1d dream life adventure

sara lilly louse raven is an ordinary girl.... until she MEETS ONE DIRECTION!!!!!!! this is the story that changed her life

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2. Down the Rabbit Hole

Beep-beep.

That is the first sound I hear: the alarm of despair as my half-awake consciousness dubs it. At this point, I naively believe it to be just another day. So, as per any other goddamn school day in existence, I get out of bed, shower, wash, and dress myself. All in all, it takes around half an hour. New record.

This is where things begin to get screwy. As I tie up my shoelaces, I glance at the clock. 07:30. Exactly. And I woke up at seven on the dot, down to the precise milliseconds. You know, like that's not odd as hell or anything. Those kind of precise timings exist only in poorly written fanfics; I'd know, my friend Kath practically spawns them all the time. But to each their own. After all, my personal favourite thing to do is to openly engage in Twitter wars with rabid fangirls. 

And to add to the unusualness of the day, my phone goes off. Not so unusual. I turn it on, finding a text. Received at 07:35. Again with the creepy times. Anyway, I still find the strength to read it.

hey <3 morning lucky girl <3 ;)

What. The. Hell. The sender is anonymous, which is weird enough, but the message is downright creepy. Probably one of those assholes at school fucking with me. Or a spam thing. Nothing to really care about. Message deleted.

With that out of the way, downstairs I go. I'm met with the smell of bacon. I freeze. We never have bacon. Never. It's always a half-assed bowl of cereal before I'm thrown out of the door for school. But Dad just probably found it or something; our freezer is an endless abyss of culinary delights.

So then, the only thing left to do is open the door, right? And that's just what I do. After the cloud of smoke dissipates, I take in the sight. My father at the grill. My mother reading the paper. My brother, two years older than me, on his phone. And then I see the figure at the table. His mouth opens, and from them in the worst English accent imaginable pour the words that throw my entire existence into question.

"Morning love."

"Well, fuck me sideways," is my response.

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