The Chronicles of Mount Fuji Part 1

Here is a part of a novel I am writing, “The Chronicles of Mount Fuji”:

The Chronicles of Mount Fuji

Prologue

The alleys of Santa Fe were darker that Tuesday night. And it was surprisingly because of  a young girl. She was painting a beautiful mural on a brick wall. But the painting was creepy. It had people whose eyes followed you everywhere you went. It had deep red lava which looked like blood. And there was a real rose next to the mural that was withering and dying. The girl walked away, leaving her paint behind her. When she left, a boy suddenly ran over to the mural and grabbed the entire red paint can. He ran away and splattered it on the sidewalk. Then he walked away, laughing loudly. He grabbed a pen out of his pocket and took his notebook from his backpack. Then he wrote something with awful handwriting. It was so terrible that no one could read it. It was practically impossible to read. That boy scribbled a drawing that looked like a police officer coming to the sidewalk and arresting multiple innocent people. Then he walked to his apartment and, with a suspicious grin, slammed the door. It was about 9:11 at night. The loud slam woke the girl. She opened the door in a bathrobe and slippers and looked around. Then she stepped outside and walked to the sidewalk. Suddenly she screamed. She thought the red paint was blood. She ran inside her house and slammed the door. And she dialed 911. That slam woke the whole neighborhood. They opened their doors in harmony, all wearing pajamas. They walked to the sidewalk and screamed and stared at the red sidewalk, now with footprints in it. One of the people fainted and landed in the paint with a loud clonk. All of the people rushed inside their houses, dialed 911, and rushed outside again. Three of them helped the man who fainted get back up again. They brought him inside and he decided to take a shower and wash his clothes. The bucket was back in its place, empty. The paint and footprints and body marking made the paint look like blood, and the citizens were convinced. Nothing was in its right place, and it would never be until the mystery of this incident is solved.

Chapter I

Beatrice was an ordinary 14-year-old girl, to say the least. She was happy, had many friends, and was truly loved. But that changed since the incident. Now she was paranoid, shy, and antisocial. She was afraid to try new things and go to sleep in the dark. That was because of the incident. What is the incident? is what you may ask. Well, the incident involved blood, a dark young man, and a withering rose. She was positive all of her relatives had been killed. And she had a feeling that ghosts were haunting her. She believed in the supernatural. But otherwise, she was an ordinary teenager, to say the least.

One morning at school, Beatrice noticed a group of boys laughing about something. Most of them didn’t live in her neighborhood, but one of them did, and his name was Preston. Preston was usually pretty nice, but every once in a while he would do something to get someone else in trouble. Also, he had terrible handwriting. Beatrice eyed Preston cheerfully, and he waved back. Beatrice knew that Preston had nothing to do with the incident. Or did he? That was the question that Beatrice was asking herself mentally.

One day, Beatrice was going to her usual stop for lunch: Dave’s Seafood. They had the best fish and chips. Beatrice loved the shrimp there too. Anyway, Beatrice was walking to Dave’s Seafood, trying to figure out if she wanted fish and chips or shrimp when Dave, the manager, came out of the restaurant. “Hey, Beatrice. I know you want something here, but there’s a flood warning from Colorado. We were advised to get to high ground.” “But I can’t do that!” cried Beatrice. “My house doesn’t have a second floor!” “Well, you can come in,” said Dave kindly. “We have a second floor. Plus, we have fresh fish and chips inside, so you can take that upstairs.” Beatrice smiled. “Thank you,” she gushed. She was glad to be safe.

Beatrice ran inside, grabbed some fish and chips, and headed upstairs. She was starving, so she was happy to have some delicious food, even if it was the last meal of her life, if she died in the flood. But she didn’t think about that. She just thought about how lucky and privileged she was to be safe and have food. Dave ran upstairs at the last second. The flash flood hit.

“Take cover!” screamed Dave. “You’re safe, Beatrice.” But those were his last words. The flood destroyed the entire first floor, and the second floor came crashing down. He fell and got killed from drowning and by suffocating from all the rubble. His lifeless body lay on the ground, dead. Beatrice was miserable. But she didn’t have time for tears. Because at that moment, another wave hit. The town was drowned in water. Beatrice couldn’t see the surface. She couldn’t see which way was up. She knew she was as good as dead.

