Hey guys, so I thought one of these time travelling stories would be fun, so yeah, review? :D

Hannah xo

I poured myself a glass of Diet Coke and went in to my bedroom. It was 11.30pm and I was home alone on a Saturday night. I know what you're thinking. Why am I not having a huge party? Honestly, parties aren't my thing. I'd rather stay at home.

I turned my record player on and put A Hard Day's Night In. That album really puts me in a good mood. I chatted to some people on Tumblr, drank my Coke and eventually my eyes started to go together.

I was awoken a few hours later by the sounds of people talking. The record had long stopped playing and my room was dark. Who the hell was in my house?

Gulping, I slowly sat up and tried to pull back the covers, only I couldn't because something was weighing me down. There was someone on my bed!

I grabbed my iPod and unlocked it, using it as a flashlight. I found Paul Mc Cartney squinting. Looking like he'd stepped straight out of the movie A Hard Day's Night.

"Ey, what's that torch thing?" I heard a voice from my other side say.

I turned round and who should be looking at my iPod but John Lennon.

I jumped in fright.

"Okay, erm, yeah I'm dreaming, hang on," I said, burying my head in my pillow and trying to sleep. A few seconds later I opened my eyes and found the faces of Paul and John staring in to my eyes. Paul had the most soul-searching brown eyes I had ever seen. I could have gazed at them for hours. Suddenly, two more people crawled up from the end of the bed.

"Holy shit, it's Ringo and George," I said. "Okay, I need to make sure this is really happening," I pinched myself. Hard. "Oh my god, I'm not dreaming,"

"Why would you be dreaming?" said Ringo.

"Because it's 2012 and The Beatles are in my bedroom and you look as if you've came straight out of A Hard Day's Night," I replied.

"We have," said George.

"You what?" I asked, in disbelief.

"Yeah, we were filming, and then we heard our album for the movie playing and we followed the sound and ended up here, so we stayed and waited for you to wake up, because we don't know how to get back," he said.

"Right, well do you want tea or anything?" I asked, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"Tea would be lovely thanks," said Paul, smiling.

"I'll be back in a jiffy," I said, melting inside at his smile, and going out to the kitchen.

The Beatles were in my house. In 2012. On my fucking bed. They had no way of getting back to 1964. What the hell do I do now?

I pictured the scene back in the 60's. Dick Lester going mental at them not being there to film, Brian Epstein trying to calm him down, but being worried on the inside and everyone panicking.

I made a pot of tea, grabbed 5 cups and some sugar and milk, put it all on the table and called the boys out, who sat at the table and had their tea.

"Ta," said Ringo, raising his cup.

"No problem," I said.

"So, how do we get back?" wondered John out loud.

The four turned and looked at me expectantly.

"Well I don't know," I said. "I'm not Doctor bloody Who," I said under my breath.

"Let me get this straight, we're stuck 'ere then?" said John. "Eppy'll murder us,"

I suddenly froze. If they couldn't get back, would they live the remainder of their days here? Would John or George die? I had so many questions that needed answering.

"Look," I said. "We'll find you a way back. How'd you get here?"

"We heard our album playing, so we went and found out where it was coming from, starting singing along, and we kind of got sucked in, and came out of your record player," said Paul.

"So, if someone back in '64 plays A Hard Day's Night, you could listen to it from my player and go back. Hypothetically speaking," I said.

"Let's give it a whirl," said Ringo.

We went in to my room. "Wait," said John. "How long will it be before someone plays it, and what if it's some crazy fan?"

"He's got a point," said Paul.

"Well, I could play it and see what happens?" I said and they all nodded.

I restarted A Hard Day's Night and the boys started humming along. Suddenly, Ringo, who was nearest the record player, started to get sucked in, followed by George, then John and Paul, who, at the last second, grabbed my hand and I was getting sucked in with them.