DISCLAIMER! There will be multiple references to things that are not mine. I. do. not. own. them. Whether or not these people are/were real is a completely different matter. In any case, it wouldn't be legal for me to own them then either. Only the narrator is mine—or, is me…I'm not sure which yet. Like I said in the description-- either the space-time continuum is screwy right now, or someone is playing a really mean practical joke on me.
Anyway, please review! I want to know if I should keep trying to translate this out of French for all of you! (It's so hard! Expect sporadic uploads.)
I hope to God that you actually find this and read this before you become me. I am serious. It's 1878, and I am in Paris, France. Don't ask me how I can write this in French. You know perfectly well I don't speak a word of it. Remember the marks you got in high school Spanish? Yeah, me too. I assure you that I didn't know any French whatsoever before I fell in the lake. But I'm getting ahead of myself, as usual. Look, I'm perfectly aware that this is probably going to end up on fanfiction, so you might as well do it. I doubt anyone would believe it anyway. Heck, I barely do, and I'm LIVING IT! So, I guess I better start at the beginning.
Once upon a time (because all good stories begin with once upon a time)—NO! wait, wrong story. This one isn't about cats…Love you, Gramma! :) (yes, there was a smiley face on the manuscript. And this is only the beginning of the spookiness that I discovered.)
Ok, so I was sitting in front of my laptop at my desk. It was late at night—and I mean like three in the morning late—and I was reading Phantom fanfics. It is not a good idea, ever, to stay up till three in the morning, so please don't do it. So, I was in my dorm reading, and I was really tired from the staying up this late the past two nights from..papers…that I had been..putting off..(cough, cough). Sound familiar? Yeah, I still haven't learned. I was finally relaxing, but super tired. So tired, in fact, that I just fell asleep at my desk.
I dreamed that I was falling. Not uncommon for me, I hate falling, so that is what my nightmares consist of—sometimes. I got that usual rush where my stomach drops out and my heart lodges in my throat. I didn't think anything of it. It was a dream. At least, I didn't think anything of it until I hit the freezing cold water. I inhaled sharply at the sudden cold—breathing in lots of water at the same time. I struggled to the surface and treaded water, coughing violently to get the water out and actually breathe. When I was finally able to breathe again, I looked around, shivering.
"F-f-fu-ck-k-k-ing c-c-col-d," I chattered. All I could see was that I was in a cave, underground (duh), and there's this person running to the lake from a house that was, for some reason, underground. Well, he jumped in and started swimming towards me. I started swimming towards him because I wanted to get out of this freezing water and he's by a shore. We met more or less in the middle, and he proceeded to drag me to shore and toss me roughly onto the bank. I would have objected to this behavior, but I was once more coughing up water that I had inhaled while he was dragging me.
"Who are you, and what are you doing down here, girl?" he hissed at me.
"Jessica," I coughed. I pulled my dripping hair out of my face and started wringing out the pounds of water it had soaked up. "And I have no idea." My teeth started chattering and my body shivering from the cold air. I tossed my hair behind me and started wringing out my T-shirt.
"You're lying," he hissed, grabbing my arm with one bony hand and pulling me up to my feet. "Why are you here?!"
"I don't know!" I chattered, glaring at him—or rather, his black silk mask. I could see pin-pricks of light where his eyes were. "I was in my room, sleeping, and then I fell into the fucking lake! It's three a.m. I'm tired, frozen, dripping wet, and I've got class in six and a half hours. Now, if you would kindly tell me where the hell I am, I can go back to bed and maybe get some sleep before class." And if only to make my point, my body decided it needed to yawn just then.
He seemed surprised by my outburst. I was too, but then again, I was also sleep deprived. He seemed to consider what I was wearing—jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers. "You're under the Paris Opera House. Now get out." He practically threw my arm back at me and stormed back towards the house.
My brain must have been frozen as well as sleep deprived. I could almost hear the gears groaning under the effort of trying to think. "Paris...Opera... Paris…Like, France?! Th-that's not possible! I'm in the middle of the mountains in North Carolina!" He didn't answer. "How the hell am I supposed to get across an ocean?" Again, no answer. My mind was still slowly clicking, though, and I finally picked up on what should have been obvious from my countless hours of reading fanfics. "Erik!"
He froze.