My alarm was particularly loud today.

I moved over to turn off my phone when my arm collided into something plastic. Ugh. This again.

This alarm sounds kind of weird.

I sat up. The bedside table was wrong, and perched on it was a thick plastic alarm clock. What the hell?

I hit the thing and looked around the room. Shit.

I was in a... random apartment somewhere. It seemed like it was just me living here. There was the double bed I was sleeping on, a table, a minifridge and a little kitchen room that it lead to. Where am I?

I suddenly noticed that I was capable of seeing the rest of the room, which surprised me much more. I looked over to the table on my right and lo and behold, there were glasses. However, they looked nothing like my own. Following the logic, I look down at myself and gawp.

... Yep. Still my body.

Ahaha... Fuck, I had genuinely been expecting to had been someone else. I've been reading too many stories. I guess someone mistook me for the person who has the apartment or I was drunk or something?

I roll out of the bed and make my way to the kitchen when a realisation strikes me.

I'm a teenager again, aren't I?

I find a little bathroom and look at myself in the mirror for long enough to see myself say, "Shit." Then I immediately grin, because who gets a second chance to be a teenager?

Right. This is going to be a glorious day. Just as long as I can figure out where the hell I am.

Man, how am I going to figure out what day it is if I haven't got a mobile phone? Sundial?

.

.

"Fucking, finally," I panted.

After half an hour I finally dredged up my wallet from a heap of clothes that I'd never worn beside the bed. The ID was fake, but it had my new name - Chris Allen - and my school... Winslow High. That sounds somewhat familiar?

Fuck... If this is Worm I am going to chew my own arms off.

I scour the room but there's no other information to back up the statement. I'm going to go on a limb and assume that I'm not being pranked, and that some Random Omniscient Being just decided to dump me here. Why would I even guess that I was a teenager like that?

Oh god. I have a feeling from now on I'm going to go insane thinking that "thinkers" are anticipating exactly what I will do.

Well you aren't ruining my day. Fuck it, if I'm now trapped in - what is pretty much a privacy-invading dystopia if you've 'contracted' superpowers - then fine. I'll do... Whatever I do. At least thank Christ I got up early today. Like I want to gain peoples attention in Winslow. Man, should I even bother attending?

No, it's probably best if I go. But I don't give two shits about Taylor. Actually - before I test anything else - I need to see if I have a power. There is no chance in hell that I am going to be railroaded if I have a choice here.

I closed my eyes and squeezed my concentration. I pushed my brain, imploring a deeper connection.

I opened my eyes and examined my body. Nothing.

I tried again... Pushing harder into my cerebral cortex, imploring some higher connection to the alien mothership. Ironically true.

A flicker.

Fuck yes!

I then promptly fell over. Oww, my brain. I shouldn't have done that standing. Well, for what it was, that was basically a bust. But I'm pretty sure that something is there, so at least I don't think that I'm up shit creek without a paddle.

... Holy shit. I forgotten about the Nazis. This is going to be hell.

No. I refuse, or do not want to play part of a stereotypical game. And that's the part that you get slaughtered for in a world where the worst thing always happens.

Fine, whatever. I'm going to go to Winslow as a light brown, tanned European - but not black - guy. Fuck my life.

.

.

The Chris Allen name was a joke, wasn't it?

So I found the date - it's currently the 1st of January, 2011. In alternate dimension hell. On the plus side, it has no Facebook, and people are still not all using phones. Because duh, social media isn't a thing, thanks to all the technological disasters.

I found the school by asking a couple of people for directions, and made my way inside. To be fair, it's not as shit as it's usually described. But hell, I'd thought a lot in the past that American high schools just didn't sound fun. From media it seems like they're rife with bullying and such. And this one has sociopathic gang members.

Though it's probably because I came in super early. That's one thing that I'm likely going to do every day, simply because I'm probably more likely to avoid gang stuff if I get there early and I leave early. This is just assuming the worst though. Worst comes to worst I can not come back, or look for one of the other schools. What were they - ah, Immaculata High (if I ever found money) and Arcadia, both of which had convenient leaflets on my table.

