Yep! I am doing a story with my muses! You won't be seeing Eragon and Freya in this chapter, but you will soon!

I don't own Erik or PotO. Aemilia I own, seeing as she is a part of me. Arget I actually do own. No, I'm serious! He's real! Yes, he's a necklace, but he's real! Clay, Miranda, and Kriss are actual people, but their names have been changed.

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Monday. I hate Mondays. Start of a new week, the end of a weekend, and often a quiz in Bio. I hate Mondays.

But not this one.

No school today. So I choose to spend all day on the computer, playing RPG games, writing random stuff like this, and messing around with nothing in particular. Yep. You could say I was bored. On the contrary, I was far from it. You see, the whole time I was doing this, I was chattering away with a group of five very unique people. Actually, I don’t know if they can even be considered people, seeing as they only exist in my imagination. I don’t even-

“Hey!” A sharp voice broke me out of my reverie. I had been sitting cross-legged on my bed, writing the day’s entry in my journal. I looked up to see the very annoyed face of Aemilia, who was my opposite in just about every way. “I am to a person!” I sighed and rolled my eyes as I slammed my journal shut.

“Yes, I know. And how many times do I have to tell you to not read my journal?” Aemilia stood and crossed her arms with a huff.

“I didn’t read it.” She tossed her honey blond hair in a way that screamed “snob”.

“Then how did you know what I was writing?”

“I heard you, Rena. You were saying the words out loud when you were writing.” Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten that I do that from time to time.

“That doesn’t mean you can listen.”

“Of course I can! I’ve got ears, don’t I?” she asked incredulously, throwing her hands up in aggravation. Normally I let other people get her all worked up like this, but I was annoyed. It’s not like that mattered, anyway.

“Just because you can-” I started.

“Doesn’t mean I should. Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it already.” I sighed again and got off my bed. I took the journal and locked it in my desk drawer; I don’t like people reading what I consider to be private.

“Vos operor teneo ut ut obfirmo est non iens ut subsisto Erik, vox?” Aemilia inquired in Latin. (A/N: “You do know that that lock isn’t going to stop Erik, right?”)

“Of course I know!” I snapped. I was not in a good mood. I had been pretty happy five minutes before my opposite decided to intrude in my private thoughts, but not anymore. “It’s to keep people like you from reading it!” I knew very well a lock was no obstacle for my house’s resident ghost. Erik was a devious man. I admit to being in love with him once, but now I realize what a jerk he can be. But, having the former Phantom of the Opera around did have its advantages: he was the one person who could shut Aemilia up for more that two seconds.

The sound of claws against tile met my ears. Any normal person would think it was a dog, or a cat. But not me. The source of the sound ran to my doorway and into my bedroom. It was about the size of a house cat. That is, if a house cat was silver, reptilian, and had wings. What was even more out of the ordinary (whatever that means!) was when the silver dragon opened his mouth to speak.

“Rena, Erik is trying to Punjab Clay again!” the dragon whined in his metallic voice. I scowled, and stomped out of the room, the dragon trailing behind me.

“What did Clay do this time?” I asked the dragon, Arget. Clay was my younger brother, and just about the most annoying person on the face of the Earth, besides Aemilia, that is. He was always getting on Erik’s nerves. I don’t even know why Clay constantly bugs the Phantom out of his wits. Oh, wait, yes I do. Erik, being a ghost, can’t kill, strangle, or otherwise hurt anyone. He just goes right through them, except when he isn’t trying to inflict pain, that is. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though.

“Dunno,” Arget replied, flying up and setting on my right shoulder. “You’ll have to ask him. All I saw was Erik taking out his lasso holding it in a very menacing way while Clay was saying something in gibberish.” Oh yeah, Arget only understands me and the other muses. Not sure why. It’s got something to do with him being a part of my imagination or something logical like that.

“Erik! Clay!” I shouted as I walked into the living room. Erik was trying and failing miserably to punch my fourteen-year-old brother. Clay was laughing hysterically as The Phantom’s fist passed through his head again and again. They froze and looked at me. Clay looked mildly alarmed, and Erik seemed very annoyed. “What is going on here?” I demanded.

“Your muse tried to kill me again,” Clay grumbled, his arms crossed. He looked like a turtle just then; he was trying to shrink into himself, as if that would make my anger sting any less.

