My name is Anastasia.

I exhaled slowly as I watched Lord of the Rings credits roll across the screen on the first "snow day" of the year. I almost wish that life today was as simple as it was back then, in the medieval days and in stories: Bad Guy that wants to "Rule them all" and the only explanation is to, naturally, destroy the evil dude and move on. Throw in a few tragedies and heroes all sorts of sub plots and such and voila! ... Here comes a tale that some weird creeper makes billions off of. "Oh well," I think. "I suppose it passes the time."

The story I have written in the pages of my life has so far been simple and, sadly, not worth the bother of telling to too many people. The only "moving" things I've had the audacity to share include that of a split up family that seems to be reoccurring in greater spread of the infection; of broken parents who become bored of their love for each other, have children after a year, then split up because of a bond that holds not a flame strong enough to bear doubt and temptation.

I've been sick lately. Caught a cold from my step-mom, I guess. I slowly got up from the couch as the heating blanket fell unceremoniously to the ground in a heap from my shoulders. I breathed in as the cool air swooped and caught a hold of my once warm skin.

'I might as well enjoy the snow a little bit before Elizabeth (my stepmother) decides that I've been sitting on my lazy ass too long". I stretched my arms 'till I heard the satisfactory pop of my limbs and grudgingly looked for my shoes. I found them lazing around the sliding door which I dragged open as the frigid winter air crawled into my jacket, that I had kept on due to the already freezing air inside.

Taking my first few steps outside, I stumbled down the slope leading a steady slope downwards from the house. 'I never really liked the design of our house.' I thought dejectedly. It was strange, because my parents decided to build onto an older house that they so lovingly call "The Stone House". That old and slightly pioneerish look it had combined with modern looks of the added parts was simply strange. Sighing belatedly I began to head down towards the field in middle of the property. I stepped down the well-worn trail the dogs had left behind and trudged down the slope to the dry streambed below. I whistled a small trill and quietly overheard a blue Jay reply in call. After "talking" with the birds for about five seconds I rambled on a bit farther.

In the summer, when the thunder bellows and the rain becomes a torrent of raging water, the small stream that slices a highway through the field floods with power and becomes a river. One could see the remnants of the flood's anger as it tore down trees and their limbs in its path to who-knows-where. When I heard the scream of one of the common red tailed hawks that nested around the trees growing nearby, I woke from one of my usual dazes. I noticed one of the Turkey vultures (also common here) circling off over where the bubble rocks were. The bubble rocks were located near the hill in the center of our eighty acres. They look like popcorn that's been melted together under a ball of slightly sparkly plaster. I remember learning somewhere that they got like that when limestone is constantly having water drip off them, which is probably why I find them near there. My guess is that there was once a cave down there.

I looked towards the ground once again and watched my feet move in a dull thud, once again falling into an apathetic daze. "Life in Kansas has done me well so far," I thought as I headed further toward the center of my parents' eighty acre land that they have yet to put to use. Over in the center is where I find many of the so-called popcorn rocks. One thing I've noticed about this area is the land seems to sink like its slowly being swallowed up.

Suddenly I heard a loud snap like something cracking into place.

I jumped and turned, panicked, to see what lay behind me, and saw nothing

"Silly Ana, no-one's there," I muttered to myself. I knocked my head with my fist and trudged on noticing I had once again gotten lost in my thoughts. Out of breath, I finally reached the pop-rock zone. I noticed the ever present earth beneath my feet shift slightly like a sponge. I smiled at the sensation, and took another step watching my shoe sink into the dry, red earth.

Suddenly I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand stock strait. I knew something was watching me. I whistled nervously and walked forward thinking of what that odd snap could have been really caused by. 'Maybe it was mountain lion? I heard those things have been coming in closer lately…' After a while I concluded it must have been one of the three dogs we have at home, when abruptly I heard a heart stopping lurch like a piece of bone snapping under the skin. I screamed, like any other sensible person and dashed toward home. My feet tangled beneath me, and as I fell I looked below to see the earth being swallowed into darkness as pieces of muck and rock fell into the gaping abyss. I grabbed on to the nearest rock I could find and held for dear life.

"Help!" I breathlessly yelped as I slipped, whimpering and crying. My muscles screamed and I felt the rock sliding from its loose grip on the earth. Many times have I pondered death but I wasn't ready yet! I cried as the rock popped loose like a cork in a bottle. I fell. I screamed until I noticed, even after a few moments, I was still falling! I peered up from the abyss, for what I almost knew to be the last, and I saw the sun. Then,

Nothing.