Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Compulsive ❯ Prologue ( Chapter 1 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Compulsive

Idea started on: 6 March 2006, 11:18 PM (so says my computer)
Chapter Finished: 11 April 2006 (finally got done revising it...)

Your fingers flitted over the car window, a habit you had picked up as a child to calm your nerves if they needed to be. The cool of the window on your finger tips helped ease the unprovoked anxious feeling in your gut, and you were tempted to rekindle an old habit of clicking your tongue to ease the said anxious feeling. You shifted in your seat, uncomfortable with the current position you were in, packed between boxes of items your family had yet to bring to your new home.

You allowed your arm to drop from the window, feeling a certain imbalance with your actions. Lifting your other hand, you pressed the fingertips of the other hand to the window. Another moment passed and your hand came to rest in your lap, your fingers linking together in the usual fashion that you usually used when your hands were not preoccupied with something such as writing, typing on the computer, or some other productive activity.

Straightening up the stack of photo frames on the floor at your feet so that they were perfectly aligned, you scowled into the seat of the car in front of you, where your father sat. Both your mother and father conversed freely, but the sound of their voices were currently drowned out by your own repetitive thoughts (that refused to be lodged from your mind), the reason for your state of anxiety.

“How much longer, mom?” you said, leaning forward to peer between two large boxes that obscured your view of your mother in the passenger seat. It seemed she didn't hear you, as her conversation with your father continued without a pause of indication that she had heard you. Furrowing your brow in a frown, your eyes found their way back to the window in an attempt to dispel your nerves.

Your eyes flitted from side to side as you watched things go past; a tree, a fire hydrant, a bush, a parked car. Watching these every day, ordinary objects helped to ease your nerves if only a little. Out of pure boredom, and to force yourself from your current repetitive thoughts, you counted each of the trees that your car passed as it drove straight-forward.

“There's your new high school, (F/N),” your mother spoke, making you lose your count and you cursed softly to yourself. You grunted in response, another rush of anxiety coming over you at having lost count of the trees that you had been previously watching pass by in a blur.

Closing your eyes and leaning back cautiously onto the seat, you allowed your thoughts to stray once more. 'A new school. I'll have to go through the tedious process of making new friends. Greet them, go through introductions, small talk, invite to house-warming party planned by my mom. ...No, that isn't right. Making small talk and introducing yourself doesn't make you someone's friend, someone that you can invite to your own housewarming party. Does it? Greet, introduce, small talk, invite. Greet, introduce, small talk, invite. Right?'

Your face screwed up in irritation at the feeling you had that you had something wrong, or something about what you were thinking was wrong. Maybe, if you broke it down more, you'd understand it better and know what made what you were thinking of wrongly....

Suddenly, the car jerked, sending you flying from your seat and into the back of your father's leather-covered seat. Your collarbone hit roughly against the chair, enough to cause soreness but nothing more. Shouts and the screech of tires from outside the car jumbled up your thinking process, and your breathing was heavy as your car swerved once more, sending you flying against the window with a grunt escaping your lips. The force of the impact against the now-shattered glass, as well as the sharp pain in your shoulder, made you gasp in shock as your confusion with the situation bubbled over.

A crash could be heard somewhere outside of the car, and something rammed harshly against your side of the car, crushing it inwards and pushing until the car tilted. In shock, you were knocked back away from the window, the crushed metal scratching and tearing into your leg as you pulled away. Your father swerved the car once more, and you barely registered the fact that you had just been in a car accident before the car turned dangerously on two wheels before flipping over onto the side.

Boxes tumbled around, their contents spilling and hitting you as they were thrown around from the car's movements. Then, for a moment or two, the car rocked back and forth on its side, before crashing and coming to rest upside down. Having worn no seatbelt, you fell with the car, landing on your head at an odd angle before passing out.

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Prologues are meant to be short! -.-U The next chapter is exactly.. 3.18 times longer. ..which is better, I guess. ^^ Read, review, and then make sure to read In Half to see someone with an obsessive-compulsive disorder written more accurately and... all around better.

Ja ne
~Vicky (/Madonna-Gap)