Hello there my lovelies! I'm back with a new chapter after like… two weeks? More? Sorry for the delay.

Now, since I respond to all reviews, I shall be responding to the anonymous ones at the before every chapter.

Nicole: I'm glad you like the story so far! Hopefully I'll be able to squeeze out more chapters, although they may be slow.

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed. If I did, there'd be so much yaoi—never mind. Ubisoft owns it.

Claimer: I own my OCs, this fanfic and that's about it.

Chapter 4

All Nine of Us

"Hey doofus, wake up," a gruff voice called.

"You can't sleep forever..." Someone touched my arm. Her voice was much softer and gentler. "Danielle, please wake up."

"YEAH! Wake up sleepy head!"

The loud one's screech pierced my eardrums and my eyes creaked open. I was in a field, and there seemed to be some sort of building looming in the background. It resembled my school, but there were a few key differences. There was so sun, moon, or stars in the sky. In fact, the world was almost 2D. Behind the building, instead of a background, it was filled with blackness. The world seemed to end beyond that point.

Yes?

"Remember us?" a girl with short brown hair asked. She was crouched in front of me, holding out a hand, presumably to help me up. I took it gratefully and was pulled into a standing position. Clearly I wasn't awake yet.

I think so...

"Good, then we can just go ahead with introductions," the brown-haired girl smiled. She was a bit taller than me and wore a checker patterned skirt with a blouse and vest. And judging by her high-rise boots, she seemed very fashionable. There wasn't a piece of clothing out of place. Her brown eyes sparkled as she grinned, she seemed like she had no worries in life.

First of all, what is this?

"This is your mind," another girl whispered eerily close to my ear. "You are asleep right now and this is your dream. It is the only way for you to communicate with us face to face. When you are conscious you can only hear our voices."

I spun around to the source of the voice and saw a light skinned girl with shoulder-length black hair. I only went up to her shoulders. Her sudden appearance caused me to stagger and take a few steps back until I could see her entirely. She was dressed in a black t-shirt, black jeans and running shoes. The typical teenager.

So am I going insane or have you just infiltrated my mind?

They looked at each other, as if contemplating whether it'd be a good idea to tell me or not. It was kind of pointless since they said the only reason they appeared was to explain everything to me, yet now they were unsure.

"She's right, it doesn't make sense for us to be so sceptical," the black-haired girl reasoned.

"Then are we just supposed to blurt out everything?" the male voice grumbled, his displeasure plain.

"We do not have a choice in this matter."

More people began materializing and I stared at them in awe and wonder. Yeah, I could definitely believe this was a dream.

The black-haired girl stepped forward, her fingers laced together in front of her. "Danielle, before we introduce ourselves, you must accept your condition first."

Oh? And what would that be?

"You know what it is," she smiled. It wasn't mocking or sarcastic, but rather sincere and sad. "You've researched this before, haven't you?"

"Come on," the male groaned. "You're a lot denser than I thought! Hello, a bunch of people in your head telling you what to do, your vision going blank and lapses in your memory? What are those symptoms of?"

I felt my lip twitching upward. Me, a mental disorder?

That's hilarious. I'm probably one of the most stable people on the planet.

The girl frowned. "We're not lying. If you don't believe us, then what explanation can you give us for hearing our voices during the day?"

My smile dropped and I stared at her feet, trying to come up with a plausible theory. The evidence pointed me in the mentally ill direction, but it just didn't fit. Mental illnesses didn't just pop out of nowhere. They took time to develop. From months to years, not minutes. So what the hell was going on?

"Have you realized it yet?" she whispered softly. Sombrely.

I nodded.

I'm only taking your word for it now because this is my mind and I don't have the evidence to prove you wrong.

And that the lack of evidence supports their claim.

"I'm glad," she smiled again and reached out to take my hand. I sensed no danger from any of them, despite the tall male's snide attitude. "Then we can begin." She pulled me to stand in front of their group, and then released me to take her place beside the brown-haired girl.

"HELLO!" the brown-haired girl screamed in my face. I winced and took a step back.

Hello to you too...

