I should admit something to you readers. Before I experienced the events that I talk about in this book, I assumed that most real worlders thought for themselves. You and I can say for certain that there are people out there that do dumb things. That does not mean that they are dumb. We all make mistakes because we are sinners, and there is nothing wrong about that.

I can no longer say that I stand by those terms. Not when I met...them.

For those of you who are not aware, there are some pretty messed up groups in the real world. I will not go over every single group because all forms of politics are banned in Forlot, however, I need to bring up this specific group for the purpose of this chapter.

Have you ever heard the term 'media warriors'? If not, I will explain. And I will do that not through boredom, but through this chapter, so pay close attention.

There are a pair of purple gates and a purple fence that separate the town of Forlot from the rest of the United States and the world. It keeps people who would cause us and the town harm out, and the gates are not allowed to open unless our writer says otherwise.

Oh, man. How "lucky" I was when I was passing by the gates. I immediately overheard shouts from the other side of the gates and stopped in my tracks.

"What the heck is with all that racket?" I said.

I inched towards the gates, and the protest got louder. I grabbed ahold of two of the bars and viewed the situation. I could not believe my eyes.

Never had there been a protest, whether peaceful or violent, in or near Forlot. The townsfolk loved Forlot!

Then I figured that these people were not from Forlot. I put my thumb and finger in my mouth and whistled, hoping to get them to shut up.

The protest died down, and the people shot me angry looks. Some wore hats, and others were holding up picket signs.

I tried to be as polite as I could. "Hello? May I help you?"

A man pointed a finger at me. "Racist!"

"Huh?!"

"Are you the creator of this series?" a woman asked.

"No. My writer is. Why do you ask? And why did that man call me a racist?"

"That man happens to be my intelligent husband, and I agree with him. You are a racist."

"Why do you consider me a racist? We just met."

"You are a Forlot character. Everything that has to do with your racist town is racist."

"Um...first of all, you are white. Second of all, if this is about blacks being in slavery, I was not there, but still feel sorry for the lives that were lost."

"You cannot be sorry," another argued.

"And why not?"

"It is because of your skin color."

I was speechless. I was certain that racism ended in the United States all those years ago. So why were these guys bringing it up?

I felt a tap on my shoulder and saw Libby, Wendow, and Triso. Libby gently pulled me away from the gates.

"I will handle this, Cassandra." She poked her head through the bars. "Listen here, you real worlders. Forlot will never bend to you. You are toxic and need to leave the fictional worlds alone. Also, we do not like you. Now go away!"

She spun around on her heels and strolled up to me. She whispered in my ear.

"If they are not gone in five minutes, I will have to take drastic measures."

I whispered back. "D-drastic measures?"

She poked my chest with her finger. "I will do whatever it takes to keep real worlders out of Forlot."

"Why are you acting like this? Why are you being so cruel to the real worlders?"

"After what they did to our Lubriem, after they murdered her and got away with it, I refuse to show them any mercy."

With that, the scientist stormed off in the opposite direction, and the aliens scooted up to the gates.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is, sis," Triso said.

"I see," Wendow replied. "I was wondering when they would be offended by this book series and cry about it."

"Are either of you the creator?" the first woman asked.

"Nope, and you will not be seeing her," Wendow stated proudly.

"You are a racist," the man called her.

"Hey! If my sister is a racist, then so am I," Triso stood up for Wendow.

He shrugged. "Fine with me."

Triso shook her head with shame. "So much for loving black people."

The woman from earlier spoke. "Look, we just want to see your writer."

"Why?" I piped in.

"We need to chat how she can make the Forlot series less racist."

I quirked an eyebrow. "You are confused. It was not racist to begin with."

"We would also like to convince her to remove a few characters from the books entirely, like Caleb Night."

The aliens looked at each other, and then back at the real worlders.

"That is it!" they proclaimed.

They unlocked the gates and pushed them open. They ran up to the woman and grabbed her.

"How dare you say that our writer gets rid of one of the best Forlot characters!" Wendow shouted at the top of her lungs.

"No real worlder, and I mean no real worlder, tries to erase Caleb Night!" Triso screamed.

Wendow gritted her teeth. "This is why we hate your kind!"

"Yeah!" Triso agreed. "If you talk bad about Caleb, I swear that I will—"

She was interrupted by a female voice. "Wendow? Triso? What is going on here?"

I gasped and hugged Ash. "Ash. Thank gosh that you arrived."

Ash J. hugged me back. "Why are the real worlders here?"

"They want to ruin what you have created!" the aliens yelled. "Do something!"