Monday September 25, 2012

10:15 A:M

It was an average day at school, same classes, same idiots to talk to, and third period seemed to drag on to the point where you could feel each minute pass by. Each of the fifty-five minutes of my life wasted I wasted in that class. Like I said before, it was a normal day.

I finished my work, and now was reading the John Lennon biography I'd been dying to get my hands on all day, when a high pitched voice shattered my tranquility.

" Who's John Lennon?" Cyndi, god I hate her. At every school you could find a girl like her. The one with the big group of "friends" that follow her around like lost puppies, trying to be exactly like her, a pretty face, with no sense of individuality, or intelligence whatsoever. I sighed, and looked up from my book, "You know who The Beatles are right?"

"Yeah, aren't they that band from the 50s?" She let out a snobby laugh. It was all I could do to not go apeshit, on her. "Yeah," I gritted my teeth, "60s actually, John Lennon started it, he's the rhythm guitarist." I stated, returning back to my book. "Why do you listen to them? they're so old!" She exclaimed loudly.

My head snapped up from my reading, and met her overly eyelinerd gaze.

"Excuse me?" I snapped. "They only have like two good songs, and they're so ugly too!" Now I was pissed. "Of course, why would a girl listen to anything different then you do?" I fumed, "And let me guess who like, One Direction right?" "Yeah! They're so sexy, and they have great voices too!" Cyndi giggled stupidly.

"Well, last time I checked it doesn't take five guys to sing one song, and yeah they're a master of auto-tune, and inserting in instruments, instead of playing their own, they will be a memorable five minute fad" I finished bitterly. She opened her mouth to say something, but it just hung in defeat. "Careful now, don't want to catch flies." I gave her a smug smile. "Stupid bitch." I mumbled, looking back down at my book. "Kassandra Peterson, what did you just say?!" Mrs. Swanson yelled.

Monday September 25, 1963

9:20 A.M

Paul's POV

Life was getting back to normal, now that our tour was over. America was fun, but it felt nice to be getting back to the day to day life. John on the other hand was dreading it. He loves Cynthia and Julian and all, but domestic life is just hard to adjust to, after being with a different bird every night. He's been coming over to the Asher's a lot since we've been home, saying we've got to work on the new album, but we never end up working on our songs, mostly just watching the telly, and eating crisps.

Last night John spent the night here, after he and I got piss drunk, on what we could find in the liquor cabinet. My head was throbbing, and my stomach burned. Hangovers are just lovely. I scratched my head, what was I going to do today? Jane was working in Yorkshire all this week, so I was most likely going to spend the day with John, while he procrastinated on going home.

I got off the couch, and stumbled past the kitchen, to the lou. I reached for the doorknob, but stopped dead in my tracks. The normally chestnut brown door, was now painted lilac. When the hell did that happen? I could've sworn just last night it was brown. I looked around for Mr. and Mrs. Asher, but found they left a note saying they wouldn't be back until tonight.

I walked back into the living room, where John still slept on the bright red loveseat. "John wakeup." I shook his shoulder. "Fuck off McCartney." He muttered. "No get up, I've got something really strange to show you." I said. " I've seen your face plenty of times already Paul." He chided. "John I'm serious, it's the bathroom door." Wow that sounded better in my head. "Why the hell would I want to see a bathroom door?" John stated. "I don't know, It's purple though, kind of pretty." "Well then, by all means, show it to me Mr. McCartney." John bantered in his perfected posh accent. We trudged our way to the bathroom, and stopped in front of the door.

"I guess you weren't kidding then. When the fuck did this happen?" He wondered out loud. " Well if I knew I wouldn't be asking you would I? Are you going to open it?" I asked. "What exactly are you expecting to find?" John smiled. "Maybe they redecorated it." I reasoned. "When? I'm sure The Ashers secretly late night decorate." John joked "Let's just open it." John looked to me for approval. I shrugged, and turned the knob in one quick motion.

It was pitch black, almost like a dark hole. "The fuck?" John mumbled. I stepped in the bathroom. "Can you see me?" I called. "No, where the fuck are you? Can you feel anything in there?" John yelled. I moved around a bit. "I can't feel anything." I said reaching around. "Alright, comeback out then." He said. I started walking forward, for a couple minutes, but I couldn't find the exit. "John?" I shouted. "Yeah?" He replied. "I think I'm lost." "Lost? How the hell could you be lost, you're in a bathroom!" John taunted. " I don't know, but I can't find my way out."I said, trying not to let my panic show. "Alright, hold on for a few minutes."

John's P.O.V

"Hello?"

"Hi George, it's me."

" Oh hi John, what's going on?"

" Well, can you pick up Ringo and come over to Paul's? The bathroom is acting really odd."

" Oh ok, see you in ten."

"Bye."