Chapter | Aberrations and Revelations | One

Behind the wheel of my Ford Focus, I drove at an aggressive and overwhelming speed. There was no intended destination in my distraught mind, only a definitive purpose that propelled me to slam my foot down harder, accelerate faster, to get away now.

Lights blurred past me in streams of neon. Yellow, blue, red, orange, green, purple: all disturbing my sight as I raced through and out of the city limits. I passed the sign too fast to read it. I didn't need to, having already known what it said. "Welcome to Chicago". It was at this point in time that the tears streamed down my freckled cheeks, my face twisting into an expression of intense anguish.

Trees gradually started to crowd the road as the lights disappeared. My car crashed through a pile of dead leaves, a funnel of dull colors swirling around and hitting my window shield. The leaves darkened, becoming damp from the snow that steadily started to increase in amount.

The longer I drove the harder it became to see. The illuminated guide lines began to blur, appearing every which way after blinking my eyes to rid them of the tears. No matter how much my rational thoughts shouted at me to "be sensible and pull the damn car over", I was inconvincible and inconsolable. Nothing could stop me, or the images and words that threatened to break me down.

My eyes drifted to the passenger seat were my purse was hazardously thrown when I had jump into my car. Half the contents were shown about the seat, including my phone that glowed bright from all the messages I've received and haven't answered. But it wasn't the phone I focused on; it was my wallet that lay open on a picture of my grandma.

A younger version of me was watering the plants in her greenhouse while she stood behind me, sneaking a small stem of lilacs into my hair. My face looked mildly startled by the sudden touch, but Grams was smiling, amusement dancing in her bright eyes. Staring at this picture, I wished that life was as simple as it used to be then, but even more than that I wished I could be someone else. Someone strong who knows how to handle the hardships life throws at them instead of running away like a coward. Someone who is responsible and does what is right not because they know they should but because they truly want to do the right thing. Someone, anyone, but me.

But at least I finally had a destination. It would be a long flight and I wouldn't have much money left after buying the ticket, but I knew Grams would welcome me with open arms, no questions asked. I would be going somewhere that held only happy memories for me instead of all the painful ones I received while living in Chicago. With that thought I could already feel the ache in my heart lessen and my mind become a little clearer.

And then suddenly I came back to myself entirely, realizing that I had become lost on an unfamiliar dirt road, going 60 mph. My breath hitched and I quickly decelerated, now fully comprehending the danger I stupidly put myself in by driving in such a wretched emotional state. I only just caught the turn sign, completely missing what the advisory speed was, when my car abruptly dipped low into the road, slushy mud from the snow splashing all over my windshield. Not knowing where the turn began I slammed on the brakes without thinking, but it was too late.

Tires grind loudly against the dirt, metal groans as the front end crumples into folds upon impact with the tree, the windshield shatters into tiny, deadly pieces of glass, and pain, unbearable pain explodes throughout my body as it slams forward with such brute force, colliding into the airbag. There isn't even a second to think before the immense agony thrusts my world in the dark.

I woke up with a start, gasping for air, only to find out that I didn't need it. I was breathing just fine. My eyes blinked rapidly, trying to rid the fogginess from sleep. As soon as my sight had cleared I looked myself over, not finding a scratch on me. My gaze then moved up and around, taking in the rows of people lounging back in the chairs one would find on a plane.

It was just a dream then. I leaned back with a sigh of relief. The pain was gone- no- it was fake, it wasn't real. It didn't happen. Just a dream.

Letting out another sigh, I ran my fingers through my hair, and before I could start questioning myself about when and how I got on the plane, I winced as my palm brushed against my right eyebrow.

"Oh, you're awake now." The voice startled me. I looked to my right were an older woman, maybe in her mid-fifties, looked me over with a concerned expression. "That was some nasty fall you took, dear." She elaborated at seeing the confusion on my face. "You've been knocked out for an hour now. You tripped out of nowhere coming back from the bathroom, head thumping against the corner of your seat quite painfully. Those are some terrible left feet you have there, sweetie," she said, her face full of sympathy. She then began to explain the short lived worry of the passengers at my fall. A few people began crowding around me, until finally a flight attendant showed up and calmed everyone down, declaring it a simple cut and that I would wake up any minute.

I rubbed the small Band-Aid gently. "I suppose that's why I don't remember getting to the airport or on the plane," I mumbled, some of my confusion clearing up. Though, I found it seriously pathetic that I tripped over nothing and got knocked out of it for nearly an hour. That definitely does not sound like something I'd do.

The lady gave me a small smile. "Look on the bright side, dear. We're half way closer to landing in Seattle, and at least you didn't have to be awake during all that turbulence. I never liked flying."

