Well,well well. Hello there! Have my superior summary skills attracted you? Anyway, trash aside, welcome and since i am not a person of many words (haha) here you go:

In retrospective this was all the supermarkets fault. Maybe even her mothers. Or gods.

It was most certainly not hers, because she did not deserve this, even as karmic retribution this was just ridiculous. She might not be the greatest person on earth, maybe a little too lazy and lacking ambitions, except her long held dream to become a reclusive hermit with a horde of cats, which would eat her corpse as soon as she died but so far she had managed to avoid all the major taboos: she never killed anyone, had never stolen anything (alright, nothing too bad, there was this first slice of cheesecake, but hey, it was her birthday cake, so there had to be a little leeway) and always washed her hands after going to the toilet (because gross).

So, yeah, being stranded in a world of people who could lift buildings with one hand and probably kill her with a sneeze? Not cool.

But let's rewind for a bit.

The house of the Heroldt family was in uproar, because there was no bread.

This in itself was a medium sized catastrophe, but seeing as it was a holiday and the family would be gathering, it upgraded to a full-alarm-high-priority situation. Because there was no bread and while the Heroldts were semi devoted Christians, their true deity was bread.

Of course, this situation could just not stand.

So the head of the house decided to do the unthinkable: visit the store on a holiday. They all knew better than this, but there was no bread and no bread meant an uproar among the family, fighting might be involved. So the store it was then. Deciding that she would not face the insanity of last minute buyers alone, Christine Heroldt decided to bring her middle daughter along, who most certainly had not been outside for the better of a week.

Said middle daughter begged to differ, she had her window open after all and going to the store crammed with people was high up in her do-not-want-to-do list, right after bungee jumping and holding an oral presentation in front of a class. But alas, against her mother she was defenseless and so she went along with her fate and accompanied her mother to the store. Upon leaving their house Michael Heroldt nodded morosely to his wife and daughter, as if they were soldiers leaving for the big battle.

In a way they were and as soon as they arrived, Rebecca regretted every decision that had led her to this day. People were visiting the store as if the world would end tomorrow, fighting their way through the masses, viciously digging their elbows in strangers sides to be out of the store five minutes sooner.

It was safe to say that Rebecca most definitely was not a happy camper.

Her comfort zone was her bed and she absolutely had no desire to leave it and her personal bubble was the size of an adult elephant, perimeter widening. So yeah, definitely not happy at all. And it showed, in an unhappy (some bad tongues would even call it constipated) glower at everyone around her and the world itself. Christine was content to let her daughter handle the cart only having to stop her twice (all right thrice) from smashing the cart into people who conveniently stopped in the middle of the isle.

Rebecca thought it cruel that her mother would deny her that little happiness, but life was harsh and they had a mission, so off to the bread it was and after deciding on four different loaves she was ready to burn the market into the ground, cackling over its ashes.

Of course her mother would not be her mother if she did not remember five metres from the exits that she needed some grapes to go along with the cheese to go along with the bread. The one who had to go and get said grapes was Rebecca who would rather gauge out her eyes with a spoon than go against the stream of people for those thrice damned grapes. During the 20 years she had known her daughter, Christine developed a immunity against all the bullshit her daughter said and did, so Rebecca's dramatic protest fell on deaf ears.

Surrendering to her dark fate and the prospect of getting more intimate with strangers than she ever wanted to, Rebecca buried herself deeper in her oversized dark grey sweater and made her way to get the evil fruit and decided to not leave her room for at least a week.

Now, what Rebecca should have done is making a straight line for the cursed fruit and high tail it out of the store.

What instead happened: a kind looking elderly woman waved her over, offering samples. And when she told her about this fruit she got her hands on, looking like an freaking cherry the size of a big apple and asked her to try it she should have said no, but her mother did not let her eat anything before leaving their house and she was hungry, and it was not like she could actually say no (pushy sales people were one of her mortal weaknesses) and this woman approached her even though she wore an expression that promised bodily harm so no harm no foul, right? Right.

In another universe her mother would have come for her, or one of the other people in the store would have finally succumbed to the holiday insanity and tackled her into the freaking stand.

It all would have been preferable, but unfortunately she existed in neither of these universes, so she thanked the woman and bit into the fruit,

Only to regret it instantly. It tasted sour but also kind of... rusty? It tasted like copper coins smelled and there were tears in her eyes. The kind smile of the lady before her being the one thing that prevented her from barfing it all up, along with the fact that she would rather suffocate on this damn monstrosity than make a scene. So she ignored her burning eyes and did the only thing a socially awkward, reclusive hermit could do in this situation: she swallowed.

With this she decided on her path and in an anticlimactic turn of events, simply zapped out of existence in one world and into another.

Really, it was all her mothers fault.

And the grapes, definitely the grapes.