So here it is, a new, revamped version of So Many Worlds to Choose From. I thought I'd restart. This is part one, and features the Labyrinth. I own nothing except my character and the story idea. In this chapter, all rights go to:

Jim Henson

J. R.R. Tolkien

C.S. Lewis

J.M. Barrie

Gaston Leroux/Andrew Lloyd Webber

All the geniuses behind Doctor Who, God knows they're all fabulous

Lewis Carroll

*Breathes heavily* Well, I hope you enjoy, please leave a review if you feel up to it, constructive criticism is always welcome!

Leah x

Rosie laid her head on the kitchen table. "I'm so bored."

Remembering that nobody was in the house to hear her, she got up and went into the living room. "I'm so bored!" she told the cat. The cat did not reply.

Rosie sighed and went outside. The weather was fantastic, at least. Not too cold, but also not hot enough to get bitten by some weird exotic insects that nobody knew the name of. She lay down on the grass. Simply too bored to go on, she told herself. Sure, she could read or watch a film, but the effort involved to walk upstairs made her feel sick.

Just stay outside, said a voice inside her head.

An unfamiliar voice. Not her own voice.

Rosie sat up, scared. Was she hearing things?

Don't worry, said the voice. And suddenly, the fear went away. She had a feeling of urgency now, and the voice encouraged her gently. Stand up, it said. Stand up.

Rosie did stand up, and not knowing why, she stuck her hand up and grabbed. She had caught something that she hadn't even seen. Bringing her hand slowly to her face, she saw what she had caught: a piece of paper.

Oh. She felt a huge disappointment. True, she had no idea what was going on, and she should probably be worried about this voice that she was hearing, but for a second, none of that had mattered. The sense of anticipation had been huge, and all she had was a piece of paper.

Read it, said the voice. It was more than a voice, it was a Voice. A thing, an important thing. It was friendly. If she had developed Schizophrenia (was that possible, so quickly?) then at least it was friendly.

Rosie sat down on the grass and looked at the paper. It was, in fact, a map. A worn, dog eared, brown map, with the ink faded slightly. She saw the basic outline of countries, like on any old map, but the names of the countries were …weird. She had never heard of them before. She didn't claim to be good a geography, but what kind of country was called Narnia?

She scanned the rest of the map. She ran inside quickly, grabbed a pen and the first scrap of paper she could find. She made a list of all the countries on the map. Lists were nice and organised, easy to comprehend. Lists were easy. As an extra touch, Rosie made it alphabetical. Even easier.

In the end, she had this:

Labyrinth

Middle Earth

Narnia

Neverland

Opera Populaire

TARDIS

Wonderland

It was just complete nonsense. She had noticed that while she had been writing, the little dot marked TARDIS had moved.

Somebody must have made this map, probably for fun. The names – although not the most imaginative - sounded magical and fun. Not boring, in other words.

Say one, said the Voice. See what happens.

Rosie hesitated. What I should do, she thought, is go to hospital and get my head examined. But she got that feeling again. That tingly, urgent feeling which said, you have to do this.

What harm can it do?

She looked at the first one on her lift. "Labyrinth," she whispered.

The world lurched and rushed up to meet her.

Bloody hell.