myself, and fell out of my chair.
I stood up, embarrassed at my fumble. I'd started to nod off at work
again, and there was a young lady coming to see me. I got a good look at
her, and my jaw dropped: Rachel Graham, the girl I'd been playing online,
was standing right in front of me. Our eyes met, and my head started
pounding, and I fell to one knee from the sudden onset of pain.
I shook my head and the pain cleared up. What was this guy's problem,
anyway? Tall, dark, and pudgy was the one invading MY head, not the other
way around.
We stood there in silence. There wasn't really a good way for me to
broach the subject, and he apparently didn't have much to say.
"So..." I eventually said.
"So," he responded.
"You know what's weird?" I asked.
"The fact that a figment of my imagination is standing in front of me,
while my office has become deserted in the interim?" He really had no
clue.
"That too, I guess, but whatever. It's like, I felt you there before I
even made it in here, but you look like you were sitting here the whole
time."
"What are you talking about? How did you get in here? How are you even
real?"
Hoo-boy. Time to break the bad news to him. "Listen, guy I don't
know...you got caught in a spacetime rift. Your brain latched onto mine,
and we're quantumly entangled. It's pretty basic high school stuff, you
know?"
He stared at me blankly. "But...no. You're someone I imagined up, years
ago." That was a new one. Then again, this was all new to me.
"Yeah, I don't know anything about that. I just know that you and I have
to come to an agreement or whatever or I'm gonna be on Phase blockers the
rest of my life, and that stuff makes your pee smell like spoiled milk."
"What do you mean, agreement?" And I'm not buying any of this. I'm
obviously going crazy, but you're talking way over my head."
This guy was at least 30, and I hadn't said anything that wasn't basic,
general education stuff. He had at least a college education, judging by
his outfit and his cubicle. "Over your head how, exactly?"
"Quantum entangled, or phase blockers, spacetime rifts? What the hell is
all that supposed to be?"
Then it clicked. He wasn't from my world. He wasn't from my universe.
He was from--
"Spacetime didn't rip in your world! How did you get caught in the rift
if it didn't rip there, too?!"
That's when a door appeared under me, and opened of its own volition,
dumping me back into my apartment, with a throbbing headache. There was
no more subspace door in front of me. I'd wrinkled my brain, dropping my
head out of subspace, for now at least. I was still phase-shifted,
though, so I brushed the hair from the back of my neck, grabbed the
syringe of Phazblox from the coffee table, and shot up.
I looked at the clock. It was 7:32 PM. I'd been in my head for what felt
like hours, and less than two minutes had passed.
I needed a cigarette, and I didn't even smoke.
Maddy
- 25.03.2022
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Rachel Graham s Precious Little Life Prologue
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Rachel Graham s Precious Little Life Chapter 7
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