Hello! This is my first fanfic, so it probably isn't very good. Please review; I could use some feedback and/or constructive criticism! If you like it, I'll upload more chapters.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Beatles. There may be some historical inaccuracies, and I apologize in advance.

Which reminds me, don't worry, there will be more of the Beatles in later chapters. And I know it's short. Later chapters will be longer.

Chapter 1

My life is a disaster.

I mean, seriously, a complete disaster. First of all, my mom, the only person who ever really cared about me, died in a car accident three years ago. And my father… well, he's a really smart scientist who is horribly cruel to basically everyone he lays his eyes on. And of course, there's my brother, who may or may not have mental issues. He tried to murder me once. Luckily, my mom was still alive and able to save me, although somehow my brother got off the hook because he blamed it on a dream or sleepwalking or something like that. Why is it always the bad people that are treated like, I don't know, angels or saints or something? Everybody thinks Devyn is the most perfect little 15-year-old in the history of history. He's not. I speak from experience.

Anyway, today was just an ordinary day in the fantastically horrible life of me, Evie Brown. Just another day of my horrible job as a cashier at whatever that little store is on the corner. I don't even know the name. I don't even care. I'd rather be in college, but my dad refused to pay, and I'm not good enough at anything to get a scholarship. So I'm a twenty-year-old cashier with a dead mother, a horrible father, a mental brother, and the one thing that keeps me from losing the will to live: the Beatles. It's a bit of a secret obsession. And that brings me back to my horrible day at work.

You see, everybody I know seems to think the Beatles were the worst people to ever inhabit the Earth. My boss in particular. So when he found out I was listening to the Beatles on my iPod whenever I wasn't helping a customer, he flipped. He threatened to fire me if I ever showed up at work again with anything- not just the music, anything- Beatles-related.

Like I said before, my life is a disaster.

So now it's 11:17 at night, and I'm trying to fall asleep. Sleep- when it's dreamless- and the Beatles are the only means of refuge I have from my disastrous life. And I know that refuge is waiting for me, if only I could fall asleep. Grr…

After what seems like hours of counting sheep, but was probably only minutes (I'm too tired to look at the clock and comprehend what it says), I finally fall asleep. But just before I do, I whisper something to myself:

"If only I weren't me. If I had a different life, in a different place, in a different time, then everyone would be happy…"