Shit, actually. This is kind of a do-or-die for whether I want to be registered onto Winslow - they'd probably check on me if I don't come back.

I sat down in one of the chairs outside of the waiting room, and sank my chin in my palm. Well, for one thing, I wouldn't be interfering with canon. On the other hand, I wouldn't have the connections to survive unless I happened to meet Panacea or something. And Brockton Bay is going to shit. I would move somewhere else... But I've read self inserts. These guys get targeted to hell and back. At least I know Brockton Bay - corruption and all. That and all the sob stories of all the superpowered residents, which self inserts such as myself use to ruthless degrees.

Hrm. Well, otherwise I'm just going to be trapped in my room too paranoid to do stuff. I concede, though I'll fill my registration in with as much fake information as possible. Hopefully Winslow - of all fictional horrible schools - won't bother checking to see my home address. I'll keep the name Chris Allen - assuming that the paperwork that I'm registered under so far is that shoddy that the ROB just allowed me to change my name on a dime.

The seagul outside the window made a long, annoying guttural noise. I'm going to go mad thinking these things are intentional, nevermind.

Right. I stood up. Time to head to this office. But I swear, if this is like one of those stupid arbitrary self inserts where painful encounters keep happening, I'm either moving away or committing death-by-Lung before someone like Cauldron can come grab me.

Famous last words.

She nodded towards me as I shook her hand, before heading off to sit on her chair.

"Hi, Principal Blackwell." I'm with the PRT. "I'm Chris Allen."

"Hello. Are you familiar with all of the lessons that you have to take?" She asked. I noticed she had a little acne on her cheeks.

"No... If you could show me where I could find a timetable, that would be great."

"Sure. I'll print one off," she replied, moving to her computer.

Dear ROB: Please just turn off all the conflict in the world so I can have fun please?

"Damn, we're out of ink."

Guh.

I made my way over to maths class - Math - now that I'm in America.

The teacher was talking to the class over some basic quadratics.

I walked right back away and down the hall.

Fuck! I just realised - Greg Veder. This isn't just any old world - this world you can't just walk in and say, 'uhhh.. uhhh... excuse me', because it will actually kick the shit out of you. I hope I'm not just being overly paranoid, but why would someone like Greg Veder get beat up like that? Hyper boosted bullying, with gang warfare power plays even on the smaller scale. I'd rather wait for the next class.

Fortunately, computer lab had some space before I came in. I made my greetings and took up a seat. I was 90% sure this was the right class - heck, it was even supposed to have Gladys Knott, whenever the lesson started.

Some idle browsing and the lesson had finally come around. I was given one or two glances, but it looks like I hadn't really been recognised as a potential newcomer. As a side, wow - I hadn't even realised how young I am. 15 year olds are still tiny.

Good, but they are going to get more uneasy if I don't introduce myself here. I approached Ms Knott, "Miss. Can I introduce myself to the class?"

She smiled encouragingly, "Yeah, go ahead."

Good. I stood up in front of the projector space. Half of the class deigned to look at me, most of them preoccupied with their computers. Ideal, hopefully.

"Hi everyone. I'm Chris Allen. I'm new, and uhh yeah, I'm now part of your class." I quickly tacked on, "No need to cheer or anything." I stood for a solid couple more seconds before walking back to my seat and sitting down.

Ms Knott clapped, and a couple people gave it token applause. I had a couple looks sent my way as I sat back down, but nothing too ridiculous so far. Gladys took the register.

"Yo, I'm Francis," spoke a guy sat beside me on my left. He looked fairly normal. "Welcome to Winslow."

I shook his hand. "Nice to meet you. You already know my name."

"-Allen, Chris-," called Ms Knott.

"-Here!" I called back out.

I turned back to the guy. I was at a loss for anything more important to say. I'd kind of already done school. "What kind of class is this?"

"Oh, Ms Knott usually sets us programming stuff but most people just tend to browse during the lesson."

"Oh cool. Know any good games websites?"

"-Hebert, Taylor-"

"-Here!" spoke a girl's voice.

