I walked into the kitchen and there was a bowl of Rice Krispies on the table waiting for me. "You're lucky. You had half a minute left," I grunted in acknowledgement and walked over to the toaster. Toast was my only available option. I hated when my sister didn't play fair. She handed me two slices of bread when I got to the counter and I stared at her increduously. "What? I can't be nice to my sister in the morning?" I didn't even grace her with a response. I grabbed a glas of orange juice while my bread toasted and spat it back out when Ingrid said, with a smirk, I may add, "I thought you might like some. I bought it this morning." I sat it down, hard, on the table and grabbed my toast out of the toaster.
"Where's the butter?" If I was going to have toast for breakfast I was going to have butter on it.
"Oops!" Ingrid put her hand over her mouth and acted all surprised and sheepish. I didn't buy it for a second. "Did I forget to tell you? Oh silly, stupid me! I used the last of the butter yesterday morning and forgot to buy more at the store!" She smiled and looked all apologetic. Our parents may've bought that crap but I was smarter. "But you know what goes really good with dry toast? Some eggs, a little bit of bacon, one of my sausages, and a dash of pepper inbetween the slices." I stared at her with a blank look on my face while she waved a pan of eggs in front of my face.
"I would take her offer if I were you. Those eggs smell delicious."
I jumped. That was definitely not Ingrid's voice. It actually sounded like the person cared. "Who's there?" I turned around as quickly as I could and kep turning, trying to see my whole kitchen at once. The moments I could see Ingrid's face she looked annoyed. "Look, if you don't want to eat my food than don't eat at all! You don't have to pretend there's someone else here for an excuse!" She slammed down the pan and left the room in a huff.
"Ah, good: she's gone. I was getting tired of this hiding. It's really exhausting."
I whipped my head around again and, all of a sudden, there was- "Meria?" She nodded, with a small smile on her face.
"I was hoping you'd remember me. I know my story didn't last very long." Meria shrugged her shoulders and pointed to the gash in her side that had stained her green tunic. I didn't have to look: after all, I was the one who had written what had happened to her. She was my latest hero: the one who crushed me the most when she died. I had had such hopes for her...
"Wait!" She looked at me strangely with a question in her eyes. "How are you here? I wrote about you! You're an elf! B-but-" Suddenly, Meria began to fade. Right in front of me. Just: blam. I could see my kitchen counter through her. She looked exasperated as she looked up to my ceiling.
"Oh, fine," she said in a huff. She turned back to me and the last thing she said was, "All will be explained. Just write the next story."