“I can see that. I want specifics.” Clay just stared at the floor, refusing to answer. I turned to my muse. “Erik? Care to input?” There was silence for a moment before the Phantom answered.

“Votre frère a essayé de voler mon masque,” he muttered in French.

“English, please,” I prompted.

“I said, ‘Your brother tried to steal my mask’,” Erik repeated, his words tilted by a very thick French accent. I sighed loudly.

“Why?” Both were silent. I rolled my eyes exasperatedly. “Fine, don’t tell me. Just don’t fight anymore, ok? I don’t want to have to kick one of you out of this house, Clay.” I emphasized my brother’s name in a way that made him flinch. He knew I liked Erik more than him, so there was a better chance of me getting rid of him than my muse any day.

“By the way,” I said as I started to leave. “Kriss and Miranda are coming by later today. Erik, you’d better behave. No trying to Punjab Miranda again.” He opened his mouth to argue, but I interrupted. “I know she annoying, but she’s my friend. So shut up.” I turned to my brother. “And Clay, I want you gone. I don’t want you hitting on Kriss anymore. Got it?”

“Yes, Rena,” they said in unison. I grinned, my dark mood finally lifted. Kriss and Miranda were my best friends of all time. Kriss, or Kristina, as her mom called her, was my age, and we had almost everything in common, from favorite foods to color preferences to allergies. Miranda was two and a half years older than us. She was short, but always hyper and excited, even if there was nothing to be excited about.

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An hour later, I was sitting at my computer, playing one of those anime online RPG games. I was getting very into it, I have to say. As in, yelling angrily whenever my character took damage in a fight, and cheering randomly whenever something went right. Yeah, I was in my own RPG-induced world. And you can guarantee that I was a bit crazier than normal when the extremely annoying doorbell my parents installed jolted me out of my happy place. I scowled for a brief moment before grinning. I ran to the door excitedly, almost tripping over my cat in the process.

I opened the door to see my two best friends. Miranda immediately wrapped her arms around me in an exuberant hug.

“Hello to you, too!” I laughed, prying her from me. She may just barely come up to my shoulder (I’m pretty tall), but she was still strong enough to almost knock me over.

Kriss followed the older girl in with a friendly smile that mirrored mine. Honestly, we could have passed as twins! The smile remained in place as she looked warily through several doorways.

“Relax,” I told her, “My brother is at the movies with my dad. They won’t be back for a good two hours.”

“Good,” she sighed in relief. The mild tension that had made her stiff moments before was gone.

I led my friends into the living room, and was warmly greeted by Arget, who chirped happily before flying up into Kriss’s arms and rubbing his face on her chin. Kriss scratched his tiny ears, and he started to purr, exposing how cat-like he was. Miranda sat down on the couch and reached into her backpack for her list of ideas for the story the three of us were working on. We hadn’t decided on the title, or even most of the plot; we just threw around random ideas when we got them. She had barely taken it out when her head snapped up.

“Hi Erik!” she shouted. He froze, muttering under his breath. I giggled; he was probably cursing that he hadn’t made it past Miranda without her noticing. I swear, it was like she had Phantom-radar, or something!

“Good day, mademoiselle,” Erik greeted courteously through clenched teeth. His voice was cold and sharp, meant to cut Miranda’s spirit, but it had the opposite effect. She grinned wider than she already had been and opened her mouth, probably to ask some random question. She was cut off, however, by a haughty voice.

“I would shut up if I were you,” Aemilia said. She leaned against the door frame, her arms crossed in front of her, and an arrogant smirk on her face. “You never know how far you’ll be able to push him before he cracks.” She snorted. “Well, more than he already has, anyway.” Erik stormed over to her. He reached into his cloak and pulled out his lasso. Aemilia just stared up at him, plucking at her silver necklace. The pendant on it was a silver dragon, just a miniature version of Arget, only it wasn’t alive.

Erik yanked the rope menacingly, but Aemilia was not deterred. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. They were always fighting!

“Enough, you two!” I shouted at them. “Can’t you get through one day without trying to get at one another’s throats?” Aemilia glanced at me.

“Nope!” she laughed. I shook my head as they left to their respective neutral zones. They were my muses. Annoying, but I loved them all the same.

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And there you have it! An intro to my daily thought process and my muses!! Woot!

Make me happy and review please!