She grinned at me and scratched at the back of her head. "Sorry 'bout that, I'm just really excited to be finally meeting you in person." I just nodded dumbly and she took it as a sign to continue. "My name's Simone, I'm nineteen-years-old, five-foot nine-inches and—"

"Simone! You don't have to give your whole life story!"

"Alright, alright... geez. Anyway, I represent the happy side of you."

My eyebrows rose in bewilderment. The what side of me?

So you're saying I'm a miserable person?

"No, no, no!" she exclaimed, waving her hands around wildly. "It's just that you're usually unhappy—"

What?

"No, that's not what I meant!" There was snickering in the background but we both ignored it. "Like, I'm how you would be like if you were happy all the time—"

That makes no sense.

"Um, well," she spluttered. Her eyes darted back and forth before fixing on a girl with long black hair. Simone pointed at her accusingly, "She's the miserable part of you!"

Said girl turned her head sideways to look at Simone in apathy. "Actually, I do not represent her miserable side. There isn't one of us that does at the moment."

"Well, let's keep going then. She's said all she needs to."

"And more," someone commented.

The male standing next to her sighed. "Guess I got to go now, huh." He ran a hand through his hair like Jason would and avoided eye contact. In fact, there were a lot of similarities. He had the same red hair that went a bit past his ears and blue eyes. He adorned the same shoes as Jason; converse with black marker scribble lines on the side. Along with a pair of loose blue jeans, he wore a t-shirt with the bio-hazardous symbol on it; Jason's favourite symbol. "The name's Isaac. According to these guys I'm your manly side."

I beamed at him childishly, I knew I had a manly side hidden somewhere deep inside of me!

He gave me a blank stare. Then, "You're all right."

Glad to know you approve.

"You're next, kid," Isaac grunted. He shifted slightly and I caught the glimpse of a small child clinging to Isaac's pant leg. Simone tried to usher him forward gently, but he vehemently shook his head and only hugged Isaac's leg closer.

I felt a smile creeping onto my face and crouched down. He looked at me with big eyes, but they weren't fearful. I extended a hand and waited to see if he would take it. The kid looked up at Isaac, Isaac nodded.

"Come on Vince, it's okay. She won't hurt you~" Simone cooed, arms wide open. The kid only looked at her in caution and backed away. The disappointment on Simone's face was hysterical, but I didn't laugh since Isaac did it for me. He sniggered at her and she glared light-heartedly at him.

"He doesn't like you."

"I noticed," she shot back.

What's his name? I asked Isaac.

"He's Vincent, and he should be introducing himself," Isaac replied as he bent down and lifted Vincent up. He was obviously startled at being lifted, but as most kids had it, being lifted was fun and a big grin spread across his face. Isaac held him up with both arms and turned him around so that he was facing me at eye level. "Go on kid, she's all right."

Vincent's gaze was downcast, and I caught some faint pink across his cheeks. It was cute how he was so embarrassed. He looked to be around six or seven years old with soft curls framing his face and a pair of blue eyes. Even his clothes were adorable. He wore dark blue long sleeves and black cargo pants with boyish sandals.

It's okay Vincent, I'm not a bad person. I tried to sound as harmless as possible and craned my neck around to look at him from below. His eyes went wide as he struggled a bit in Isaac's grasp.

"Hey, calm down!" Isaac was clearly frustrated, I figured he didn't deal with small children often. "Kid, it's okay."

Vincent calmed down for the most part and ceased his struggling. My guess was that the eye contact only made him more embarrassed and that was why he started kicking. There was only one way to conquer this. He didn't look too young, so it'll probably work. It worked on my brother when he was four.

Isaac, let me carry him.

Isaac looked at me like I grew another head, "Are you insane? The kid starts crying as soon as anyone other than me picks him up. What makes you think—Hey!"

I ignored Isaac's remarks and plucked Vincent out of his arms. The kid froze on contact, but as soon as I steadied my arms, he buried his face in my neck and grabbed onto my shoulders.

I smirked at Isaac. He turned his head away and glared at nothing.

"Not faaair, he never does that when I try to pick him up!" Simone raved. I grinned in triumph at her and patted Vincent's head. "Oh, rub it in why don't you."

I already am.

