Chapter+7


 * Chapter 7**

“Geez, why did it have to be true?” George thought with a dark, but silent, moan. “Why Samantha?” Of anyone in this Midwestern town, it //had// to be his sister. Why her, the pale, average girl with short mousy brown hair who no one ever looked twice at?

Unlike most kids, George got along well with his sister. Sure, they squabbled a bit, but most of the time they worked well with each other, building all sort of science fiction planets and stories about wars and aliens coming to take over Earth, all with little more than some scrap wood left over from his parent’s building projects (red, of course) and buckets of imagination. They had always dreamed that the stories would come true, and about the fame and fortune that they would gain through stopping the ‘bad guys’ from taking over Earth. George realized that this might have been a stupider idea than they had thought, as it seems that he had been plunked into a sci-fi movie, and he seemed to be losing.

“I hope nothing has happened to her…”

The voice chuckled evilly, and jerked George back to the present with the ugly realization that the voice had read his mind. “Oh, don’t worry about your sister,” in its horrific voice. “She is perfectly safe. Well, perhaps //safe// wouldn’t be the best way to put it…”

George’s heart hit the floor with a large thud, LITERALLY, as if he had been strapped to an elephant and pushed into freefall without warning. Or a parachute. Or even a phone to call his parents. Now, you may be asking yourself, how could George's heart have fallen to the ground literally? It was because of the Queen inhabiting him. You see, the Queen isn't exactly a being; nor is she a ghost, a god, or Chuck Norris. She is a cycle of change, otherwise known to the Buddha as //anicca// (for all of you who actually paid attention in history class)//.//

George, however, had not paid attention. As a result, he was a, to say the least, a bit confused. "Wait a minute," he said, "if you don't have any physical existence how did Sam's dad..." At this point Sam rode into the room on the back of a nudibranch and shouted "Hi, mom!" "Samuel Morguiferus Yarzon Johnson the Third!" shouted the Queen, "How many times do I have to tell you not to bring the family servants into the living room! They aren't potty-trained, and I'd just hate it if any of their excrements marred the surface of my priceless 3rd century Persian rug. Oh, I just cannot stand commoners!"

With that little outburst, George decided that things were probably going to get even weirder. He was right.