AN: First I want to apologize profusely to the reader of All For You. There will not be an update anytime soon because I cannot seem to write the next chapter. Jack is being excessively stubborn, and Finn is about three times worse, refusing to be written the way I thought she should be.

So, for a late Christmas present, I am going to give you a new story, one that can be written pretty speedily because it is a self-insert, and I know how to write myself. I'll be updating this one regularly enough until I can figure out what I am going to do with Finn...maybe I'll give her some punishment for being so obstinant...

Anyways, this story is really just for fun, and I hardly see it as an amazing piece of literature. Just something to keep y'all amused for a while.

As always, enjoy!

I would have liked to have started this ever so amazing and astounding account of my adventures with some profound statement on human nature, or how I somehow managed to capture the heart of some gorgeous man, or explain how my destiny was thrust upon me and I became a great hero through my trials.
There are three things wrong with those wishes.

One: I think about human nature in my head and it stays there. What I think about you is none of your business. And I tend to not be a very profound person. Generally, what I say is the truth and how I see the matter, or it is heavily sugar-coated to keep the other person from shooting me in the head. Big picture ideas are not my forte.

Two: I do not capture hearts, at least not on purpose. If I have, it was on accident. And if they are gorgeous, they are probably models and therefore have no capability of individual thought, which is usually a very big turn off. So the chances of me being with a gorgeous guy is very slim.

Three: First off, destiny is bogus. You might have the ability to be the next great president, but that does not mean your destiny is to be president. You could just as easily become the friendly electrician next door that is fantastic at understanding the political machine we call government. And as for becoming a hero, well, everyone is a hero in one way or another. Everyone is going to have trials, which automatically makes everyone a hero. There are just some people that are lucky enough to get publicized for it.

So instead of anyone of these stories, you are going to get my version, which is the whole truth and nothing but the truth, according to me. And because I am the one writing this, everything I say is going to be right.

So deal with it.

Now, this amazing and astounding adventure did not start out in any particularly amazing or astounding fashion. In fact, it was rather soggy and frustrating and put me in a generally cranky mood for the first few hours. But let's start at the beginning.

However, we must take a moment for introductions. First, there is me. Evalyn. Last name isn't important. Generally, I don't go by my full name, seeing as it is such a mouthful to say. Evalyn. Three whole syllables. So I am called Lyn. Simple, easy to remember, and only one syllable. Some people do call me Eva, but that's two syllables. And it seems less sophisticated.

There is also no need for me to explain myself to you, nor give you a long and detailed explanation on how I react in situations, or what my characteristics are; I am giving you permission to judge me and my traits as the story progresses.

Second is my best friend, Allison Margaret. Her last name isn't important either. I also regret to inform you that I will neglect to provide you with a long list of traits for her. Let it suffice to say she is loud, friendly, outgoing, and short. That fact is only important because I am tall.

I suppose it is important to provide you with a list of physical traits, however; mostly because I don't want you seeing me as a drop dead gorgeous blonde bombshell, or my friend as the ugly step-sister.

First, I am not blonde, I am the darkest brunette that hair can get. People have often mistaken it for black, which I find extremely amusing because in the sun it looks red. How they get black from red, I'll never know. Second, I am not drop-dead gorgeous. I will agree with pretty, but not cute. Pretty. Like all teenagers I have acne and blackheads, and my face is far from flawless. Oh, and I have freckles. When I was younger, it looked like that splatter painting by Pollock, but most have faded so now I only have a trail of them across my nose and cheeks. I also have dark blue eyes. Thankfully, no one has mistaken these for black. Yet. Third, I am not a bombshell. They are bombs that explode, according to So there.

Meg, as I commonly refer to her, is short. Unlike my hair, hers is a lighter brown that is probably never mistaken for another color. Also unlike me, her skin is tan with no freckles, and she had deep big brown eyes. Now, while my characteristics seem to have some color issues, it is amusing to note that Meg's ethnicity has been mistaken more times than can be counted. Some of my favorites are: Jewish, Hispanic, Native American, Indian, Pakistani, Cuban, Spanish, and Latino. She is in fact Swedish.

But that is enough talk about nothing. From here on out, I will no longer be addressing you, the reader. I will be telling the story, and if I do put a 'you' in there, it is either a mistake, or what I am telling you is important, and will be put in parenthesis.

And so, here is my amazing and astounding adventure.

It was a cloudy day, but without the promise of rain, as most New Mexican storms start out. However, it did bring comfort in the form of a less heated temperature, and a crisp wind that ruffled my hair.

Actually, ruffled is an understatement. It completely demolished it.

My perfectly curled and pampered hair was nothing more than a rat's nest. No comb could possibly get through. Remember what happened to that brush in Princess Diaries? Yeah, that's what I mean. If there is anything I am vain about, it is my hair, and consequently, my mood took a turn for the worse. But not that much.

Of course, track practice had not improved it, though my hair was sufficiently ruined before the 3:30 starting time. In an attempt to keep it decent, I had brought it up into a ponytail.

And so I was at my white truck, Hidalgo (yes, I named my car), with Meg, seated comfortably in the bed of it. We were waiting, actually, I was waiting, for my brother to eventually emerge from the locker-room so we could go home. Meg, the wonderful friend she is, was waiting with me.