Beatrice was just about to drown when she noticed a small sinkhole in the ground. She wondered where it led to, so she swam down there. There was a waterfall leading to a cave. It seemed empty. But just then, she noticed something. And it was something that she really, really needed.

It was a person. A real live person. Beatrice was hoping that he would have food. The man in the cave (who introduced himself as Sutībun) welcomed Beatrice and said that he had not had a visitor in years. So this guy lives here? Beatrice thought to herself. Odd. Very odd. 

Beatrice suddenly noticed that the ground was slightly… soggy? “That’s weird,” she muttered. “Well, I have a shovel with me. We can dig a tunnel to get out of here,” suggested Sutībun. Beatrice agreed. They dug a tunnel. It was really big. Beatrice thought it would never end. Finally they started digging up. But they couldn’t climb up, because there was no way. Then, Sutībun had an idea. They could dig diagonally. It seemed obvious. Finally they reached the surface. There was a trapdoor in their way. Beatrice opened it, and they saw daylight once again.

Bangkok, Thailand. Sutībun let Beatrice go out first. They were in Yaowarat, a big bustling neighborhood. Everybody stopped and stared at Beatrice and Sutībun. “I know what this means,” mumbled Sutībun. “It’s happened before.” “จับมันให้ได้! เราจะไม่ยอมรับมัน! เราได้ติดตั้งกับดักนั้นไว้สำหรับการทำเหมือง ไม่ใช่สำหรับให้คนแปลกหน้ามาข่มขู่เรา!” screamed the Thai people. Beatrice immediately ran. Sutībun stayed and tried to explain what this was really all about. “You’re safe, Beatrice!” he called. But those were his last words. For at that moment, everybody trampled over him to chase Beatrice. She knew that Sutībun would never see the light of day again.

Beatrice ran past some places and tried to find where to hide. “No. Nope. Not that either. I don’t think so. No, and no, and no. No, but I’m going in there anyway!” A grocery store! Beatrice dashed inside. “สวัสดีคุณลูกค้า เราต้องปิดร้านเร็วขึ้นเนื่องจากมีคนแปลกหน้าเข้ามา เรากำลังดำเนินการรักษาความปลอดภัย ขออภัยในความไม่สะดวก” announced the loudspeaker. Beatrice grabbed some walnuts and chucked them at the security cameras. The walnuts broke, but the screens shattered as well. Beatrice ran for her life out of the store. She had a bad feeling about this.

Beatrice tried to find Sutībun’s dead body so that she could get his shovel. She found him in a pile of shoes. What a strange way to die. Getting injured by shoes. Beatrice grabbed Sutībun’s shovel and slid through the trapdoor and started digging. She didn’t know where it would take her, and she didn’t care. She just wanted to survive.

So now, it was just dig. Dig. Dig. Dig. Dig… Finally she started digging upwards. She found nothing. She was also starting to get really hungry. Suddenly, Beatrice remembered something. She reached in her pocket and pulled out some soggy fish and chips. She snarfed down every last crumb of that soggy fish like it was her favorite double-decker chocolate chip cheesecake. She started digging again. Finally, she came to a wet slab of concrete. She was joyous. She felt lucky to be alive.

London, England. Beatrice had always wanted to come here. But she didn’t want a repeat of what happened last time. No one seemed to notice after she lifted herself up under a table in a park. Everyone just kept doing their thing like she didn’t exist. But then Beatrice made a stupid mistake. She yelled, “CAN ANYONE SEE ME?! OR ARE Y’ALL BLIND?!?!” Suddenly everyone stared at her, like in Bangkok. But they were nice to her. It turned out that she had lived in London as a toddler. Suddenly she just wanted to go home. But everyone tried to take her back. This situation is like the one in Bangkok, Beatrice thought. She squinted at the town, trying to figure out where to go next. “Tea shop? No. Bakery? No. Grocery store? Of course not. No, no, and no. Not that either. Uh-uh. Definitely not. Not counting on it. Big Ben? WHY WOULD I GO THERE?!?! Buckingham Palace? Wait, what? Fancy, but no. Airport? Well, I don’t wanna go there, but it’s my only choice to escape.” Beatrice ran inside the airport. Suddenly she realized that it wasn’t an airport; it was just a mural. UUUGHH!!!! I’m never going to escape.