"Okay, now that we've established that Danielle is good with kids, can we move on? It doesn't look like Vincent is going to talk anytime soon."

Is he mute?

Simone opened her mouth to reply, but Isaac cut her off, "We don't know for sure. He might be. He's only been here for less than a day."

I see...

"Let's wait," the long black-haired girl said. She had the same black hair as me, but hers went almost to her waist. Her eyes were also like mine; green, but a darker shade. Her clothes felt strangely familiar. I know I've seen someone wear a white turtleneck sweater, blue skirt with black tights and black boots. But where...? "If he doesn't say a word in a week, then we'll tell you what he represents. It should be fairly obvious, but since you're in such denial, it may take a while."

My lips pressed thin and my eyebrows furrowed at this. They were still going on about this. And if Vincent hasn't spoken a word, how did they find out his name?

Just a question out of curiosity, how'd you guys find out his name?

"I had to guess," Isaac muttered. "He only responded with head nods or shakes and it took me nearly an hour to get it right."

"No use in delay," the girl to my left interjected. "I'm next anyway. My name is Helen and I am your rational side."

This is completely whack. So far you guys have implied that I'm not very happy—manly I can understand—but now rational? I run on reason and rationality.

Helen looked at me with the same indifference and replied, "That is incorrect. If you were truly as reasonable and rational as you say you are, you wouldn't be having those doubts or taken that teleportation pod."

My teeth ground together in anger at being talked back by my own mind. Whatever...

She sighed and shook her head lightly. I had the biggest urge to demand what she meant by that when the next person stepped forward and began speaking.

"I'm Morgan, nice to finally meet you," she didn't smile or anything, just held out a hand for me to shake. I forgot my anger at Helen and shook Morgan's hand. She wore mismatching but oddly fitting clothes. A purple tank-top and blue jean shorts. Like, short-shorts. At least she wore normal sneakers. "I present the... more devious part of you."

Devious? Now this is interesting. I didn't know I had it in me.

Nice to meet you too, Morgan. Say, you would warn me if you were to prank me, right?

Morgan's lips twitched, but she kept her poker face intact. "It wouldn't be fun if I did."

Well, I'm screwed. I laughed. I always seem to walk headfirst into pranks.

"Maybe," she whispered cryptically, and then stepped back.

I took a few steps to my left to face the next person. Hey, what's up?

"Lauren," she mumbled, head lowered and hand extended. But unlike Morgan, her grip wasn't firm and her hands arms were a bit slack. I always hated having to shake hands with people with jellyfish limbs, but since this was my mind, I tolerated it. She had medium length brown hair with brown eyes. Her clothes were a bit of a mystery though. I didn't see many people wearing dresses these days, but she pulled it off quite well. The white dress was simple with two shoulder straps and it ended right above her knees. A light blue sash like belt showed how thin she was. Too bad, put a bow in her hair and her image would be complete. At least she wore white boots, which, might I add, were very cute. "I..."

Yes? Go on.

She leaned in close to my ear; apparently this was a big deal. "I vent your deepest sorrows."

Hurh?

O...kay.

The last girl guided her by the shoulders and led her away from the group, spoke a few words to her and then, Lauren vanished. She didn't poof away in a puff of smoke, but rather her image distorted and flashed a few times before blinking out of sight. The girl that guided her away then returned. She sported the gangster look with short, spiky black hair and charcoal black eyes. She wore black baggy pants, a loose black t-shirt with a decorative skull, a red bandana around her neck and... hiking boots? Well, it still made her look tough.

"And I'm Janelle, but you can call me Jan or Elle," she spoke confidently. Janelle's posture was the stark opposite of Lauren's. She stood tall with her back straight and face forward. When I shook her hand, I felt that her grip was a bit too strong, and my fingers longed for the blood to return. "I take over when you can't take the heat."

"Janelle!" Morgan hissed.

"What?" she snapped. "She's going to find out sooner or later."

"Not now!"

"Fine, fine," she rolled her eyes. "I'm here so that you don't break down crying when—what?"

Morgan had pinched her on the forearm.

"You're being too vague."

"Well how else am I supposed to say it?"

Helen sighed in exasperation, "Just say it as it is."

