August 26, 2011 started the same way every day did. I walked to my friend's house, as I did every day, and she was sitting at her desk and staring out the window, as per usual. I opened her door and turned her light on. Her room was cluttered with everything and anything in, as she called it, "an organized mess." She spun her chair around and I saw that she had her clarinet in her hands, mouthpiece between her lips and music thrown over the desk. She brought the black instrument out of her mouth and set it on a dresser, smirking lightly. Her hair was a mess, her glasses askew, and her clothing wrinkled and informal.
"Sarah Horvath, we have rehearsal today. Put your clarinet away and grab your music." I rolled my eyes and smiled at her. Were all geniuses this scatter-brained? She could deduce anything, but couldn't remember when marching band started. She jumped up, running a hand through her brown hair.
"Perhaps I should get dressed."
"Yes, that would be good." She quickly brushed her hair, threw some eyeliner and mascara on her gray eyes, and changed into shorts and a Marching Knights t-shirt. I looked at her desk and was intrigued by a contraption on her desk that looked suspiciously like it was made of the wood from her reeds and tape, not to mention a lot of stuff I couldn't recognize. I laughed quietly when I saw scraps of her dress from formal last year. That dance was a disaster and the night I realized why my friend was often rejected from society and terribly anti-social. Her date had left the dance alone and regretting asking her. I turned to ask her what this thing was when she nearly bounced over to the desk.
"That, dear Jess Wilson, is a new invention of mine."
"I see that, Sarah. What does it do?"
"See, my theory is that when I play a D, F#, C, then A, it will take us back in time."
"Sarah, that's impossible."
"Is it?" She smirked, gray eyes glowing, and grabbed her clarinet.
"No."
"Would you rather use your flute?"
"Don't do it. It won't work."
"Then why are you so scared?" She smirked even more and put the end of the instrument in her mouth. She put the bell near the end of the contraption and played the four notes in the order she stated, her eyes growing wider and more excited after each. When she had finished, she pulled it out of her mouth and grinned eagerly at the thing.
"So, what now?" I asked, skeptical.
"I dunno. Let's watch." I sighed.
"Sarah, nothing's going to happen." I doubt she heard my last comment, as she was focused on the thing on her desk, as it was starting to glow and lift off her desk a bit. My eyes widened as it floated toward us in the most eerie way imaginable. I grabbed the nearest thing to me, her Sherlock Holmes book, and threw it at the thing as hard as I could. It stopped for a second when the book came in contact with it, then flashed green and exploded. The last thing I saw was Sarah's grin and the room spinning before I slammed my eyes shut and grabbed her wrist.