In my opinion, reading is the best way to spend my time. Curled up in a blanket on the couch, holding a rom-com and sipping some iced tea with red food dye to make it look like wine just hits differently when you're fifteen years old and cannot wait to leave home and fly.
Yes, it's cheesy but, that's for a reason. When I was first fifteen, four years ago, I could not wait to leave for university in a big city, get a job and have enough money to afford a whole library, all to myself. The books would be pristine, no one but family allowed to visit and even then, no food and drinks near the precious pages.
I was cuddled in a vast blanket I had stolen from my parent's bedroom, cozied up and warm as I read the seventh book of a new series I had found not even two weeks ago. The Sisters Grimm, by a man named Michael Buckley.
"What does he look like, Red? Who is he?"
I shook my head then, disapproving of Sabrina. In my humble opinion, the girl was too pushy. I loved all the characters, Sabrina included, but she treated Daphne like a child and yet expected Red, who was physically the same age, to act like an adult. Hypocritical of her, and I did not like it.
My little sister, who was, ironically, named Daphne, slept next to me. She was a little ball, her arms wrapped around her legs and snuggled into my side as I flipped pages, the light of my flashlight being the only thing providing light.
I yawned, seconds later slipping into a dream I could not remember when I woke up, but I know one thing. It was not a normal dream.
When I woke up, everything felt funny. The blankets I was wrapped in felt softer, and bigger, cocooning me completely and only leaving my face exposed to the cold morning air. As I opened my eyes, I realized something else. The ceiling was entirely too close for comfort, and I could not tell why. Deciding it would be a good idea to figure this mystery out, I began the process of untangling myself from the blanket. When I looked down, however, I almost screamed.
Not only was the blanket completely different, now dirty blue instead of the creamy white it had been last night, but my body was completely different. What the hell, I thought to myself. My arms were long and thin, almost lanky, and what I could see of my legs was the same. I also had golden-blonde hair falling over my shoulders and a nonexistent chest, which had most definitely been there the night before.
I hurriedly kicked my legs over the edge of the bed when I finished with the blanket, and almost fell off since my bare feet could not reach the floor. I tumbled off the mattress and hit a wooden surface instead of the familiar carpet in my bedroom.
What the hell is happening?
I was scared. I was scared to make a noise, I was scared to open the door, I was afraid to look in the mirror, and I was scared of not having my phone there with me to call my parents. I was, however, mostly scared for Daphne.
I tumbled out the barren door, not even paint covering the old wood as I ran out, looking for what looked like the way to somewhere else. To the left of the room, I had just escaped was a light, which I ran for. Reaching a set of stairs, I ran down and spun right, only to come to an empty kitchen.
It was a medium-sized room, with white tiles on the floor and beige on the walls. A large fridge stood in the corner between two windows, a bowl the size of a salad dish next to it, the word ELVIS written on the metal in bright red paint. Everything else was uninteresting, and no people were in it either.
I ran back to where I came from and past the stairs, straight into a living room. Actually, it was more like a library than a living room. The walls were covered in shelves filled with books, the coffee table was supported by a stack of books, and more and more books were everywhere. They were on the floor, under the couch and stacked in corners up to the ceiling in massive piles that reminded me of dark castles.
Most importantly, there were people in this room. An old woman, slightly taller than me and wearing an old-style dress, looked at me with concern on her face. A tall, thin man stood next to her, his gray hair pressed flat against his head. The look he gave me scared me even more, and I looked away at the third person in the room.
This was a boy, probably about eleven years old. My age now, I thought. He had messy, pale blonde hair and an expression of confusion and entertainment on his face. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, and his clothes were ratty and old. Stains covered the hoodie, and he had several rips on his pants, which definitely were well-worn, but did not look well-loved.
"What the hell," I finally spoke, my voice being several pitches more childish than I remembered it being. "What the hell,"
"Sabrina!" the woman scolded, "Watch your language, liebling," her tone, however, turned softer when she took in my appearance. "Why are you so upset, child?"
"What…?" I blinked at her. "Who's Sabrina? Where's my sister? Where's Daphne? Who're you?"
"Liebling, what do you mean?" the woman tried to come closer to me, but I stepped back.
"Who are you?" I pressed harder, my voice shaking. I felt tears forming in my eyes and did my best to blink them away, but instead one slipped out and down my cheek.
"I'm your Grandmother, Sabrina," the woman reminded me gently then, realizing that something was not right.
"I-" I swallowed, "I'm not Sabrina. I'm Nina. Nina Lopez."
"Excuse me?" the man spoke up now, his voice much harsher than the woman was. "What do you mean, you're not Sabrina?"
