Chapter 1

Just thought I'd try this out, the idea has been bugging me for a while. I actually just wanted to get this out of my system, so tell me what you think. I am not actually in this story, just how I would act and stuff if this happened to me. I'm also older in this than I really am, so Catie and Tori, tell me what you think I should make you as. You guys are actually in this, so try and figure out which of you are which. All names and places have been changed for safety reasons, except for the obvious ones. Like Ezio. Yes, long-time fans (however few there are), I'm changing it up a bit. Ezio is very hot, even though he is such a man-whore.

OK, let's get this show on the road. BTW, this isn't a songfic, I just like music in my stories. They cannot survive without it, just like me.

Song for this chapter: Unwritten (No one else, no one else can speak the words on your lips. Drench yourself in words unspoken, live your life with arms wide open. Today is where your book begins! The rest is still unwritten . . ."

Reep. Reep. Reep.

God, do I ever hate this alarm clock. I shot my arm out from the warm shell of blankets and fumbled for the tiny, tiny switch on my old-fashioned clock. I flicked the plastic button, and the horrid mechanical electric beeping halted. I smiled I my half-sleep and turned over, tugging my blissfully warm blankets up to my chin and attempted to go back to sleep. But being such a stupid genius like I am, my past self, and smarter self, set this alarm for that particular reason; I would never be able to go back to sleep now. Groaning, I threw off the soft covers and flopped out of bed, actually tripping and falling as I walked to my dresser.

Sleep began draining away from me as I popped my neck and began rifling through my dresser for something that I deemed worthy of wearing today. I settled for a blue top with short sleeves that came to my mid-upper arm and light jeans. A silver chain that was so fine it rivaled a strand of a spider's web was my selected jewelry. Now, for my regular Saturday schedule—abandon any inclinations to do any writing whatsoever, and sit on my ass all day and play old video games. If you all are wondering why I set my alarm on a Saturday, I don't know. Habit, I guess. I've had Assassin's Creed 2 for years, but it was still on my all-time favorite games list.

I popped the disc into the PS3, because even though I know Assassin's Creed is really an Xbox 360 game, I've always been a PlayStation girl. Assassin's Creed is rather dated by today's standards, it being several years since the game's release. But I have always loved it.

The signature white screen loaded the tiny black line up to halfway. And freaking froze. I sighed exasperatedly.And here I was, thinking that I might actually get to enjoy a nice afternoon of being lazy and now the thing wouldn't even load properly! I was so frustrated; it was too early for this. I decided to rely on the universal remedy for early morning distress: coffee!


After a few hurried minutes spent brewing up the dark caffeinated liquid, I sighed and threw myself into a kitchen chair. I loved my chairs; they hung from the ceiling by a single smooth white support and were red, cushiony and egg-shaped. Jumping into them and spinning around never ceased to amuse me. I would sometimes spend minutes laughing afterwards as I spun and got dizzy, like I was in some sort of centrifuge.

The coffee finished and I grabbed a mug and poured the drink in, a bit splashing over the edge in my hurry. I slammed half the cup down at once, not caring if it was straight black. I shuddered as caffeine flooded my veins. Smiling, I clutched the hot mug closer to my body and began walking back up to my room when I suddenly tripped over a large white and brown mass on the floor. A few drops of coffee spilled onto my hand as I regained my balance, and I winced at the sudden burning sensation.

Turning to see what had caused my unforeseen stumble, I caught sight of my bulldog huff around the corner, indignant at being stepped on so rudely. "Get back here, Gladston!" I whistled, and the bulldog came charging back to me as if nothing had happened. Sherlock Holmes was my favorite as a kid, and I loved the name Gladston for a dog, so I went with that. I bent and scratched him behind the ears, and the dog lay down again, content with being petted. I slowly stepped away, not wanting the good-natured puppy following me to my room.


When I arrived at my room, I glanced at the screen of my round TV and realized that the screen was black. That's never happened before, but maybe the PS3 is asleep or something. I picked up the controller and wiggled the analog sticks. When nothing happened, I pressed the smooth button in the middle of the controller. Still nothing. I huffed angrily and patted the top of the game console to try and jolt it to life. Still no reaction.

With a growl of irritation, I rubbed at the dust on the TV screen-as if that would do anything. But to my surprise, it did do something. A lot of something. I suddenly felt slightly dizzy, and the dust particles seemed to swirl around me, and everything turned white. . . er. Heat ran down my front as I dropped my coffee mug on myself. Damn. But there were more concerning things to focus on. My TV looked like it was wobbling back and forth through dimensions. That was definitely concerning. Nausea rose up and I swallowed it back down, not wanting to spew all over my immaculately clean white room. It felt as if I were wiggling my way through a wormhole in space or something. Maybe this is what people feel like when they're on drugs. The sensation intensified, and it felt like I was going to explode into a million little author chunks.

Then it was over as quickly as it had started. I blinked and flopped down onto my circular bed, feeling slightly sick. Not even bothering to change out of my coffee-stained clothes, I fell into a long, deep nap.