I open my eyes and discover myself in my 12-year-old room, with fleurs decorated all over the roof. Beside me there was a little fleur shaped table, tableau with a vase upon it, of course with fleurs in it. The floor is coverd with fleur shaped pillows and stuffed animales with fleurs as well. Last I remember, I trew all of this as soon as I turned fourteen, because I got tired of it. I get out of lit and look at my fleur shaped clock, 07:52.

This is bad, I run into my bathroom and brush my teeth, wash my face and look at the mirror. A twelve-year-old me is standing there and touching itself on...