Beatrice suddenly had an idea- go into the tunnel that she dug! She zipped inside and covered the entrance with dirt. She dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug. Finally, she reached wet concrete again. But unlike the other times, she just wanted to die.

Tokyo, Japan. Beatrice covered herself with a towel and tried not to be noticed. She had nowhere to go. I might as well die. I’m as good as dead, after all. She ran into a sushi bar. Luckily, she had some money, so she ordered a small meal. She had never been so full in her life. That sushi was delicious. When she was done, Beatrice walked out of the shop, content. But she thought that the sushi would be the last meal of her life. Beatrice didn’t want to die. But she didn’t have a choice. 

Suddenly, Beatrice noticed something. She ran toward it. It was the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen in her life. And fortunately, it would help her survive.

It was Mount Fuji.

Beatrice had seen pictures of Mount Fuji online, but this was different. She was literally seeing it in person. It was colossal. And gorgeous. Beatrice had no idea what to do, though. How did she get here in the first place? Well, I was painting a mural, but it was creepy. There was a withering rose next to the mural. But then I finished it and went to sleep. Then, a few minutes later, a door slammed. That woke me up. I went outside, and there was blood on the ground. I went inside and dialed 911. Then, the next month, I went to Dave’s Seafood. There was a flood, and Dave died. I found a cave, and there was a guy named Sutībun. We dug a tunnel leading to Bangkok. Then Sutībun got trampled on and died. Then I took his shovel and dug a tunnel to London. Then a bunch of people tried to kidnap me. Then I went into the tunnel that I dug, covered myself with dirt, and dug a tunnel to Tokyo, which is here. I enjoyed a meal of sushi, and then I just wanted to die. But then I saw this, decided to, um, somehow use it, and that’s how I got here. But was all this trouble caused by that withering rose? Is this all the effect of black magic? Is something controlling my every step?

Beatrice pondered about this. But she decided to just climb Mount Fuji and get this over with. She took one step, then another. The next moment she found herself hiking up the mountain without really doing anything at all. Suddenly, she felt the need to start running. She sprinted up the mountain extremely quickly. Finally, she reached the top. She saw a couple of dark figures at the top. “Who are these people?” she thought. Then, she heard them whisper, in unison, “You’re safe, Beatrice.”

Huh. That was odd. “Who are you?” Beatrice asked. “Better not to tell you now,” said one of them. “Why not?” Beatrice demanded. “I came all this way, from Santa Fe, where I nearly drowned, then Bangkok, where my new acquaintance died, then London, where I got strangled and almost kidnapped, then I came all the way here, thinking I would die, just for this???” “Well, Bea, you are on national television right now,” said the second figure. “Yeah! And you got an Oscar for your acting!” exclaimed the first figure. “WHAT?! But this isn’t a television show! This isn’t made up! This is all real!!!” Beatrice yelled. “Well, maybe so, Bea. But the show you are on is a reality show called Survivor!” cheered the second figure excitedly. “SO?! I’m just a normal teenager! I am just, what, fourteen? I am not meant to be on TV!!!” Beatrice roared. “Well, no time to explain. But we are going to go to Dubai.” And so they did.

Chapter II

Dubai, United Arab Emirates. Beatrice had always wondered what this place was like. “الناجية! لقد مرّت من أمامنا للتو! إنها معجزة!” people cried as she walked by. She never thought that she would be this popular. But she was. As she walked by, she saw a male announcer on a TV saying, “And now, for Bea Toppleton!” as it showed footage of her climbing the deep tunnel that her and Sutībun had dug. Her jaw dropped and she stared in awe. Had people with big, heavy cameras really been following her this whole time? A TV broadcaster walked by with people with cameras following him. “Ah, there you are, Beatrice!” he said calmly. “We knew you were coming here.” Beatrice could only stare. “Anyway, how do you feel about being on TV in Dubai?” he asked. “I- I don’t- Well- Wh-why did you even put me on TV in the first place? I’m not meant to be on TV! I’m just a normal teenager!” she screamed. “Oh. Well, we wanted to ask you because we are going to stream you internationally!” he squealed excitedly. “Wait, how di-” “Yeah, yeah, we know, you wanna know how we found you and tracked you down. Well, I’m here to explain.”

