Odd Balls

Chapter 2

"Ugh, where am I?" I grumbled, pressing the heels of my palms to my temples; a warm glow coming from the fairy lights that were hung up all over the room. 'Strange, I don't remember hanging those up. Around the room, in the warm yellowish glow, I spotted lots and lots of Polaroid photos pasted on the wall where my table was. Polaroid photo that I've taken along with someone that even from far, far away, I could recognize her. "Is that Chelsea?" I mumbled, getting up and going over for a closer look.

In one of the pictures, there we were, both of our faces caked with make-up, holding glasses of wine while dancing in what seems to be your typical high school party. There are a few things you need to know that clearly shows that that girl in the picture clearly wasn't me:

1 I will NEVER EVER be able to hang out with Chelsea. Not that I want to.

2I don't drink, neither do I intend to.

3I've never been invited to any high school party and finally,

4My hair isn't brown. It's auburn, maybe even orangey ginger.

Or at least, so I thought.

*

There was an open compact mirror sitting on the table and as soon as I glanced into it, I felt myself going weak in the knees. 'What's going on? Why is my hair brown?' The girl staring back at me, with brown hair strewn all over her face, some strands caught in her mouth, had an equally terrified expression on her face. I instantly threw the compact mirror back onto the table, without giving it a second glance. 'Maybe I'm just sick and the fever's messing with my head. Yes.' I reassured myself as I crawled back under the unfamiliar covers. "It's all just one fever driven hallucination."

Minutes passed before I finally woke up from my dream land; all of my hopes were pinned on me waking u from that crazy dream. Unfortunately for me, I didn't. I surveyed my surroundings one more time, my heart palpitating faster as I desperately searched for a logical conclusion. So far, nothing came to mind. 'Damn it! Now what do I do?' I thought to myself. The pink digital numbers on the clock read 6.30 am, Friday, January 12. 'It's a school day. Maybe if I can reunite myself with my friends, then maybe things won't be so bad after all and I'll get some clue as to what's going on.' I pushed myself out of bed and went towards the closet, only to look at it in shock. All of my clothes had changed. Instead of graphic tees, sweaters, shorts, jeans, the occasional skirt or two and less girly stuff, in its place were miniskirts, dresses, crop tops, tanks and basically every single girly item in the world.

"What the actual heck? Who am I?" I exclaimed, confused. Things were getting stranger by the minute. Thankfully, I found a pair of ripped jeans, a cropped striped sweater and a hat, so that settled all but one problem. How do I wear killer heels and master walking in them in the next ten minutes or so?

*

Reader, when I said that things were getting stranger by the minute, I do hope you were taking me seriously. Turns out, there’s more to this crazy place than I thought. After I’d finally found a pair of sneakers to wear, I rushed down stairs with my bag and valuables in hand, only to discover that I was in a mansion and not my usual old house. Everything looked like it came out of a catalogue: Rich people’s edition. To start it all off, there was a black spiral staircase that ended off with marble tiles, glistening white walls, expensive art work, an even more expensive flat screen television with surround sound and a crystal chandelier becoming the cherry on the cake. The place was practically spotless and devoid of memories; Instead in its place was cold hard stacks of cash, its back story unknown. I gulped nervously as I slowly walked down the stairs, the chill of the metal banister biting into my skin. Everything was so foreign. Then I stopped, the sound of giggles sending shivers down my spine. That sound. Where have I heard it before? It can’t be. Right? Curiosity compelled me to press on.