Disclaimer: I do not own The Mr. Men Show or any of its characters, but I do own Emily/Little Miss Music.


As Emily laid there on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, music came through her headphones. But the voice deep in her mind was louder than the song that was playing. It taunted her and mocked her mercilessly. It filled her head with unwanted memories.

Remember your sister-in-law… Remember your uncle and your grandmother… And especially remember what your husband did to you… Remember it all and suffer…

Tears ran down her face as the voice reminded her of everything that happened to her this year. She wished she could have a redo to change the outcome or at the very least go back to prepare herself so that she wouldn't be so depressed and lonely right now.

It had been one heartache after another, not leaving her any time in between to recover before tragedy struck again. At the beginning of the year, her sister-in-law had been murdered by her boyfriend, who went on the run for almost a week before the police finally cornered him in a motel room. Instead of surrendering, he shot himself, probably believing he was dead anyways because of what he did. Emily, her husband, and his family had been devastated, and not long after that, her husband met this girl through his best friend's little brother. They became really close friends fast, and he started helping her around her house to get his mind off his sister's death.

At the time, Emily didn't think much of it, knowing that her husband needed a good distraction because he had gotten really depressed after losing his sister. Besides, around the same time, Emily's uncle had fallen ill, only getting worse until finally he passed away, ending his suffering for good. Even though he has been gone for a few months now, it was still very strange not to see him coming over to help Emily's dad with his truck or to sit on the porch with her parents to gossip about whatever was happening in the family at the time, over a cup of coffee.

Then, right when Emily had been convinced that this year couldn't possibly get any worse, her husband confessed having feelings for Hannah, the girl he had been spending a lot of time with and who just had her ex-boyfriend's baby. Emily wanted her husband to be happy and decided to support a relationship between them while she and her husband were still together. But as she looked back now, she wished she had spoken out sooner and told them how uncomfortable they made her. She had noticed how far apart she and her husband had been growing, but for a bit, she had been distracted when her grandmother suddenly passed away. For a while, she had been having health problems, but Emily expected her to still be around for a bit longer.

Not long after that, Emily and her husband had sat down, and it came out that he didn't love her anymore. He wanted to be with Hannah and her daughter all the time, and even though he didn't say it, Emily knew he meant she was just holding him back from what he always wanted: A family. She had thought he had come to terms with her not wanting kids, but then he found someone else with a daughter who needed a father, and he seemed more than willing to leave Emily to fill that role.

The divorce was still ongoing, but Emily had to move out of the camper that she and her husband had been staying in, and back into her parents' house because her husband failed to keep up with the payments on it like he had promised he'd do so that she would have a place to live. If it hadn't been for her parents, she would be homeless right now, but instead she was settled in her old bedroom, and tonight would be the first time in over three years that she'd be sleeping in the bed that she used to sleep in when she was a teenager. And honestly, she wasn't looking forward to that.

The voice continued to torment her. Remember how he treated you. And think about how you'll never see your uncle or grandmother ever again. Remember…

With a shaky sigh, she pulled up the sleeve of her jacket, and as she stared down at the slowly healing scars, she heard the voice in her head get louder, mocking her and telling her to make new cuts. This year could easily fall under the category of worst years ever, but the only thing that kept her from harming herself was her husband. Now that he was no longer a part of her life, there was nothing stopping her from listening to the voice again like she used to before she met him.

The memories are too painful, she thought, sighing miserably. Getting up, she was about to look for the can lid she used to cut herself with that was hidden in her room. But she froze when she noticed the door opening out of the corner of her eye. Quickly, she yanked her sleeve down again and reached for her phone to pause her music. Then she pushed her glasses up to wipe her tear stained face.

"Are you okay?" her mother asked her.

Emily sat up. "Er… yeah," she stammered.

Her mother didn't look like she believed her, but to Emily's relief, all she said was," Give it to God." Emily nodded absently, wondering if God really did care. Surely if He did, He wouldn't have let any of that stuff happen to her? "I'm going to bed," her mom went on. "Come tell me if you need anything."

Yeah, tell you and everyone else who has also offered the same thing. Emily sighed to herself as she watched her mother leave her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

She only wished everyone would just leave her alone. She wanted to believe they were bugging her because they were worried about her, but the voice in her head made her think they didn't care. For part of the year, she had her husband there to comfort her, but when he left, she had no one. Or so she thought. Ever since they split up, her whole family, her best friend, Nikki, and even Nikki's parents have been repeating over and over again as if they were a broken record that if she needed anything— anything at all— that all she had to do was ask.

And supposedly, I have God too, she thought longingly. But I don't know if that's true…

She wanted to understand that everyone was concerned about her, especially Nikki, who was the only one that knew Emily cut herself. But the voice didn't let her.

You're useless and nobody likes you, it told her constantly.

At this point, Emily has accepted that she wasn't meant to be happy, and she wished everyone else would also realize this and leave her as she was. For a while she had discovered love and had been enjoying life. For the first time in a very long time, the voice in her head wasn't there to taunt her. Then she got a harsh reminder that happiness never lasts. It took three deaths and a devastating breakup to remember something she discovered early in life: Nobody, not even people closest to her, can be trusted.