"I mean I'm not Sabrina, whoever she is," I started getting angry now, "Who are you? Like, name, not who you are to this Sabrina person,"
"I'm Relda," the woman spoke up again, looking at me with what looked to be sadness or fear, I couldn't tell at the moment and was too scared myself. "Relda Grimm. And I am sure that you are Sabrina, at least physically."
"Relda Grimm?" my voice was weak as my tears disappeared and my eyes widened. "Like, as in related to the Brothers Grimm, Relda?"
"Yes," she looked at me strangely, "How do you know that?"
I ignored her, instead staring at the man, "You. You're the- Canis. Mr. Canis."
"I am," he confirmed, understanding that I knew more than I expected to.
"No," I groaned, pressing my back to the wall and sliding down to the ground, breaths coming in shallow inhales.
"What's your problem?" the boy looked at me funnily, but I did not have enough air to answer the questions of petty preteen boys. Especially when I suspected them to be fae princes who particularly loved pranking.
"What-"
"Don't you recognize me too?" he puffed out his chest, looking more like a monkey now. "Me, the Trickster King, Prince of Faerie-"
"Shut up," I huffed, tears forming in my eyes again as Relda shushed the self-proclaimed King.
Canis came closer to me, squatting down next to me. He pulled my hands away from my face, pressing them both to the floor as I sat down completely, legs curling against my chest as I struggled to breathe.
Relda-
Canis-
Wolf-
Prince-
Where's my sister-
Daphne-
I can't breathe-
I need air-
No-
WHY AM I IN A BOOK?
The words raced in my mind, shattering any sense of calm I had before the two introduced themselves.
"Look at me." Canis growled, and I realized I had shut my eyes. I opened them to see him right in front of me. "Breathe." He told me when to breathe in and out, I followed his commands. I don't know why how I listened and obeyed through my panic, but I managed to get my breathing under control.
"Thank you," I muttered quietly when Canis stood up, dusting off his jacket. The man left the room without saying a word, and I heard his footsteps as he walked up the stairs.
"Liebling…" Relda started, then stopped herself, "How about we go to the kitchen?" she suggested a second later.
"I'm coming too," the boy informed us.
"You're Puck, right?" I prayed silently, hoping I hadn't just had a breakdown in front of some boy I had never even heard of. Puck could at least be trusted, and I wouldn't care about the teasing as much as long as he didn't bring this up. I doubted he would ever mention it. That was a lie, but I hoped.
"Obviously," he looked at me like I was stupid.
"That's fine, then," I responded calmly, then stood up shakily, holding the wall for support as I walked to the kitchen on shaky legs.
Once Puck and I settled into chairs, Relda bustling around making something to eat, I told them what happened. I was fifteen, not eleven. I had living parents, not ones who had gone missing. I was Spanish, not German. They were reluctant to hear it, but I thought they understood me.
"So what you're saying, is you know nothing about what happened?" Puck snickered at me.
"Obviously," I rolled my eyes, looking at Relda- Granny (she insisted I call her that despite everything) with gratitude as she handed me a steaming cup of what smelled like hot coffee. I sipped it, and as the foam moved on the surface I could see that in actuality the liquid was blue. My eyes widened and I looked up at Granny in confusion, "What is this?"
"Coffee, with some spices to calm you down," she smiled. "It might look funny, but it helps better than normal coffee, trust me. I had two teenage boys in this house, and this helped,"
I shrugged and continued drinking. It didn't taste bad, just like someone had added cinnamon to the drink, and some blue food colouring.
"So, do you know how this-" I motioned to myself, "Could've happened?"
She sighed, finally sitting down after giving Puck his own strange mixture of colours in a transparent beer mug, which he happily slurped, to my disgust. "I don't know, liebling. There may be something in the diaries- do you know about the diaries? How do you even know all this if you're not a Grimm?"
"Where I'm from, we have a book series about two girls named Daphne and Sabrina Grimm, their Granny Relda, Uncle Jake, and Puck," I looked at her with a straight face. "I was just reading the third-last book of the series as I fell asleep and got here."
"So, what, you know the future or something?" Puck looked at me skeptically.
"I guess," I shrugged.
"Awesome," he instantly grinned and started thinking.
"I'm not gonna tell you anything!" I warned, but his sneaky little mind had come to a conclusion I did not like at all.
"Wait a damn second." he frowned at me. "I'm the only guy your age you mentioned as the main character. We're the same damn age. Authors love making people the same age of opposite genders fall in love." he looked at me as if to confirm it, and when I didn't deny his claim he moaned loudly. "No!"
"As far as I can tell, you're different here," I tried to reassure him, "It probably won't even happen. I doubt it will, at least,"
"I disagree," Granny interrupted, "There's a very high possibility of that,"
"Why?" Puck looked at her in horror.
"Well, I've heard of something like this before, and the man it happened to did not change things like who lived or died, so I doubt your presence here would affect the flow of events too much, Nina. It will probably even speedrun some things since you already know what will happen. Your subconsciousness will just help the events along with or without your permission," she explained.
