IMPORTANT A/N: I need someone to do me a favor: If you can write song lyrics, please tell me. If you want Found Again to continue, please - please - contact me if you know you can, or think you can, write song lyrics. Pshh, I sure can't.

Thank you.

I looked around. I wasn't in the middle of the street anymore. No, I was somewhere else. I just didn't know where . . .

Was I home?

It sure didn't look like home. Or did it always look like this? At least that's what I thought until I herd a baby cry. So I knew I didn't live there. But that just made me even more confused. How on earth did I get here?

I followed the noise. When the crying got louder, I stopped, and peeked through the inch opened door. I saw a woman sitting on a rocking chair with her baby. She looked pale and wide eyed, but strangely familiar.

The phone rang. Eagerly, she picked it up and said, "Hello?" A few seconds later her breath sounded uneven. "What do you want?" she cried. "What did you ever want from me? Please, would you just leave us alone. He doesn't have anything to do with this." Tears ran down her cheeks.

"No, please. He doesn't deserve this. . . .What about Jason? You can't just keep doing this..." She started crying even harder. "YOU IDIOT!" She yelled into the phone, then she hung up.

The woman looked so familiar, I just couldn't tell who she was . . .

"I HATE HIM!" She yelled, throwing the phone toward the mirror in front of her. SMASH! Pieces of glass fell everywhere. She kept staring at the broken mirror. Her face expressionless.

I took a better look at her face. I nearly gasped when I realized who she was.

She was me.

That was me? And is that MY BABY? No way. I couldn't believe it. I shook my head and thought, no, she can't be me. She just looks like me, a little. No way is that woman me! I can't believe I even thought that! I mean, that's impossible. She isn't me. Just because she kind of looks like me doesn't mean she is me. Another reason she can't be me is because I'M RIGHT HERE. I don't have a twin. And I'm not old, like she is, yet.

Right. So, she isn't me.

I went out of there as fast as I could. Luckily, there was no else home who saw me run out the door. I ran down the emergency stairs and found the neon red sign that read 'EXIT'.

I pushed the door open and immediately felt a breeze.
It was cold outside. Cotton-white snow covered the ground. There is definitely something wrong here. Since when is it winter? I thought it was spring, not winter.

Another strange thing I noticed was trees. Lots of them. Trees were everywhere. I knew I wasn't in New York anymore. I was somewhere else. But how? I was in New York a minute ago . . . And now I'm somewhere else . . . Maybe I . . .

I felt a whole lot of mixed up emotions at that moment. Confused; about where I was and how I got here. Scared, angry; because I have to walk alone in a place I hardly know! Not to mention ruin my shoes.

Thank God I saw I someone nearby. I don't know how long I was walking up this street (two hours?), but I was ready to collapse. Maybe he can help me, I thought.. But what should I say to him? 'Excuse me, where am I?'

"Hey," I yelled at the man walking down the same street I was walking on. "Can you help me?"

I ran up the street. "Excuse me, sir, can you help me?" I yelled again. The man walking down the street quickly turned right anddisappeared behind the trees.
Gosh, and all I wanted was help. The least he could do was make up some lame excuse about being home late to his wife.

So, I did the only thing I could do. After all, what choice did I have?I ranafter him.

But something strange happened as I ran. It was getting foggy. Which was strange since it wasn't foggy before.The fog grew thicker and thicker, but I still kept running. I looked back; the road and trees were gone. I ran faster; slowly the world around me dissapeared. Then, I couldn't see anything anymore.

"Are you all right?" I herd a deep, concerned voice say.

I opened my eyes andblinked a few times. The first thing I saw was a pair of unfamiliar Gray eyes.
Great, where am I this time? Alaska?

I felt the solid sidewalk underneath me and herd the familiar sound of traffic.

"Here," the man offered me his hand, "let me help you up." I took it and got myself up. I thanked him and asked him where I was, without even thinking. Bad idea, I know, but I still did it anyway.

What? I was just trying to make sure.

"Um." He looked at me like I was crazy. I wouldn't blame him. "New York City? The Big Apple? Or as some people call it The Capital of the World?"

Oh. New York. Ha ha. Wow. I'm back in New York. Can you believe that? Ha ha.

I herd the man -- who I guess is in hisearly 20's, judging by his face -- laugh. " Oh, I get it. That was a joke, right?"

I scowled. "No."

"Oh," he said, dropping his amused tone. "I guess I must of hit you with my car pretty hard then, do you need me to take you to the hospital? I was going to take you there anyway..."

My face softened. "No," I sighed. "I'm alright." Nothing hurt so far. I felt fine. It was weird too, because when you get hit by a car don't you usually get all these bruises and broken bones? But no, I felt fine like I did before.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask you a question then?"

