This first chapter takes place in our world, but don't worry! By chapter two, the OC will find herself somewhere else entirely!

Chapter 1

My life began on the night it ended. Yes, that's quite a statement to make, but I do believe it to be true. The events that delivered me from the mundane life that I now remember little of may have led me to death or to life. But either way, they led me to the same place that thirteen dwarves were led that night. To Bag End.

I tended to attract trouble wherever I went, but for some reason, I thought I could get through a school dance without causing havoc.

I had jumped at the chance to get out of the house for the night. My parents were still out and they didn't care what I did even when they were at home. As much as the music and the people made my ears ache, the silence was worse, so I had put on one of the useless and expensive dresses that my mother always tried to force me into, and a pair of heels that could easily have doubled as tent stakes, and I drove myself to the dance.

Upon my arrival at school, I had found the most comfortable corner of the gym floor, and proceeded to open my book. After an hour or so I looked up to find big Bill Stetson glowering down at me. Apparently I was blocking his route to the punch bowl, and he had come to ask me to move. He looked like a small mountain from where I was sitting, so naturally, I put my book down and stood to face him. It didn't help much. Even in heels I barely topped five foot.

"Can I help you?" I inquired skeptically.

"You're in my way, dwarf!" he scoffed back.

If there was one thing I couldn't stand, it was insults about my height, but I was determined to ignore Bill, so I looked down. I was pleased to see that my useless designer dress had dust all over it, and I smirked in anticipation of the rant I would get from my mother. Bill, unfortunately, seemed to think that my facial expressions were aimed at him.

"You think I'm funny, midget?" he taunted.

And that pushed me over the edge.

I brought my heel down on his oversized foot, too late realizing that I was still wearing my stiletto heels. They turned out to be less like tent stakes, and more like steak knives. My heel pierced his shoe and became stuck in what I fervently hoped wasn't his foot. He let out a piercing shriek that told me exactly how much it had been his foot. I can only remember parts of what happened next. I tried to pull my heel out of his shoe and there was another scream. Somehow I ended up on the floor, my head on my backpack and a sharp pain in my ankle. He must have pushed me down in his anger. I silently prayed that everything was over, but I knew it wasn't. A small crowd had gathered around me, and Bill was in the midst of them holding my shoe over his head and yelling the school fight song. I groaned as I looked down to see my ankle was red and bloody. He had yanked the shoe off and was now parading it around like he owned it! He could keep it for all I cared, I just wanted to leave the place.

No one offered me a hand up, or even a sympathetic face. They would all back Bill in whatever stunt he attempted. I wasn't strong or athletic, but I wasn't about to lie there while they all goaded on that troll! I pushed myself to my feet and picked up my book.

At first no one seemed to notice my movements, but when I had collected my leather backpack, and begun to move to leave the gym, all eyes turned to me. I owed them no explanation, and I should have just left. But I wanted the last word.

"I'm really sorry Bill," I said in a tone that held no sincerity what so ever.

"Oh ya here that?! The little rugrats sorry!" He jeered back at me.

"Yes!" I snapped. "The little rugrat is very sorry that you can't play football with an impaled foot!"

I didn't think he would catch onto what I had said very quickly, so I turned once more to leave. I heard a roar from behind me and ran. So he wasn't as stupid as I had previously thought.

I heard Bill's thunderous footsteps behind me. Even with an injured foot, he was faster than me. My only hope was to get to the car.

After around three steps, I realized that running with one foot injured, and the other ensnared in a stiletto was much easier said than done.

Nevertheless, I bit back the tears that sprang to my eyes and kept going.

I put anger into each step that I took.

Anger towards my school for only having one chaperone for a dance.

Anger towards my parents for never being there except to yell at me.

Anger towards myself for being a socially crippled idiot who couldn't stay out of a fight to save her life.

I skip-hobbled my way out of the school and across the back parking lot and had almost made it to my car when I realized something was wrong. Yes, somehow, something was more wrong than a psycho chasing me across a parking lot wielding a shoe. My jacket was gone. I had left it hanging in the school. I put everything in there! And here, everything means my car keys!

I groaned at the realization and began to hopelessly pull at the handle of my silver sedan. I hadn't expected it to work so by the time Bill's gang caught up to me I was resigned to whatever fate they brought upon me. The familiar feeling of defeat washed over me as I was grabbed hold of and my arms were shoved behind my back.

"To the creek!" I heard someone yell.

I laughed bitterly. Our school was out in the middle of nowhere. Five miles from the nearest anything. And the creek? The creek was a roaring river gorge that lay an easy five-minute walk from the back of our school. An easy five-minute walk, that is, if you have the proper use of both feet and are not wearing one stiletto. Two of Bill's cronies half walked half dragged me to the "creek" while a small crowd laughed and talked as if they were headed off to an evening picnic.

I rolled my eyes once again. They had somehow snuck alcohol into the dance. The two buffoons dragging me reeked of the stuff.

I feeling of dread crept into my bones as we drew near to the creek. This rowdy group of high school kids would have no recollection of any of this when they woke up the next morning.

The last rays of sunlight disappeared below the horizon, along with any hope I had of getting away. Bill was a bully, sure, but I had potentially ended his football career, and he was livid. The group stopped at the edge of the river and I was forced to lean out over the roaring water. It filled my ears, and Bill might have said something, but I couldn't hear. Someone knocked me over the head and as I felt my vision go, I was dropped and I fell into nothingness.