I looked up and spotted Taylor on the opposite side. Yeah, she was pretty much the Americanised version of what I was expecting, although a lot smaller. Smaller-bigger? I'm also younger than I was. Anyway, she didn't look that thin at all. Crazy how much words must've been exaggerated about her.

I didn't want to be caught looking at her for too long, but in what I quickly gathered - dark hair, slightly tense looking posture - too quick movements, and a kind of bookish aesthetic. We were both wearing those early 2000s thin rim plastic-y glasses that nobody likes. Fun.

Anyway - 'Hee bert'. At least now I know. I guess 'A bear' is the French way of saying it.

Francis looked at me and I turned back away from Taylor. "Randomly thought I'd heard something."

..

Taylor. Give me a damn way to communicate with you.

I glared at the paper in front of me. Taylor was on my left side, and we had one person desks so it would still raise suspicion - and more bullying - if I associated with her. Fucking sigh. You're serious? One person desks?

I don't particularly want to involve myself, but if it were me, I'd like to at least be informed of the shit to stay atop of. The problem is A. she hasn't triggered, B. she's isolationist and C. I have no plausible reason to start a conversation with her. One person desks.

Turns out that today was an optional school day, but many students were made to come due to poor grades anyway.

I quickly solved the Physics problem - protip: copy the workbook - and rested my head on my folded arms. Nobody particularly cared because it was a holiday technically anyway.

I focused on the source of my power. I felt it in the general area of where I thought my frontal cortex is.

I wanted to trace the connection I had to the power. But after feeling the it start to give way, I decided to go with it.

A floating surface in an small computer lab. Visible from 360 degrees. A fragment of an eye with pupil, floating in the air. Out of the view of a student idly browsing.

I quickly shut my power back off and jerked myself to sitting position. That was really impulsive. Actually, screw it - why not.

The pupil reforms into the anterior chamber and sclera. Dust was colliding with the eye fragment. It was solid. The eye ever so slowly attempts to make shape.

The eye sways to the side. A student notices.

"AH!" shouted a teenager. I immediately shut my power off and twitched.

I tried to sneakily glance around. Nobody noticed, and Sophia wasn't in my class, thankfully. I would be a hair bit more paranoid if she was. As it stands it's some stupid kid thinking they saw a reflective blue thing in the air, which disappeared before anyone saw it. Good luck to that guy.

I relax into my seat. That was actually a decent prank. I had a bit of a headache, but it wasn't as ridiculous as this morning.

And I can make projections? That's an odd choice of power.

What if I had gotten master powers?

Eh... I would've coped. I would've found the best way to keep going. The school may have actually worked out for a short time. I look over to Taylor, who is blissfully ignorant of her surroundings, tunnel visioned on her work. Whatever, I'll know when she triggers. For now there's not a lot I can do.

Simple plan - when she has insects, write something that her insects can see. Easy. Knowing how paranoid she is, she'd probably be tracking me - unless she doesn't think that I'm suspicious. Though odds are she'll have enough bugs that she'd have tagged everyone at school.

I put my chin in both of my palms. What I would do to end this lesson early...

'Fuck Contessa, fuck Contessa, fuck Contessa.' - Nothing.

Well, maybe I could pull the wool over Taylor's eyes. I mean, a projection doesn't require any physical cue. I doubt that I have any reason to though. I'm not going to ally myself with Taylor per se, but it might not be bad. Actually - no. It will most certainly be bad being linked with her. Alexandria killing me to get to her probably, haha. The best I can do is inform her and be a neutral party.

I am not a hero... Though I really need to experiment with my powers to figure out what I'm going to be doing. I decide to diligently make some careless mistakes in my work.

Taylor would probably notice that. Fuck thinkers.

Maybe I should amuse myself by haunting the computer lab.

A/N: I delayed the locker by a day so that I could lazily copy Wrecked by Magite, and get to have the protagonist mucking around in class instead.

So - there was a sudden optional educational half-day before school officially began! That would make sense, since most people would be recovering from their New Years festivities. I'll pretend Sophia manually had to move the contents of the locker by hand and clean it the night before, scowling the whole time haha.