"What? That I'm her evil side?"

There was a pregnant pause. All except Janelle tried to avoid eye contact.

"What?"

"Nothing, let's move on," Helen replied.

Okay then...

"I'm Marissa." I looked over my shoulder to see the short black-haired girl step forward. "I represent the forgiveness within you."

That's pretty deep, I mused. I hadn't really taken a careful look at her before, but now I saw that she seemed to be the ring leader. Her very presence demanded acknowledgement, even if she was the forgiving part of me. She also wore all black, but instead of intimidating, she looked harmless. A long sleeved shirt, skinny jeans and flats. I also noticed that she was the only one to wear jewellery. She had small round diamond studs, but they were on the bottom lobe of her ears.

"I'd love to explain more to you, but your body is exhausted and it's time for this session to come to an end."

Simone smiled widely at me, waving... goodbye? In an instant she blinked away. I looked to the side and they all started to blink and vanish.

"We'll speak soon," a soft voice whispered next to me. It was a ghost of a sound, floating by gently as if it were being swept away by the wind. But this was my mind, and there was no wind. Actually, there was nothing at all. They were all gone.

There was something warm on my forehead. It was slightly damp, and the texture was that of rough cloth. My sides burned and clenched as I tried to move.

"Stay still," a monotone voice berated me. "I'm almost done."

My eyes opened for the second time today and my vision came into focus much slower than usual. "Khalid?"

"What is it, child?" the middle-aged man responded without sparing me a glance, too busy supporting me with one arm while bandaging my stomach.

My first instinct made me lean on my elbows to give him a break. He wasted no time in wrapping much quicker than before, just in case I became faint. "How long have I been asleep for?"

"Not very long," he grunted as he tied the bandages together with a heave. I could tell he'd been working all day, and it didn't seem like he got much help. "You've only been unconscious for ten to fifteen minutes."

Wow, that wasn't long at all. But I felt even more tired than before.

"Sorry, we forgot to tell you that talking to all of us at once will sap your energy," Marissa apologized.

It's fine. The next time you guys want to talk though, just do it when I'm not already dead tired?

"No problem," Simone chirped. "Hey, he's looking at you weird."

I lifted my head and saw Khalid staring at me expectantly. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"Yes, I asked if you were hungry."

I opened my mouth to respond, but my stomach responded for me. It growled loudly and I grinned at Khalid sheepishly. "Maybe a little..."

"Breakfast has been long over, but lunch will be served shortly. I'll have one of the servants to bring you something."

"Thank you," I said meekly. For some reason when he said servants, I felt lesser—like I was one of them. Heck, I'll probably become one of them sooner or later.

Khalid exited the room and returned shortly. He gave me instructions on how to sit up without agitating my wound and how much exercise I was limited to each day. I didn't like the prospect of not being able to walk around for more than an hour a day, but what could I do?

"You've been very helpful," I complimented. "Thank you."

"There is no need to thank me, child," he replied with a small smile. Good to know I was making friends.

"If you don't mind me asking, when would be a good time for me to speak with your master?"

Khalid paused in washing a bloodied cloth and pondered my question. "If I remember correctly, Malik said that a servant would be sent for you. However, if you feel that you are able, I will see if he would be willing to see you now."

I felt like a cow in a slaughter factory. Malik and Khalid were very nice to me, and I wanted to believe that their Master was just as benevolent. But my assumptions were often wrong, and I felt the need to prepare myself for the worst case scenario. If I were to be executed—perhaps for being accused of being a witch? Ha, medieval times—then I had to plot out my escape plan. To do that, I'd need a basic knowledge of the grounds. I memorized how to get in and out from the medical room to the gardens and to the city when I was brought in, but that was it.

"I'll wait for the servant..."

"A wise choice, seeing as you would be in too much pain to answer the Master properly." Khalid took the cloth and hung it over a clothes line of some sort. He then reached for another one and began washing it. He didn't say anymore, and I felt complied to start a conversation. But on what?

I wasn't given any time to think, because a servant girl walked into the room, spotted me, and placed a food tray beside my mat. I thanked her and she scurried away, as if I threatened her. My face dropped and I picked up a piece of bread, shoving it in my mouth with complete disregard of eating manners.

