Inkway to Albreton

Chapter One

There was a prince in Jasmine's bedroom. He was wearing a white tunic with gold trim that matched his yellowy blond hair, hair that was barely visible underneath his fedora. The fedora was blue and a large white feather wafted out from its rim. He had a stallion that ducked to avoid hitting its head on the ceiling and neighed a nervous greeting.

"What are you doing in my bedroom?" Jasmine asked the prince. She sounded both shocked and aggressive. Jasmine was an average looking teenager with brunette hair and the body of someone who used to be athletic. She was developing a slight pudge to her belly that made her feel uncomfortable sometimes if she wore her favorite tight, fitted T-shirts. Her bedroom was actually the attic. She had always liked climbing as a child so, when she was about seven, she had demanded her room be the highest place in the house. She wondered if that was such a good idea now that a stallion was ducking to avoid the slanted ceiling. The poor horse looked so claustrophobic. It was understandable; there was only one window, one of those small circular windows that looked out into the yard.

"Princess," said the prince, "I have found a way to jump the rift. Finally, we can be together again! Bless Fragmaroginog! Bless him with good health and riches until the end of time!" The prince held his hand out to Jasmine, who was in her pajamas. These particular pajamas had a repetitious design of sledding penguins that jumped over the same snowdrift over and over again. "Come princess, let us go back together and celebrate your return to the kingdom!" The prince didn't know why Jasmine was giving him that look. "What ails you?" He asked her sincerely, apparently totally oblivious to the fact that Jasmine was playing host to a fairytale prince at three in the morning on a school night.

"I'm dreaming," whispered Jasmine, "I'm sleeping downstairs on the couch and this is a dream and I never even got up to climb up to my room and this is a dream and you know what I'm going back to bed now." With that she pulled the trapdoor closed and climbed back down the ladder that lead up to her room. The prince and his stallion were left to their own devices up in the attic, and you know what, Jasmine didn't care. They were just figments of her imagination anyway. That must be it.

In the morning, she woke up on the couch. It was a ratty old thing, stained with the remnants of food that, no matter how hard Jasmine's mother tried to scrub off, just wouldn't remove themselves. Jasmine remembered getting scolded for eating on it as a child. Speaking of getting scolded, she heard her mother's heavy steps coming downstairs.

"Jasmine! Time to get up," said her mother, who was a plump brunette woman that had recently been dying her hair to get rid of all the whitish gray strands, which had begun poking out from her roots. "Don't want to be late! Bus fare is on the counter!"

Jasmine tiptoed into the hall and climbed halfway up the ladder before her mother descended the last stair. She feigned a yawn, "Morning ma."

"Good morning sleepyhead," said her mother, "I've got a few things to take care of at the shop today, so I'll be home late again. There's extra money on the counter with your bus fare. You could get Chinese or something with it later. Just get my usual and stick it in the fridge for when I get home. Okay?"

"Yeah ma," Jasmine said, "Sure thing."

"Oh, and Jasmine?"

"Hm?"

"You do realize you're still in your pajamas."

"Oh uh. Right," Jasmine let out a nervous giggle, "I should probably change, huh? I forgot."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just all absentminded. You know me in the morning." With that, Jasmine climbed up the ladder and pushed open the trapdoor. She heard her mother yell something from below, a reminder about something, Jasmine guessed, but she couldn't make out the words. Then she heard the door close and the clinking of the lock, followed by the sound of the car driving off. She let out her breath, shut the trapdoor, and climbed down the ladder.