Now the place I live is an intellectual, scientific place with the highest PhD concentration in the country, and also happens to be placed in the middle of nowhere (if you are smart and know anything about US history, you know which place I refer to. If you don't, learn. It's important). With this unique atmosphere and general displacement from society, kids here had an odd habit of having true intellectual conversations. I am not exempt from this.

"You've heard of string theory, right?" I asked off-hand.

Meg shrugged. "I think I've heard people talk about it some. Mostly from "The Adams." Why?"

"The Adams" are actually two separate boys, both named Adam, who are both abnormally smart. They enjoy calling themselves "The Molecule". (You must also be familiar with chemistry to understand this joke. If you aren't, shame on you.)

"Oh, I saw a really cool special on it this weekend," I continued excitedly. "You know how there's that whole 'thousands of universes wherever we are' idea? Well, they've been doing research, and some scientists are suggesting that some of the universes are peoples' imagination."

Meg looked at me blankly before frowning. "The different universes are imaginations…that doesn't make sense."

"People thought the world was flat, and lo and behold, it was actually round. It didn't make sense to them, but it's the truth. Think of the possibilities, though!"

"I don't really want people going into my head."

"They didn't really expand on it in the documentary, but I think that instead of imagination, it's stories. Like ones that have been published. Like…C.S. Lewis or something."

My friend grinned. "Well then... that would be pretty sweet."

"Uh, yeah! So many stories would be real. Factual! If only we could get to those other universes…if we wanted to, we could travel to Star Wars!"

"Lord of the Rings!"

We squealed together.

Let me clarify this was not a girly squeal that infers that we were thinking about Orlando Bloom or Harrison Ford. This was an excited squeal that meant we thought it would be awesome to be in those stories. Trust me, there is a difference.

"That would be pretty much amazing," sighed Meg, leaning back casually.

"Of course, that just String Theory according to me. And there really isn't any way to prove anything. This is just all the scientists speculating."

"I don't suppose they thought of a way to arrive in these alternate universes."

"Actually, they did," I continued. "I mean, they didn't figure out a portal or anything like that, but they did say that if such a thing would occur, it would need massive amounts of energy."

Meg rolled her eyes. "Even I could have thought that one up. What type of energy?"

"Enough to rearrange the atoms and transfer them through the gravity and light."

"You lost me."

"Well, the basis of string theory is that gravity is actually the strongest force. They did some weird calculations to figure that one out, but anyways, they determined that because it is so weak here, it must be spread out among other universes. And so some scientists thought it might be the same for light. Whatever the case, the energy needs to be strong enough to move the atoms."

"Doesn't the energy stay in its own universe though?"

"Light is energy. So, theoretically, it can move between. According to the scientists."

Meg laughed. "According to the scientists. And we see how far that usually goes. Look at this place. We may have one of the best schools in the state, but we can't have a decent restaurant that stays open past eight at night. And we can't manage to get a big box store here either, even though we have enough people to support one. All because the scientists can't freakin' agree on anything but science."

We both laughed at this sad truth. Our town had nothing in the way of activities, night or otherwise. The best thing to happen all year was the Homecoming Parade. It was just that pathetic.

Meg watched the oncoming storm with interest. Now, unlike about ten minutes ago, it appeared that there just might be rain. And lots of it.

Yay for New Mexico weather. Where you can have a snow storm in April and seventy five degree weather in the middle of January. It's just that cool.

"You think lightening would be energetic enough?"

I rolled my eyes. "Plenty of people have been struck by lightening, and none have disappeared."

"What if like five different bolts were to hit at once?"

"You would be a crisp."

"Ten?"

"I still think you'd be fried."

"Twenty?"

"The chances of that ever happening are…well, pretty much miniscule."

Meg huffed indignantly. "You can be so technical, Lyn. These nerds are rubbing off on us."

I laughed. "What can I say. Honestly, I don't think it's lightening at all. Maybe some new obscure form of energy. And I think it would probably kill us."

"What if we were protected by something? Like a time-machine?"

"You just want to be in LOTR."

She shrugged, but smiled widely. "What can I say. Hey look, your brother emerges."

"Finally," I grumbled, leaping smoothly from the bed and jumping into the car. "Get on in, Meg, I'll drive you to your car."

"Which is only across the over-pass. But fine, I don't feel like walking right now, not after all the sprints coach made us do today. Ugg…three sets of three two-hundreds. I honestly think that's the worst one all year."

"No, five-four-three-two-one is. 100 sprints."

Meg laughed. "Whatever. Coach just wants to make us miserable."

"I agree."

We sat in the truck, watching impatiently as my brother slowly walked toward it, stopping to talk to his friends for a moment. "What is he doing?" I growled. "I am here and waiting to go home. And I happen to have homework."

"Try honking."

I did as suggested, and he looked up, only to make a face and keep talking.

"My word! Did you see that?" I gasped, pointing toward him madly.

"Calm down, Lyn," giggled Meg. "We could just drive away on him and--what the!"

I glanced out her window in time to see a dazzling flash of light that enveloped the car, knocking me backwards and making my skin tingle and itch uncontrollably. Then suddenly, it seemed that I, in fact, had no skin, that I was simply a thought or a memory…it wasn't painful, but vague, and it felt as if time had no power in the place I was. All at once I was me again, body and all. For a split second I could see green and blue, both of which were replaced by the black of unconsciousness.