DISCLAIMER: I claim ownership of nothing except my original character Jenna. Everything else belongs to their rightful owners.


The pages of my copy of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe showed how much love I had given it. The corners were smooth from being thumbed countless times, those on the first pages of chapters showing creases from dog-earing when a bookmark wasn't on hand. The paperback book had been through a lot, but as long as I could still read the ink, I didn't care how scratched or stained the cover and pages were.

I skimmed a few pages in the first chapter, resisting the temptation to lose myself in the story for the thousandth time. I noted a few details about setting and then turned the book over, leaving it open so that I could reference it again if necessary. I tore out a page from my notebook and started writing, scratching out the first few lines I wrote, and the next, and the ones after that before I was satisfied with my start.

My English class had been given a creative writing assignment over spring break. We were supposed to take a few scenes from our favorite book and write ourselves into the story and imagine what we would do and how it would affect the other characters and the plot.

The Chronicles of Narnia had been my favorite books ever since I first read them when I was a little girl, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe in particular. I daydreamed about journeying through Narnia with the Pevensies, meeting Aslan, and exploring the magical world. It was the first book I reached for when I was having a bad day, or when I was having a good one, or really any kind of day.

I worked for a bit, scratching out words here, adding in a phrase there, and then put my pen down, looking over what I had written. Our teacher liked to tell us to read our writing aloud, whether it was an essay or a poem, to help us catch problems. I touched my pendant to reassure myself, and then began to read:

"She sat up in bed, looking out the window of her room on the second floor of Professor Kirke's great manor. Her gaze focused on the gravel driveway where it crested the hill of the yard."

I frowned and changed a word before picking up the paper again.

"What are you doing?"

I looked up to see my mother standing at the door to my room.

"Reading my English homework."

"Out loud?"

I nodded. "I have my tourmaline, Mom, just like I always do. Don't worry."

I held up the prism of black tourmaline that hung from the silver chain around my neck. Mom stepped forward and examined the crystal for a minute before turning back around.

"Good. Don't take it off, Jenna."

"I know, Mom." I rolled my eyes as she left me alone again.

I opened my mouth to start reading again, but then an idea struck me. I checked that my mom really had gone back to the kitchen where she was making dinner, and then closed the door to my room. I lifted my necklace over my head and placed the chunk of tourmaline next to The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.

I hadn't tried reading out loud without the pendant for a few years. The tourmaline had been charmed by a local Wiccan shopkeeper to block my "gift" as she had called it. When I was five, I was just starting to read full books and actually understand them. One of my favorites was a tiny picture book about a fat cat named Matt. I'd been reading to Mom about how Matt sat around all day when all of a sudden I felt something nudge my leg. I looked down to see a chubby orange tabby looking up at me.

"Look, Mom! It's Matt the fat cat!"

Mom bought the tourmaline pendant the next day. She made me promise to never read aloud without it. Every now and then, though, I would read a short paragraph just to see if I could still bring the words to life, literally. And each time I would end up with a new flower, or a butterfly flitting around my room, or a storm brewing outside my window.

I had never tried reading something that I had written myself, though. I didn't know if my power worked with any writing or only writing that had been formally published. I figured this was the perfect opportunity to test that theory.

"She sat up in bed, looking out the window of her room on the second floor of Professor Kirke's great manor. Her gaze focused on the gravel driveway where it crossed over the hill of the yard. Mrs. Macready was due back from the train station any minute now with Jenna's new roommates. Jenna didn't know anything about them except that there were four of them - two boys and two girls - and that they had also been sent to the manor to escape the Nazi bombings of London. She had arrived at the professor's manor only a week before after her home town had been bombed twice in one week."

I felt something tug at my stomach and I dimly recognized the sensation of my power starting to work. I could feel it being drawn to the tourmaline on my desk, too, so I took the rock and threw it on my bed on the other side of the room, taking care to not hit Matt the fat cat where he was sleeping on my pillow. I felt the tugging sensation grow stronger and I continued reading.

"Jenna was nervous about meeting the new refugees, so she had feigned sickness that morning and gotten out of meeting them for at least that day. Mrs. Macready hadn't been happy when she had to bring Jenna breakfast in bed before heading out to the train station. Mrs. Macready was all about rules and schedules and keeping things just so.

"Jenna's room was one of the smaller guest rooms, with just enough room for a bed, a small wardrobe, a chest, and a night stand with a lamp on it. It still featured the beautiful architecture present throughout the house, though, with open rafters and darker beams along the walls. The window also provided a view of the manor's magnificent front lawn that was manicured every Thursday by a landscaper."

The tugging was affecting my whole body now and as I took a breath to keep reading the wind was suddenly knocked out of me with one huge yank on my core. I heard Matt yowl before the sound disappeared into an intense ringing. I dropped the paper and covered my ears even though the logical part of my brain told me it wouldn't help. I felt myself being tugged again and blackness crept up on my vision. I was lightheaded now and felt like I was going to faint any moment. It felt like I was in the middle of a tornado, the winds ripping at my very being.

Then everything stopped.

The ringing was replaced with the pounding of blood in my ears. The darkness in my vision was just from having my eyes closed tight. The air around me was still and I felt grounded again, no tugging at all.

I stayed like that, hands over my ears, eyes closed, for a few more moments, until my heart had slowed to its normal rhythm. Then I slowly opened my eyes, and my hands flew from my ears to my mouth as I gasped.

My desk and chair had disappeared. I was sitting on a bed now, the mattress giving slightly under me. In front of me was a window that allowed me to see a pristine green lawn with several trees overshadowing it all. A wide track of gravel wove its way across the lawn from where it appeared at the top of a hill to the building I was now in.

I slowly reached out toward the window and I realized my hand was shaking. My fingers pressed on the glass and I could feel the warmth underneath my fingertips where the sunlight had warmed the panes.

This was real.

I twisted around to take in the rest of my surroundings. The room was small, but the ceilings were high, with exposed rafters made of dark wooden beams. A chest sat at the foot of the bed, with a slender wardrobe in the corner. A nightstand stood next to the bed with an antique lamp and a little analog clock sitting on top.

A sound from outside drew my attention back to the window. A white horse was trotting over the top of the hill, its hooves crunching on the gravel. A carriage followed behind it, and a woman sitting on the bench in the front was lightly snapping the whip at the horse. Her small cries of "Come on!" carried to my window. As the horse pulled the carriage downhill I was able to see four people sitting in the back. Four small figures that looked like two boys and two girls.

The reality of where I was - or rather, the new reality - crashed down on me.

What have I done?


AN: Here is my second fan fiction! This time we're going to Narnia! I've got one planned for each movie that has been released (and possibly more!). Even though Jenna uses the book to enter the Pevensies' world, these stories will be based on the movies. They're just easier for me to reference and visualize and describe.
This chapter really just serves as a set-up for the real story. You'll have to wait until next week for that, though, so make sure to hit that follow button! ;)
New chapters for this will be posted every Tuesday. Thanks for reading, everyone!