AN: New story, hope it will be a hit. .

Save the Whales

I stared as the numbers flew by. I was slightly uncomfortable in the crowded elevator, I never liked crowds. But I needed to get up to the fifteenth floor, today was an important interview for an important job. The job was for an acting agency. I dressed neatly in a gray dress suit with a white shirt. It was that important! I dusted off imaginary dust and straightened my dress for the umpteenth time today. I glanced up at the numbers to see that my floor was coming up. I tried to grope my way out, reaching out my arms as far as I could and trying to maybe pull myself out. With the help of other people; hehe, thanks very much.

It was only five floors away!

I gasped and dove in, squeezing my way out.

I heard a ding and I knew it was my floor. Luckily, I managed to squeeze out of the elevator before my floor passed. I popped out and stumbled straight into someone. I brushed a red strand back and glanced up at the person I ran into.

It was a man, obviously. He looked like some bigshot manager; with his cool shiny sunglasses and about fifty bodyguards around him. I just hoped he wasn't mines.

"I'm sorry." I apologized, bowing down. I glanced up at him again to see that he only sent a distasteful glance my way and walked away.

Well whoopdeedoo, I grumbled in my head, hurt. He sure was rude, but I shrugged. Thankfully, I won't see him again. He was cute though; shaggy, soft blonde hair and probably blue eyes from those sunglasses.

I glanced at my watch and hurried down the hall. I was late for my interview! I half ran, half tripped to the companies front door. My black heels wasn't really helping. I stumbled through the doors and almost ran into the reception desk.

"Um, I'm Wendy Tiller. I'm here...for the..interview." I puffed.

"Oh sorry, Wendy. The job has been already filled." the receptionist apologized fakely. She glanced back down to filing her nails, completely ignoring my presence.

I dejectedly turned around and walked out the doors. My job was gone. Just like that, snatched away from me by probably a millisecond. I slowly walked back down the halls towards the elevator, my heels clicking sadly on the marble floor. I pressed the button for the elevator and waited for the elevator, silently brooding over who took my job. Probably some blondie with big boobs.

I heard the elevator doors open and I looked up. There he was again, the bigshot man. Only without his fifty bodyguards. He saw me, probably recognized me, then glared at me.

Okay, heres the first thing that went wrong. If it had been any other day, I would have turned the other way and used the stairs. Me, being a naturally avoidant person who hates awkward situations. But today, I wore heels which were a big pain, so I had no choice but to use the elevator.

And the second thing, I should have noticed it at first, the emergency call button was damaged.

See, I should have noticed it earlier. Not after I had walked into that darned piece of machinery and was already pressing the button for the first floor.

I stood back and huddled myself into a corner. I stood as far away as I could from the intimidating man. His glare still hadn't worn off yet and it was obvioius that he didn't like me, for some reason. Who can dislike me so quickly? I sighed and sulked to myself.

Then things became worse, there was low boom and the elevator shook. The lights flickered and I was thrown from my little corner, right into the man. I clenched my eyes closed and put my hands in front of me to brace the fall, but I somehow pushed the man down with me. I slowly opened my eyes to see the man's furious blue eyes staring back at me.

Oh no!

I shot away and huddled myself to the wall.

"I'm sorry." I apologized. "I didn't mean to! I swear."

He only sent me an annoyed glance from the corner of his eye and sat up straight. He stood up and reached for the emergency call button, only to see that it was cracked and stuck. He banged it and cursed under his breath.

"Great! I'm stuck in an elevator with a desperate woman." he grumbled under his breath, but I could hear it.


"What are y-you talking about?! I-I am not desperate!" I exclaimed, my words faltering. He was still very intimidating.

"Right. You fell on me that easily." he spat, plopping down on the wall opposite of me.

I'm really clumsy! But I decided not to vocalize that, instead I remained silent. I glanced around, looking for a way to escape. Anyway would work! A tornado appearing and sucking me away or the elevator floor opening and swallowing me. Anything was better than this! But sadly, the floor did not open. I softly pounded it with my fist, meanie elevator.

I stood up and starting pressing all the buttons, hoping one will be the answer.

"What are you? Stupid? The elevator is broken, so nothing works!" the man snapped.

I ignored him, he was just grumpy.

I pressed down all eighty floors, including the open door and close door buttons. I pressed the fire alarm button and bells immediately started sounding. I covered my ears from the sound.

"What have you done?" he barked.

"Leave me alone." I muttered. He's been criticizing me all this time and he doesn't even know me.

I waited for help. The fire alarm should have alerted someone. Someone to save me from the poisonous words of this man. At long last, I heard the poundings of people.

