Okay I've had this idea in my head for a while, but didn't have the time to write it down.

Disclaimer: The main character and a few others belong to me, all others belong to Will Shakespeare

(New York Apartment-21st Century)

I came back from the Halloween party completely drained. I guess I had too much candy or something, and this is the hangover of the sugar rush my friends were teasing me about in the Jaguar. I didn't mind though; it was better than what they were teasing me for on the way there:

It was like this, my friends were dressed in the most whorish costumes ever; Abby was dressed as the devil, while her BFF was dressed as an angel. Both of which had NOTHING covering their stomachs. Bonnie was dressed as a tiger: Again, nothing covering the stomach, and a skirt that only reached mid-thigh. Me, I went as a chambermaid- one you would see back in the middle Ages. The only skin showing was my chest and me shoulders. Why? I've been feeling a little homesick lately. Here's something no one knows about me; I wasn't born in the 1990's like I'd claimed so many times. My real birth year is 1288.

Yes, tis the truth, so what am I doing in the 21st century at only fifteen years old? It's a long story, but I'll try to explain it the best way I can. My family and I had a quant little place in Verona, Italy. To the people, we were known as the Gagliardis. We had a reputation of being one of the kindest people in the city, and everyone knew we could do magic, but no one accused us of witchcraft, because we were good people. In fact, because we could do magic, we often helped people.

There were these two families, the Montagues and Capulets, who fought each other constantly for reasons nobody knew. Everyone in the city either sided with the two, but my family refused to be a part of the mess, and became neutral, though I heard my dad fighting along side the Montagues once.

I walked into my bedroom, and took out the trunk that had taken residence under my bed for the three years I had lived in New York. In it, were my mom's veil she wore the day she got married, and the books; journals my dad kept, where he wrote the prayers he would recite in church and at the dinner table each night. The last I saw them was the night I first traveled through time: There was a brawl between the families. The Capulets came to our house, my parents knew, and had my twin sister and I hide in the house in separate places. We were in the same room, I was under the bed, and she was in the bureau. One by one, we could hear our family being slaughtered by their sword, I looked over and saw the bureau shaking, I tried to get her to relax, but I knew she couldn't hear me. Someone barged into the room, a body, probably around six or seven: our age. He went for the bureau and grabbed her, dragging her out of the room, but I didn't hear the sword kill her. After they had left, I crawled around the house and I saw my dad lying in a pool of blood, but I could see he was still breathing.

"Get away from here." He choked.

"Where?" I cried.

"Think of somewhere else. The stories I told you about. Think."

I did, and I was no longer in the house, but that's a story for another day.

I picked up the necklace that had belonged to me sister: The chain was sterling silver, the stone was peridot carved to resemble a J held by two hands on the sides. Mine was Identical, though mine was a B. She told me to hang, though she wouldn't tell me why. I trusted her though, and it hurt like hell that I didn't get to say goodbye. I've been thinking about going back, but I've never tried going back in time. But I've got to sooner or later.

I stripped off my costume, and replaced it with a pair of sweat pants and a corset top, put on some running shoes. Finally, I put on a fourteenth century gown that covered my shoes and an old-fashioned mask. Holding her necklace in my hand, I stood in the middle of the room, closed my eyes, and thought hard as I could. I opened my eyes to find myself in the middle of a cobblestone street-the market place; everyone dressed in the old-style clothing.

I had done it.

(Verona, Italy-14th Century)

I walked swiftly yet and casually as I could through the crowd. Whatever casual was nowadays. I observed the surrounding houses, trying to find my old house. I knew wasn't too far of a walk from the market. My stomach knotted as I thought about stepping through those doors. What would I find? Would the corpses be on the floor? Will there be maggots and dust crawling up the wall? The thoughts stopped me in my tracks: Was I ready to do this? Could I handle it?

You've witness over millions of people lose their lives for no real reasons. You had to cremate them, smell the scent of burning flesh. How should this be any worse?

"Pardon me Madam?" A young male's voice said from behind me.

I turned and was met a boy around fifteen or fourteen, either way he was definitely over thirteen. And he strikingly handsome, like his looks hit me, like a bolt of lightning. I knew though from past experience, to never base a relationship on looks alone.

"Yes Sir?" I said nonchalantly

"Thou look'st frightened, and prior you look'st like you were searching for something."

I contemplated telling him what I could: Lie or tell as much of the truth as I could. I opted for the latter. "I came in search of my sister, whom I was given word that she is in Verona. I was looking for my old house a short moment ago."

"By thyself?" He said, shocked.

"My family is lying in their graves, though like I said, I hear my sister is alive in this city."

"I pray thee forgiveness, shall I be boorish to ask if thou would'st stay in my house?"

"'Tis not boorish, I don't want to be a burden."

"Nay." He laughed. "Tis no trouble, my family would'st love thee."

I smiled. "Then I shall stay."

"Let me bring you to my house." He grabbed my hand and dragged me along the streets.

"What is thy name good sir?" I asked.

"Romeo of the Montague house." He said. "Thine?"

"For now, just call me Bridget."

I'm not gonna try writing in Shakespeare writing because it was awful, so I'm only gonna us a few words.

Romeo still falls for Juliet, I'm just playing with the plot.

Review please

Gagliardi means "Strong" Just thought you might want to know that.