“We had an old camera in Dave’s Seafood, where your adventure started. When the flood hit, the water suddenly triggered the camera and it started recording. When you went into the cave, the camera fell down with you. When we tracked down the old camera’s location, we noticed the footage of you, so we decided to go into the tunnel that you and Sutībun dug and start recording you.

“When you got to Bangkok, we almost got noticed. Unfortunately, we guaranteed that if we got noticed, then the camera-man would get killed and the footage would be lost. So Mr Camera-man here started dressing up like locals so he would be harder to spot. For example, when you were in London being strangled, he dressed up like a prince and hid the camera under his suit.

“Then, we kept recording and recording for hours on end. When you came here, we decided that this was the perfect time for an interview with YOU, the fourteen-year-old celebrity, Beatrice Toppleton!

Bea was struck dumb. She could only stare at this psychopath. “Why follow me around? Why not follow around Roger, another star on Survivor? Well, I guess he did stream only a few years ago!” she pondered. “He must not be as famous anymore.” A crowd of people was crowded around Beatrice. She was popular enough for now. She sprinted away, leaving a crowd of people behind her.

“Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymo-” “No, I am your fath-” “Deedodeedoopdedoodedoopdededodedoopdedodep BLUEY!” Bea was flipping through channels on TV at home a day or two later. She just hoped that a huge mob of people wouldn’t come and swarm her again. Nothing good to watch. Wait. Is that..? She was on TV, back in Santa Fe! Survivor was on! She decided to skip to the episode with Roger in it. It was her favorite. In that episode, he was walking through a musty corridor, while police dropped bread into his hands. It was fascinating. Then, a sudden thought hit her. If she was on Survivor… She thought it was a reality show. Did that mean..?

At that moment, cameramen rushed in. Sure enough, they grabbed her and took her to the airport for their flight to Fiji. Well, I guess being famous does have its downsides, Bea thought. She struggled and twisted, but these cameramen had an iron grip on her. Her stomach churned. What would the other people think of her, as the only fourteen-year-old girl there? She decided to somehow escape. As she walked with the cameramen through the airport, she grabbed a pen and a notepad from her purse and scribbled this:

Plan to Escape

1. Make sure the camera guys aren’t looking.

2. Tell them “I am getting a drink from Kitty Kafé. I will be right back.”

3. Pray that they show any form of saying “OK”.

4. Run to the hotel, which is like a block away.

5. Tell the manager about the problem.

6. Hope that they will NOT ask you for your autograph, and ask them to hide you.
7. If they do, SUCCESS!!!!! If not, then you are as good as dead.

So that is exactly what Bea did. Luckily, the manager did say yes, and hid her in room 505. Unfortunately, she heard the door opening downstairs. It was the cameramen. They asked the receptionist, “Hey, which room is Beatrice Toppleton in?” Bea started sweating. She went down to the vent and brought her blanket with her, so that she could hide and listen to the conversation both (conveniently) at the same time. She heard the female receptionist saying soothingly, “Oh, I’m afraid I will have to talk to the manager about that.” Bea breathed a sigh of relief. “She’s famous, is she not?” Okay, she knows, I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. Bea heard the receptionist walking into the back room in her high heels and softly closing the door behind her. The receptionist murmured with the manager about it and walked back out into the lobby. “Okay, so she is in room 405. I will give you the room key,” said the receptionist. Bea heard the tinkle of keys and the clicking of elevator buttons. She heard the elevator whirring up to the 4th floor. She expected bellows of outrage when the cameramen opened the door, but… nothing?
Bea was about to go back to her house via the window (somehow) when all of a sudden, she heard a shriek. It was male. “YOU BROKE INTO MY ROOM! YOU’RE GONNA PAY FOR THIS!!!!!” screamed the voice. Beatrice winced. She heard footsteps clomping out of the room. The door slammed. Then, the sound of a hair dryer started.

Suddenly, the dark figures appeared again. One of them climbed through the window, and the other through the door. Bea was terrified of these crazy people. The room spun. Nausea overtook her. Suddenly,

everything

went

black.