When I was halfway done my meal, I caught Khalid looking at me oddly. "Did I do something?"

He turned away, embarrassed at being caught but quickly composed himself. "No. The way you eat is most... different from our culture."

I blushed furiously when I realized what I had been doing. "Sorry, I don't usually eat like this—actually, I don't know why I just started inhaling my food... I'm usually calmer than this." Although I have every reason to freak out.

He laughed and shook his head like a parent would do when their child did something stupid. I felt like that child. "It is nothing to apologize over, but I think it would be beneficial to you if you learned the basics of our culture so you do not offend our Master."

I perked up at that and nodded. "I would like that."

"Good," he said and got up to hang up two more cloths. "Shall we begin now?"

"Sure..." I mumbled. Now that my hunger was satiated, I could think more clearly now. First things first, why was Khalid being so nice to me? Malik did only what he had to, but Khalid was going out of his way for me. My curiosity got the best of me and I asked. "Khalid, if you don't mind me asking, why are you doing this?"

"I thought you might ask," he sighed and took a seat across from me. "After you passed out, Malik returned; he had forgotten to tell me that your attitude would get you in trouble and asked me to teach you our basic mannerisms."

Oh, well that explains it.

"Ah," was all I could say. I poked my fingers together and bit my lip.

"Yes, I was perplexed at first too. But now I understand why he requested that."

"And why is that?" I asked in earnest curiosity.

"Malik feels something odd about you. Not necessarily in a bad way, just odd. I can't help but think it would be wasteful to leave you for dead."

Wasteful. That's another word for pity.

"No, it's not."

You be quiet, this is my conversation.

"Suit yourself, but try not to drown in paranoia this time. It takes a toll on our nerves."

"So, what's the first thing I should know?"

Khalid outlined how to speak to a man, to another female, and how to address people. I listened carefully and nodded every now and then to show him I was still listening. I never took ancient history in my three years of high school, and was beginning to regret it a bit.

At least I knew geography.

Khalid expanded a bit on what would be expected of women in this time and place, and the information sunk in. I knew I basically had no rights before he started talking, and that women were most likely used as slaves, but hearing this from someone who probably expected me to act this way made my blood boil.

I couldn't help it. Growing up in an era of equality, this was too surreal and ridiculous for me to accept.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Yeah," I sat up straight, suddenly having an urge to prove myself. "What are the consequences if I behave out of line?"

"Well, you'd most certainly get a scolding, and depending on the severity of your actions and who was offended, it could differ greatly."

I grinned cheekily, "What if I called you a bumhole?"

"I'd smack you over the head," he laughed.

I like Khalid. He's nice to me.

"He's a medic, he's probably used to people being vulgar when they're in pain. It must be a nice change to have a decent conversation and not be yelled at."

I guess. I should know. People who got surgery when the anaesthesia didn't work were really loud. Can't blame them.

"Oh, if it's not too much trouble, is there a mirror nearby? I just want to see the... extent of my injuries."

I must have been shocking Khalid a lot today, because he kept giving me bewildered looks. "Are you sure? Most people do not want to face the scars and disfigurations of their bodies, but you are... eager?"

I shrugged for a lack of better words. "I'm just curious and kind of excited."

"Alright," he agreed, albeit uncertain. "You can have a look when it is time to change your bandages."

I opened my mouth to thank him, but a servant girl walked in at that moment and stopped by the side of my mat. "The Master would like to speak with you. Please follow me."

"Eh?" I leaned up on one elbow and took a double take between the servant girl and Khalid. He motioned with his head for me to get up and follow her. "So much for rest…"

I rolled into a semi-kneeling and rising position and got up without much hassle. The servant girl was waiting for me by the stony entrance, and my knees faltered a bit before finding my footing. She turned silently and walked briskly ahead of me, making the gap wider and wider until she reached a turning point and would wait for me.

Curse this wound, still hurts like a bitch to walk.

We continued like this for a few more minutes before she stopped at some stairs. "The Master is waiting for you at the top of these stairs." Without ever looking up to meet my eyes, she turned quickly and almost fled from me.

This can't be good.