"Sure."

"What were you thinking while you were walking in the middle of the street when the light was still green?" I stared at him, shocked by his change of tone, from 'Are you okay?' to 'What the hell?'. Personally, I liked his first tone better.

"Sorry" was all I could say.

He ran his hand through his dark brown hair. "It's okay. Is there anything I can do for you?"

I smiled at him. "No, I'm good, thanks."

"Are you sure? Because that's what people always say when they get hurt-"

"Trust me," I cut him off. "If I was hurt I would of asked you for your help." Lie. How can I trust a guy I just met? Yeah, exactly.

"You're lying," he said automatically, like he just read my thoughts.

"No I'm not," I argued.

He laughed. "You just asked me 'where am I?' Now that isn't normal." I starting to get annoyed with this guy. Who does he think he is anyway? But he did have a point. That was a stupid question to ask. The guy probably thinks I'm mental now. Oh, my God. Maybe I am? Wasn't it so strange that today I'mcrossing thestreet, getting hit by a car, then the next thing I know, I'm somewhere else? I swear, at first I thought I was dead, like in those movies.

Maybe it wasn't real. You know, maybe I was just imagining it.

Then how come my shoes are soaked?

"Sorry," I mumbled. I laughed a little. "I guess you're right, maybe I am mad."

He smiled. "Not completely. So far." I decided to let that one slide. Whatever he meant. I told him I better get going and turned the other way.

"Can I at least offer you a ride home?" he called out. I stopped and turned to face him. "No, sorry. I think I'll just walk. I live near here. But thanks anyway." The guy nodded and walked back to his car.

->->->->->->->->->->->->->

"So," my friend Lilly said, "you got hit by a car yesterday?" She looked like she didn't believe me. Then again, who would?

Lilly eyed my up and down. "You don't look like you got hit by a car to me."

"Yeah, I know," I agreed. "That was the strange part. I wasn't hurt or anything, not even a scratch. I already checked myself last night to make sure."

Lilly looked at me confused. "Well, that's-"

Someone knocked on my office door. "Hello, ladies," my boss, Mr. Dawson, said. "Ms. Moscovitz, may I have talk to Ms. Thermopolis privately?"

Lilly got up. "Sure, no problem."

As soon as she closed the door, Mr. Dawson exclaimed, "THEY'RE HERE!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHO? THE KOPPTO NEWS CREW, THAT'S WHAT!" It was clear that he was panicking. Poor Mr. Dawson. No, let him suffer. After all those times he made me suffer, he deserves it.

I had no idea who this KOPPTO people were, but they sure are a big deal to Mr. Dawson. I wonder why . . .

"They're a news station on channel 28. They came here all the way here from North Carolina.They're joining our station!"

"That's great, Mr. Dawson," I said. "Now we have new p-"

"That is why," he cut me off, "I came to you." Was I hearing this right?

"Why?"

"Show them around the studio," he explained. "Explain how everything works, tells them the things they can and cannot do . . . You know. You should know, who've been here for, what, two years now?" Two painful,Dylan, two painful years. "Now get up. They'll be here in five minutes. Follow me."

I did as I was told and followed him out of my office. We went to the second floor, walked down three hallways, and walked down the stairs to Studio C.

"Now remember," he whispered into my ear. "Be nice. Make them feel a home. . ." He opened the door for me and I went in. I swear, my eyes nearly poped out when I recognized one of the three guys standing in Studio C.

Oh. My. God.

I turned to Mr. Dawson but he already left. Ugh, he'll pay for this later.

"Hello," I greeted them, putting on a my biggest-- fake -- smile. All the guys nodded and said hello. "So," I pointed at the doors behind me, "why don't we start by seeing Studio A?"

"Uh, I thought we were going to see Studio C fist?" one of the guys pointed out.

"Right." I bit my lip. Great, I'm already nervous.I cannot believe I agreed to do this. I also couldn't believe that that guy that hit me with his car last night is here. He's here! I admit, I was a little curious about him.

The guys were already looking around the studio. So this seemed like a good time to ask. I went up to the him and said in a low voice, "Nice to see you again."

He didn't look at me. He looked at the camera equipment instead. "Likewise."

"I'm Mia Thermopolis. Welcome to the crew."

"Jason." He looked a tme carefully as he said his name. "Kirkin."

Meh, I thought this chapter was okay. I haven't written fanfiction in a long time.

For all of you that are confused right about now, I say: I wouldn't blame you. No, actually, you'll see as the plot develops. Just please keep reading, chapter 3 will clear things up for you.

Thanks for the reviews guys!

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