~

When Bea woke up, she was in the bathtub surrounded by the two figures. The first one remarked, “You look like you were punched in the face by an obese mole.” The second one questioned, “What do you think that looks like?” The first one repeated, “OBESE MOLE.” Then they cracked up. Bea was more confused than ever. What do obese moles have to do with anything, especially her?! Were they calling her obese?!?! Then they started singing:

“Silent night. Holy night.

AAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAA

[unknown value]”

WHAT THE HECK?!?! How is that supposed to make any sense?! Bea was appropriately baffled. “Anyway,” said the first figure, “we have come to take you to Fiji.” Bea looked closer and knew she was doomed. These people were…

Chapter III

Hubert and Peggy!

THESE PEOPLE WERE THE WEIRDEST PEOPLE AT SCHOOL!!!!!

Peggy said “chicken nugget casserole” all the time and Hubert, was, well, he was best friends with Peggy, so Bea assumed that made him weird too. She was not entirely sure if he was weird at all, though, except the fact that when he was done with his work he raised two thumbs up and smiled creepily.

“HOW THE HECK DID YOU GET HERE?!” Bea shrieked.

*awkward silence*

“Okay, so you DON’T KNOW how you got here?!” Bea yelled. Peggy just shrugged. So did Hubert. Unfortunately, all the screaming attracted the attention of the cameramen, and the three of them heard their footsteps. “Are those security guards???” Hubert whispered. “Dunno,” Bea lied. Hubert and Peggy were worried, so they climbed back out of the window. “Smell ya later,” said Peggy, and a second later, they were gone.

Beatrice wrapped herself in her blanket, hid under the bed, and prayed that the security guards wouldn’t notice her. She heard the door creaking open, and then she saw feet walking across the room and she heard heavy clomps to go along with it. Then they started talking:                                                  _

“Where is that stupid child?”

“No idea.”

“Well, there shall be a great banquet tonight in honor of her landing a spot on Survivor.”

“Yes, maybe we shall see her then.”

–

Then they walked away.

Beatrice heaved a sigh of relief as soon as the door closed. The men were too ignorant to look anywhere else. Beatrice decided to collect as much information about this banquet as possible. Here is what she has so far:

-There are no people with a salmon hair color. If people see me, they will immediately recognize me (because of my salmon hair color) and it will be the London kidnapping all over again. So, I will dye my hair brown.

-Everyone will be dressed casually.

-Boys will have long hair, but girls are required to shave theirs. (If a boy is wearing a long-hair wig, that’s OK too.)

-Nobody will be ordering the premium Atlantic cod dinner, even though it’s usually the most popular item on the menu.

Bea thought this was a pretty weird banquet, but eventually she decided to arrive and gather as much information on these peculiar people as possible. How? Bea was going to spy.

Beatrice biked to the local store and bought some brown hair dye, some flannel pants, and a loose-fitting T-shirt. When the cashier was suspicious about the hair dye, Beatrice thought quickly and claimed it was for her mom. When Bea got back to her room, she immediately used the hair dye. In one hour, Bea’s hair was as brunette as a squirrel in a dead tree at night. Bea put on the flannel pants and thought they were extremely comfortable (she had never worn flannel before) and so was the shirt (which was a Garfield one, like the cat). Now, it was time for the spying part. Bea had brought a screwdriver with her when the security guards took her, so she used that to open the vent in the room. It was actually a pretty big one (pretty strange) so she crawled into it. Before she knew it, she was in the vents and was able to access any room in the hotel at any time. She crawled over to the vents for the banquet room and looked down at the preparation for the banquet. A few of the people participating (five men and four girls) were carrying tables to the center of the room. They were speaking to each other. One of the girls (who had hair like most boys) said, “Why are we having a banquet again? For that girl? I don’t even watch Survivor.” One of the boys teased her by saying, “Maybe you should watch some before the banquet, then. Bea’s gonna become world-famous after this; you should get every last bit of information you can get about her.” Beatrice shuddered. She didn’t want everyone to know every last bit of information they could get about her. She wanted to be a normal 14-year-old living a normal life. Really, why was everyone so obsessed with her? She was just a regular kid compared to Roger and some of the other famously great Survivor contestants. Speaking of Survivor… If the cameramen caught Beatrice and placed her in Survivor, what would the other contestants think of her?

To be continued!