I reluctantly made my way up the stairs, dread brewing in the pit of my stomach. This was it. The guy that would decide whether I'd live or die, and I hadn't even plotted out my escape plan yet. I was too caught up in trying to keep with the servant girl...

"Hello?" I called out as I neared the last few steps.

"Come, child."

I saw an old man sitting behind a desk, writing.

"Um, hi, I'm Danielle," I introduced myself awkwardly. He didn't look up from his desk and kept writing for a few more lines before finally getting up and acknowledging me.

"So, you are the one that has been causing this entire ruckus," he said as he walked in circles around me.

"Ruckus?"

"Yes." He stopped in front of me. "The entire city is in frenzy. They are wondering who you are, where you came from and why you are here. Your mere presence stirred up an uproar."

I recounted our walk through the city; the many people going up to Malik, casting me curious yet suspicious glances. Word really does spread like wildfire.

"I'm sorry for causing a disturbance."

He held up a hand, and I guessed that meant I had said enough. "Do not dwell on that, child. Now come, sit down." He gestured to a chair placed near his desk. I took a seat and he resumed his spot behind the giant desk. "Now, you must answer me honestly. We have no room for lies and treachery."

"I'm not a liar," I said confidently. I couldn't remember the last time I told a lie. I resolved that lying wasn't worth it a long time ago, and no matter how painful the truth got, I would say it.

He looked at me with a kind of caution and suspicion that seemed like he dealt with people who claimed this often. "Then tell me this, which country are you from?"

"Canada."

To my despair, he pulled out a dagger and began to examine it. "Canada, you say? Where is this?"

"In North America."

This went on for at least another half hour. He kept asking more and more detailed questions, and then asked them backwards. It was obvious that he was trying to weed out a lie, but since I answered all his questions truthfully, I had no problem in responding to any of them. He then started to ask about my family. Although this was more personal, I still didn't hesitate in replying. I feared that if I did, he'd get the false belief of me lying.

In the end, I had ended up describing the geological characteristics of Canada and the United States, the distance of the Atlantic Ocean from North America to Europe, and the distance of the Pacific Ocean from North America to Asia.

I also described the place where I lived, our buildings, customs a bunch of other stuff I deemed to be normal. This whole process took almost an hour since I had to explain things over and over again while thinking up several similes. It was extremely tiring, and I was most thankful when it ended.

He also learned about my family, and I had to explain why women were allowed to work and have equality.

"One last question, do you know which year this is?"

An odd question. Malik must have told him about me asking about that.

"Yes. Malik informed me that it is currently 1192. But…"

"But?"

"I'm not from this time period." I held up my hands beside my head in a kind of surrender and got up hastily. "I know, I know, I'm crazy. But please, you have to believe me, I'm really from the year 2020 and I have a feeling I know how I got here."

He had put the dagger away a long time ago. "Do tell, how did you come here?"

"Remember that teleportation pod I mentioned earlier? Well, technology seems to really hate me and the pod I took malfunctioned. Instead of sending me through space, it sent me through time." I sat down again once I regained my composure. "I don't know the extent that the technicians had to mess up as badly as that for it to happen, but that's how it went."

"Your story is filled with talk of sorcery and otherwise nonsense." He pushed his chair back and stood with purpose. "I don't suppose you have any proof for your claims."

My eyes lit up as he said this. "Actually, I do! Malik tied my bag to his horse. I'm not sure if he forgot to take it down, but all my things, including some money are in there. If you see it you'll believe me."

He turned around with his back to me, contemplating. I saw him raise his hand up to his chin, and I could only imagine him stroking his beard.

I had to suppress a giggle. It would be bad if I giggled. And inappropriate.

"Very well." He clapped his hands twice loudly. A servant girl came rushing up the stairs. Wow, these people had some hearing. And this isn't the epitome hierarchy, I don't know what is. "Bring the bag."

She bowed and scurried away. In no time, she returned with my bag. To my relief, it didn't look any different than it did when I left the house. Al Mualim, as I had learned was their Master's name, handed me the bag.