"Are you okay in there?" a distant voice called.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Please get me out of here!!" Note the me. That man can stay as long as he wants, but I do not want to be stuck with him. I dared a glance behind me to see him with his sunglasses on, cool as ever.



I sat at the cafe with a warm cup of caffeine in my hands. I needed some because of my life scarring experience with the rudest man ever. Life really sucks for me. I lived in the wonderful designer clothing filled New York City living without a penny. I'm clumsy and unlucky. And I get those darned visions. It keeps snapping at me, taking over me. Damn my stupid genes that just had to be arranged the way of my psychic grandmother. Argh.

It all started when I was nine, I was petting my pretty kitty cat when I suddenly saw a vision of it being run over by a truck.

Of course, I was petrified. I ran to my grandmother, who lived in the house with my family and me.

"Nana! Nana! Whiskers is going to get run over!!!" I cried.

"Oh no, silly. You're probably just dreaming." she laughed, not knowing of my powers yet. "Come here, Whiskers." she cooed to the black and gray striped cat.

It hopped up into her lap and my grandma froze.

"How did you know that Whiskers was going to get run over?" she asked in a chilled voice.

"I had a dream!!" I said, still crying.

"Oh dear. I thought I was the only psychic. Sara!" my grandmother called.

"Yes, mom?" my mom stepped from the screened door.

"Your child has inherited my powers." my grandmother smiled.

"But I don't want these powers!!" I whined. "Whiskers is going to be run over!"

So for the next few days, I kept Whiskers inside the house. Not letting him outside for anything. Until one day, he escaped and was killed by a truck coming at a dangerous speed right outside our house. I was sad for days, I even gave it a funeral.

Since then, I always thought my psychic powers were a curse. Cursing me of horrible luck and ill-ridden futures. Some of them I were able to change. Some I weren't. It all depended on my fate. But I still hated this curse, even though my grandmother kept saying it was a gift. Gift, my butt.

I chugged down my coffee and put my empty coffee down with unneeded force.

Later, I picked up an empty coffee cup and put it on my tray as I skated into the kitchen.

"Hey Bob, an order of two cheeseburgers with no pickles and a large basket of fries." I rambled off the order, setting down the tray. I rolled out of the kitchen and to the next customers.

Waitressing was a bad job for someone as clumsy as me, and on skates nonetheless. But somehow, I got this job down. I managed to avoid other rolling waitresses and running into things. It was the only thing I could do without messing up.

Yay for me I guess, I get to roll around in a pink dress with a white hat and serve people food earning $7.50 an hour. Since I didn't get that other job, I guess I'm stuck with this one.

I just finished skating two orders into the kitchen when I heard a commotion outside. I heard screams and yells, happy screams and yells. I don't know why, but my curiousity got the best of me. I rolled out of the diner I worked at and saw a big crowd with reporters surrounding a car.

I stood on my tiptoes, balancing precariously on the tip of my roller skates. Reporters were furiously snapping photos and the fans' screaming seemed to go up an octave as each second passed.

"Oh my god, it's Travis Meilerson!" I heard a fangirl screech.

Oh, a superstar. I see. I heard a car door slam and the crowd's screams seemed impossibly higher than it already was. I stood on my tiptoes again and saw the blonde man with the exact same sunglasses step out of the car.

Oh my god.

Then a vision hit me that knocked me off my feet, literally.

The man held up his sniper gun, looking through the eyepiece. He spotted the blonde man from his perch on the roof. Crowds from the festival on that day surrounded him. The atmosphere of joy, soon to be disrupted. He pointed it at the man, Travis Meilerson, who was standing in the middle of the crowd. Standing out like the day in night. He inched is finger onto the trigger.

"Goodbye Travis." he smirked, and swiftly pulled the trigger.

My eyes snapped open and I found myself sitting on the sidewalk, being knocked down by my vision. Thankfully, I landed on my bum. So there was only a brief ache.

I stood up to see that the car has driven away, Travis was missing, and the crowd was dispersing. My eyes scanned everywhere for him. He was gone. Damn.

He was going to be killed. Travis, the rude man from the elevator. I pondered on the thought of superstar Travis Meilerson dying. Sure, I never knew him. All I knew was that he was a rude, criticizing man. I wouldn't mind if he died. But what of the public? They would sure be outraged....I shook my head. This is none of my business.

I carefully stood up and skated back into the diner, being briefly yelled at for skipping my job, and returned to my job as a waitress.


AN: Soooooooooo...yah....FAST PACED DUDE!