"Wait, but you said you don't know how this could've happened-" I started.
"I don't," she confirmed, "Basil, however, your Grandfather, did,"
"What?" I looked at her with wide eyes.
"He told me things like this happened frequently within the Grimm family. Either the youngest or the oldest child became a changeling at age eleven, the moment the family magic would start showing itself in a child."
"Magic?" I was stunned, then that turned to fear and I looked at her with horror, "But in the books, Sabrina was addicted to magic. She couldn't handle it without going woozy and nearly dying."
"Family magic would do that to someone, yes," Granny looked as if she had aged several years over the past twenty minutes, "This is how it works, child. One of the children is born with an addiction to magic, they cannot handle it as well as the others can. At your age, if they are lucky, something happens. Something or someone removes the original Grimm, replacing them with someone better suited for the role they are given. We don't know how it happens, or what happens to the actual original Grimm, but you should just know that if you're here, that's where you're meant to be. Not as Nina, but as Sabrina Grimm,"
"That can't be right." I disagreed, "If the original Grimm isn't right for the role, wouldn't the proper child be born in their place from the start instead of being switched? Why to bother making the child so scared?" then another thought came to mind, "Was Uncle Jake switched?"
She smiled at me sadly, "No, he was not. Your father wasn't either,"
"Well, what does that mean?" I demanded.
"That they're who is best for their roles." she shrugged. "There's nothing I can say that would explain it any more than this, I don't know anything else about it all, really."
"So this Daphne, she doesn't know me?" my chin wobbled as I asked her. The thought had come into my mind sharply, pulling apart what sense of calm I had kept in place.
"I doubt she does," Granny replied, "However, I think it would be best not to tell her about your predicament,"
"What?" I questioned, furrowing my brows, "Why not?"
"She is seven, liebling, she would be confused and scared. She would be worried for, well, you now, I guess,"
"So I have to lie to her my whole life about who I am?" I was astonished.
"I would think so, yes,"
"How am I supposed to share a room with her if I have to keep a secret this big?"
"We'll build you a new one. For the time being, you can take the hammock in Puck's room. He already knows anyways, and this way he can monitor you in case anything happens."
I did not like that plan. Sharing a room with a little girl who was not my sister was better than this, and that was terrible already. However, I got distracted again by more new information. "Puck already has a room?"
"Yes, he moved in just last week." as an afterthought, Granny decided to inform her of something major, "You are also starting school, tomorrow's your first day."
"Shit," I swore loudly.
"Yeah, that's what I said too when I heard," Puck told me, finally coming out of his horror-induced mini coma.
"No, it's worse than you think. It's-" I shut my mouth suddenly, unable to say anything more.
"Another part of being a changeling, I'm afraid," Relda shook her head, "You cannot reveal the future unless someone guesses it. Otherwise, terrible things would happen."
"But they're going to happen now, if I don't tell you," I argued, "That's so dumb,"
"School is worse," Puck sympathized, and I slumped in my chair. The day an immortal eleven-year-old boy agreed with me was the day my life changed.
I'm still not sure if it was for the better. I could've potentially grown up to be a lawyer, or architect, a businesswoman, anyone or anything I could've been in the 2030s, which is when I would've finished university. I could've been anyone there. Here, I'm stuck. Don't take me wrong, I very much love the Grimms, they're my family, but sometimes I wonder and those thoughts are a dark and quick way to losing my sanity. Thankfully, it does not happen too often.
It was about ten at night when I had woken up, apparently going to bed at six in the morning does that to a person. The night before, Sabrina and Daphne had gone out with Relda to stalk Gheppeto's toy store and captured several lilliputians who had been targeting the old man. I felt bad for him, really, but a preteen girl needs her sleep!
My body was awake, having slept for sixteen hours straight did that to it. My mind, however, was exceptionally tired, so when a little girl tumbled down the stairs and straight into me, I fell.
Long, chocolate-brown hair filled my vision, and I saw stars. Groaning, someone small rolled off my chest and instead onto my arm. "You're clumsy today,"
"I'm clumsy?" I mumbled back, "You're the one who fell on me-"
"Old Lady, Marshmallow make a pancake out of Grimm!" I had heard Puck cackle as he zoomed away, and my exceptionally tired mind struggled to piece the thoughts together. Marshmallow… Daphne.
I sat up as quickly as my spinning head allowed, grimacing as my vision swam. I pressed a hand to my temple and opened one eye, seeing a little girl sitting on her hunches on my right. She was looking at me in concern, "'Brina, you okay?"
"Yeah Daph, I'm fine," I stumbled out, too casually. "I'm tired, goodnight Granny!" screeching the last part, I ran up the stairs and stopped dead in the hallway.
Which door had belonged to Puck?
