The man who tagged me stands nearby. The moment I stand, he whips out a club big enough to smash my skull in, and raises it to slam into me.

I stumble away and drop to my knees, praying my Ninja Turtle shield won't crack. Heat flares at my core, beneath the medallion touching my chest.

His blow lands, but I barely feel it. I'm more surprised by the arc of purple sparks that fly off the shield at impact and light up a small dome around me. His club glances off, and the pale purple-pink shield around me fizzles and disappears.

I may be new here, but I'm no fool. I'm not about to wait for him to find a spot not protected by the magic shield. I dart off at a sprint, this time aware of where I'm headed.

Puffing hard, I'm breathless before I reach the tree line, my thighs burning like crazy. I weave through the fighting warriors to the first tree I spot with branches low enough for me to reach.

Just like when I ran from the bullies in school. I was that nerdy kid who had glasses when she was six, braces all through high school, and sat in front of the class because I actually enjoyed school. My world revolved around my books and I made up excuses to skip gym class because I have no athletic bone in my body. Being humiliated as the person no one wanted on their team left a mark, one that got worse when my parents divorced.

I felt like everyone hated me, even my dad when he left.

To escape my life, I used to climb the tree in my front yard and sit with a book until it was too dark to read. I could pretend my world was better, different, happier, when I was in my tree.

I really need that safe, secure escape from reality now.

I throw myself into the task of climbing the tree with relish, anxious to get away from my pursuer and the gruesome battlefield.

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He snags one leg. I smash my other heel into his face and he lets go. Maybe I should feel bad, but I'm envisioning him being Tracey Smith, the leader of the girls who used to torment me until I graduated high school.

Or maybe, I'm envisioning Jason, who I wanted so badly to punch, except he broke up with me over the phone, so I couldn't.

I really hate my life. Not only did I get stuck in a book, I didn't even get to change who I am. My hips aren't thinner and my bad luck is fully intact.




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