Hey, what's up? I'm home from school sick and I'm mad bored. Nothing to do but eat butterless toast, listen to the Ramones, and write pointless things. Like fanfiction. Fanfiction being the pointless thing, that is...oh well, just enjoy my story! And know that as I began it I had no idea in my mind of how it would go...

Disclaimer: I own myself, my clothes, and my oboe, but I don't own anything like LotR or anything I might mention in this story besides myself, my clothes, and my oboe.

Chapter One

The Arrival (crazy weirdos in my bedroom!)

I walk home from oboe practice wishing desperately I had a raincoat. My clothes are soaked, and my hair hangs down limply like...well, what's something that hangs down limply? Seaweed in a waterfall? Okay, this analogy isn't working too well. Let me start over again. And let's put this in the past tense, shall we?

I walked home from oboe practice without so much as a raincoat or an umbrella. I was soaked to the bone, my clothes clinging to my skin as I leaned over my oboe case to keep it dry. If dry is possible on those kinds of days. Those kinds of days when your mother forgets that you're not seventeen yet, and therefore don't own a car of your own. I decided I wanted to get home quicker, so I started to run. I slipped in a puddle and fell hard on my rear end.

"Oh, sh-" I began, but caught myself. I saw some little kid playing outside in the rain, and decided it would be best if I kept my language G rated. "-oot!" I finished.

I stood up. If I hadn't been soaked previously, I was then. I stomped all the way back to my house. I marched forward and grabbed the door handle and pushed as I steped forward. Whack! My nose went right into the wood. "Oh, sh-" I said again, this time not caring to keep the ending G rated.

After taking the key out from under some statue of a Roman dude and unlocking the door, I immediately ran upstairs to change my clothes. Then I came downstairs. I intended to do my homework, since it was Saturday afternoon and I like having my Sundays free.

I lay down on the couch, opened up my pre-calc book, and fell fast asleep. Yeah, I'll make a great valedictorian, won't I?

When I opened my eyes, something was a little weird. I couldn't tell what it was at first, but I knew something was wrong. I stood up and said, "Hello?"

No response. I could've sword that I'd heard something. Hopefully not some loony psychokiller who kills sixteen-year-old girls named Marina.

Something creaks. He/she/it's upstairs. I pick up my little sister's whiffle ball bat and walk upstairs, as if I'm armed or something. Might as well defend myself with an oboe. Actually, that might work better. The sound I produce from it is hideous enough to kill Goliath. Or a cave troll. Or something of great height and girth and low IQ.

I open the door to my mom's room. No one that I can see. I move on to Emmy's room. No one. The bathroom. No one. My room...

I pushed open the door and let out a bloodcurdling screech.

"Do not be alarmed!" said an old man with a gray beard.

"Don't...don't be alarmed?" I gasped. "There are...there are nine weirdos in my bedroom, and you say to not be alarmed? Where do you think you're from? Amish country?" I took a closer look. Oh, hang on, they looked familiar. "Wait...are you those creepy actor wannabes that dress up like the characters and attack sixteen-year-old girls?"

"We have no intention of attacking you," a man said. Well, they were all men. The man with a sword. Oh, wait, they all had swords. The man with the BIG sword, and- hang on! Swords?

"You're carrying weapons!" I manage to croak.

I look at all of them. The short man with a short sword and a golden thing on a necklace says, "Gandalf, what is this place?"

"Gandalf?" I whisper, looking at the tall man with the gray robes. And with that I passed out on the floor.

Author's note: So? How do you like it? Should I continue writing this, or not? Yeah, I know, slow start. But I was bored and I was also eating butterless toast, which dampens my spirits slightly. So, uhh, if you like it, review...or something...or review if you don't like it, I seriously don't care...or don't review at all if you don't want to!