I looked up at the sky. Clouds. Yep. It's going to rain. That would pretty much sum up my day. I sigh as I make my way down my street. What possessed me to become an art major is beyond me. Everyone said it would be fun; that I would go far with my artistic ability. Now, covered in paint, oil, and other liquid I would rather not think about, Im really wishing I went into law school. In the elite art school, my teachers are very demanding. Always saying, "Do this." or "Why isn't this done on time?"

I reach my house and look up at it. Wrought iron fence with perfectly cut grass. The same as the next house. And the next one. I sigh as I climb the stairs and unlock the bright red door. As I go to shut it, I glance across the street. Yep. There is crazy old man Smythe. "Go inside Mr. Smythe," I yell to him. He glances up from his chair in the yard and grinned a crazy grin. "No, I think it's gonna rain. The gods are giving us a gift!" he yells back with a crazy glint in his eye. I shut the door and shake my head, "crazy old man," I mutter as I walk to the kitchen.

I throw my bag on the table and grab a bottle of water. I shuffle through the mail on the counter; probably brought in by my gregarious roommate. He was a sweet one, even with his illicit hobbies. I pause and glance at his door down the hall before tilting my head and listening for any sound. After a few moments of silence, I shake my head and sigh. He must be out with his freaky friends again. One day that boy will learn. I once again shake my head before continuing through the pile of mail. His. His. His. His. I throw the mail back on the counter and hear one plop to the laminate floor. I reach down and pick it up. I look in disgust at the dirt that coats it before dusting it off. I glance at the cheap black and white checkered "tiles" before wrinkling my nose. I'll have to clean up later then. Fine, it will just be the icing on the cake for this stupid day.

I look back to the envelope and run my hand over the name written intricately on the front. It was addressed to me. The paper was thicker than most and looked cool; like someone aged it on purpose. "Huh. Didn't see you when I was going through the mail." I pause in my inspection before smiling slightly. I'm talking to paper now. Soon I'm going to be just like crazy old man Smythe who talks to his grass about the weather. My eyes widen at that. No, that would be the end of my life right there. I cross my fingers and make a pledge not to turn out that crazy. A little bit crazy is okay. Not that flavor of crazy though. I finger the envelope; it drawing my attention back like a magical force. "Ha! Magical force. Now your imagination is getting the better of you Evie. Where was the imagination this afternoon when the sculpture was due?" I mutter. I open the envelope and turn it around to check who it was from. No return address. I shrug and open it the rest of the way. I pull the letter out to read. It was also made of thicker material. Someone really spent a lot of time on this. And they were very creative. On the top in flourished handwriting read, "DO NOT CONTINUE PAST THIS POINT IF YOU DO NOT WANT ADVENTURE." Well, it wasn't exactly explicit information but it got my attention. What kind of adventure? Who decides what adventure is? Why did I receive this? And what could a letter do to provide any sort of adventure? Now I am curious as to what is inside of the rest. Mother always said I was too curious for my own good. Of course what she meant was that I was too curious for her and the gossiping women of her little social club. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. I'm glad I got out of there early. Another year of appeasing women who wear pink frilly dresses, and I would have died. I glance back at the message scrawled across the top of the letter. A feeling of rebellion entered me. My aunt always said the rebellion was from my father's side. "You're as stubborn as your father was. It's the Irish in ye!," Auntie Betsy used to say. I read the message again. You know what? I do want an adventure! I nod my head as if that settled it. I open the letter excitedly and glitter shoots out on to me. I jump in surprise and drop the letter to the floor. My good and rebellious mood is instantly gone. Anger quickly replaces it. I look at the glitter all over the floor, counter, and mail. My hands close into fists and I shake in anger as I look at the shiny little pieces on my clothes, sticking to the various liquids. "ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?! First my erratic teacher wants me to draw impossible things in an unbelievably short amount of time and now I have to deal with this!," I shriek; my voice going up several octaves. My arms and hands are flailing around and I feel my face become red with fury. "It is abso… absolutely.. ridicu.. lous..." I stumble as the world starts to spin. I throw my arms out to keep from falling and knock the open water bottle off of the counter. It seems to be falling in slow motion. Or that could just be me falling with it. The water bottle crashes to the floor and water splashes out. The last thing I see is the water leaking towards me through trails of glitter. Then everything goes black.