Then a thought popped into her mind and she remembered what she always turned to when life became too much for her. A show even the voice in her head could never ruin for her. The Mr. Men Show. No matter what just happened, she was never sad while watching her favorite Mr. Men and Little Misses.

She knew society saw it as a show meant only for kids, and whenever she would tell someone her favorite TV show if they asked, they would think she was weird or a child, but she didn't care. It was the only thing left that brought any meaning to her life and it never disappointed her or failed to put a smile on her face, even when she was having the worst possible day. Ever since she first discovered it as a teenager, she's been madly in love with it.

"I wish Dillydale was real," she said aloud. This wasn't the first time she'd had that thought, but she meant it now more than ever before. "I wish all the Mr. Men and Little Misses were real. I mean," she quickly added to herself," I know there's some really annoying characters, but right about now, I'd be happy to even see them in person."

She let out a heavy sigh and closed her eyes, an image of a character forming in her mind. She remembered a term from anime, a name that refers to someone who is older and someone you admire and have strong feelings for. A Senpai. She had a Senpai on The Mr. Men Show. "More than anything," she whispered," I wish Mr. Grumpy was real…"

As if her words were some kind of signal, a flash of light appeared behind her eyelids. She blinked open her eyes and turned her head, gasping at what she saw. Her closet was glowing! The bright light shone through the cracks of the door. A moment later, it faded out, and Emily found herself blinking, dumbfounded.

Stuffing her phone into her pocket, she cautiously rose from her bed and scooted over to her closet. As she hesitated in front of the door, she tried to make sense of all the emotions running through her: Scared yet curious; nervous but excited. Even though it might be dangerous, she still wanted to know what that light was.

As she stood there, fighting her emotions, the voice spoke to her, saying what she was too afraid to even think. It was only your imagination. You're finally going crazy. Still, she didn't want to admit that the voice was right and she didn't want it to ruin this for her, like it ruined everything else in her life.

Ignoring the voice, she worked up enough courage to reach forward and grip tightly onto the knob. She turned it and opened the door. Her eyes went huge. Instead of seeing the back of her closet, like she was half expecting, she found herself staring into a room that had green walls. There was a bed and beside that was a nightstand with a lamp placed on it. A few pictures were hanging up but from where she stood, she could only make out colorful shapes, no clear details.

Suddenly having second thoughts about investigating the mysterious light, Emily started backing up, but after only taking a step or two, she felt an unseen force pulling her forward. As she entered her closet, the world around her shifted for a terrifying moment and she felt a bolt of pain shot through her body. Then she was stumbling into the other room, landing on her hands and knees. She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see the door closing, the light shining once more before fading out again.

Alarm shot through her. She jumped to her feet and flung the door open, expecting to see her bedroom, so she was surprised when instead she found herself looking into a closet that wasn't hers. Several orange shirts hung from a bar, and she reached out to touch them, suddenly feeling a spark of curiosity. But she froze when she noticed something different about herself.

Wide-eyed, she stared down at her arms and hands. "M-My skin," she stammered. "It's red…" Her mind started whirling with so many questions. What was going on? Where was she? What was she? She studied her new body closer and realized that there was something familiar about the way she looked…

She was sure she'd seen something like this before…

But where? She couldn't quite remember…

She was so caught up in the unexpected moment that she couldn't even hear the voice anymore. She was so focused on trying to make sense of everything that she forgot all about what she had been thinking about that was making her so depressed only moments before.

A scream behind her startled her. She spun around and gasped. Someone stood in the doorway of the bedroom, and Emily immediately recognized her as a character from her favorite show. Suddenly everything clicked. She knew exactly where she was; somehow she got transported to the universe of The Mr. Men Show!

But how? she asked herself as she looked down at her arms. Suddenly she realized that her self-induced scars were gone. It was like changing into a Little Miss healed her body. How is any of this possible? She glanced behind her into the closet, but footsteps made her turn back to see Little Miss Calamity slowly approaching her.

The Little Miss looked at her with a mix of fear and curiosity. "Who are you?" she demanded, but before Emily could reply to her first question, she added," And what are you doing in my room?"

Emily lowered her eyes to her feet, noticing for the first time that she was wearing sneakers. She wasn't sure how to answer Little Miss Calamity's questions. Would she believe me if I told her that I'm a human from a world where she and everyone else here are from a cartoon show?

She really doubted it but what else could she say? She could either tell her a story she most likely wouldn't believe or let her continue to think Emily broke into her house.

Emily opened her mouth to explain, but the orange Little Miss didn't let her say a word. She turned to leave. "I'm calling the police," she suddenly said as she headed out of the bedroom.

Emily didn't move at first, numb with shock. Then suddenly it clicked what Little Miss Calamity just said and an alarm went off in her head. "No, wait!" she gasped, running after her.


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