"Thank you," I said in courtesy. I set the bag on the floor and dug out my binder, pencil case, first-aid kit, wallet and agenda. "Here," I held up a five dollar bill and pointed to the bottom. "See the date? This bill was made in 2003."

Al Mualim scrutinized the bill. "Although I do not know what else it reads, the numbers do add up. And this is your currency?"

"Yes," I said as I picked out some change from my wallet. "We use coins as well, but coins are worth less than bills. There are also other forms of paying for things, but going into detail about that would be pointless."

"Interesting. Is this all?" He held the bill out for me to take back.

"Oh no, I have lots more," I was surprisingly eager to show him all my things. I kind of felt a parent teaching a child. I handed him my agenda first. "Here's my school agenda. See, on the cover it says 2020 – 2021. Those are the years that a regular school year covers. It starts in September and ends in June."

"It is still hard to believe that you are a time traveller, but your evidence is respectable." He flipped through the pages of the agenda and caught sight of the calendar. He must have been hoping that the pages were blank.

"Oh but wait, there's more." I turned my first-aid kit upside down and pointed to the date on the bottom. "See, I got this during my summer vacation. It was made in 2020."

Al Mualim was slowly becoming convinced, I could feel it. This was good. This was very good. I have a good chance of living now.

"And my pencil case," I added in a rush, grabbing a handful of lead pencils, pens and gel pens. "See, if you look at these, you'll find that all the dates are from the twenty-first century."

"This is most interesting," he remarked, holding up the gel pens close to his face. "What is this?"

"That's a gel pen," I responded while still digging through my bag. I had to have more things in here that had date on them. "It's a writing utensil, and the colour of the gel inside is the colour that it writes. Very useful for organizing my notes."

"Ingenious. This gel does not spill and it is very portable."

"Yes, and I can't seem to find my cellphone. Oh wait, it's in my pocket." I laughed at my own forgetfulness and fished it out of my left jean pocket. "Here, I bet you've never seen this before."

Al Mualim returned my other belongings to me and took the phone. "No, I admit I have not."

"It's a cellphone," I explained. "It lets you communicate to other people over long distances as far as the other side of the planet." He seemed shocked and demanded how it was possible. "Well, there are these things called GSM towers set up all over the planet and they send signals to the cellphone. Once the cellphone receives the signal, it sends a signal back, and that signal is sent to a specific tower that then sends the signal to a different device. The signal is almost instant, so the moment someone speaks on the other side from wherever they are, you hear it immediately."

"But how can you hear anything from this tiny device?" The incredulity in his voice was awesome in a way. I felt so smart.

"Can I give you a demonstration? I can't really explain speakers well, but the sound comes from speakers."

He hesitated.

"It's not a weapon, I swear. In fact, it's fragile and no one would ever think of using it to attack anyone."

It seems as if I read his mind, and he put it in my outstretched hand. I unlocked the touch screen and selected my music player. Choosing a song without an overkill of rap, the word baby, or dirty lyrics was hard, but I managed. As the song came on, I saw the astonishment and wonder on Al Mualim's face.

I feel all powerful right now. Please let this last.

"This is inconceivable!"

"Oh, it's no big deal, just technology from the future," I tried to play it cool. "So, do you believe me now?"

End of Chapter 4

Hopefully this clears up the voices. Anyone guess what the disorder is? Must be pretty obvious now, although I've made some adjustments to hers. Also, inspiration for it came from Yu Yu Hakusho, one of the best animes in the history of anime. In my opinion OTL

Important! Please read, especially if you were confused about this chapter.

Just in case you're still confused about the talking format in Danielle's dream, I'll try to explain as best as possible:

"Hey doofus, wake up," a gruff voice called.

This is normal dialogue for the other people inside her head.

What is this? (Said by Danielle)

This is Danielle speaking with her mind. I'll get more into it later on.

The loud one's screech pierced my eardrums and my eyes creaked open.

Normal description.

Remember, this is only the format for dreams. When she is conscious, the italicized words in quotations represent the other people talking to her.

Last thing, I don't know if I've said this before, but my stories are always UNBETA'D, so if you catch an error, please, please, please tell me. Sometimes I go back and re-read it and end up finding like five grammar mistakes and missing words.

Thank you very much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews are loved~