A flight attendant appeared a minute later, offering me bottled water and asking if I was okay. I reassured her I was fine and thanked her for the much needed water. My mouth was really dry after waking up.

The scar on my forehead started to throb. It made me realize that I never got a look at it myself to judge how bad it is. I wasn't worried about my appearance; I was worried about Grams thinking someone physically hurt me. I don't plan on telling her why I left home in such a rush and I know she'll give me space and not ask about it, but if she even believes for a second that someone might have raised their hand at me I'd have to spill the entire story. When Grams wants to know something, she'll figure it out at any cost.

I quietly excused myself from the old lady's conversation to go to the bathroom. She had introduced herself as Deborah Crothers and promptly began talking about her reason for moving back to Washington. I nodded and commented on certain things she said. Only half of what she talked about interested me, but I still politely listened instead of tuned her out. I was grateful for how nice she treated me after bumping my head. I'm not quite sure what I would have done if I had woken up next to someone that yelled and treated me rudely. The last few days have been so rough that I doubt I could have dealt with it.

"Oh! Well, if you got to go don't let me keep you here. I know I let my mouth get away from me sometimes," Deborah said, smiling as she ushered me out of my seat.

I gave her a weak smile in return. As soon as I stood I realized I really did need to go and walked a little faster to the bathroom, but after almost tripping again I slowed down. Don't want another mishap and then forget the three hour bus ride all the way to Grams house. Now that I think about it though...

If there is one thing I really hate about flying, it's how small the bathrooms are. I bumped my elbow against the wall twice trying to pull my pants up and jabbed my hip into the corner of the sink when washing my hands. Either hitting my head put me off balance or I've suddenly been cursed with a clumsy body.

Shaking the thought out my head, I looked into the mirror to access the damage to my forehead- only to have a startled squeal make its way through my throat. I jumped back from the mirror, my back slamming into the wall roughly.

A girl my age stared at me. Her skin was pale and she had a long dark brown hair that framed her heart-shaped face. Brown eyes flickered every which way, alarmed and frightened as she looked me over.

It took half a minute to realize that I was the only one in the room. Five seconds to realize this girl was me.

I let out a scream.

Not a moment later there was a loud knock against the door. A voice spoke on the other side, saying things I couldn't hear or understand. The only thing running through my head is this is not my body.

Why do I look like this?

What happened to me?

This is not my body!

I was in hysterics, my breathing so erratic that I was sure my heart might stop. This isn't possible. This can't be happening. What do I do, what do I do?

The voice was there again, sounding worried this time. A split-second thought crossed my mind, one that told me the voice was coming from one of the flight attendants that worked on the plane.

Plane.

With that single thought, I forced myself to calm down. The rational part of me came back, telling me that I was on a plane and that screaming was one of the last possible things you should do while on one. It would start a panic much worse than what I'm going through.

There was another bang on the door. "Miss, are you alright?"

I took a deep breath and then another one before answering in a shaky voice. "I'm f-fine." And knowing they wouldn't believe it unless I came out, I opened the door slowly. "I'm fine," I repeated, my voice a little more steady this time.

The flight attendant, who I realized was the one that gave me the bottled water, looked me over with a skeptical eye. "Could you please tell me why you screamed, Miss?"

I racked my brain for some type of logical explanation to use for this situation. Finally, I came up with the best excuse I could think of. "I am really sorry for the disturbance," I told her quietly feeling my cheeks heat up. It would be in my best interest to come off as innocently as possible. "I guess I'm not feeling better like I thought. I got dizzy for a second and fell over and my elbow hit the sink." Looking at my elbow now, I almost sighed in relief. A bruise was starting to form there, making my story sound more legit. I glanced at her with a shy and embarrassed expression on my face. "I have a really low tolerance for pain," I lied, and then looked down at my feet.

The woman sighed softly. "That explains why you passed out earlier, huh? Even I couldn't believe you got knocked out from such a simple hit to the head."

Mildly insulted, I took a deep breath to prevent myself form saying anything and ignored her comment. But then I remembered that I wasn't the one that stupidly tripped. It was the girl whose body I took over.

Not my body.

Panic started to overcome me again and I quickly forced it to the back of my mind. Just don't think about it, wait until you're off the plane. I was lucky only one flight attendant showed up. I must not have screamed as loud as my ears seemed to have heard it.

I guess I had let my emotions show across my face for a second, because she was now looking at me with sympathy.

"Come on. Why don't I give you some aspirin and you can lie down and relax for the rest of the flight?"

I nodded; knowing that if I refused more people would get involved, not to mention sleep would help me forget for a short while. And who knows, maybe I'll wake up and it will all be a dream?

It wasn't a dream. In all honesty I didn't think it would be. I've always had a clear sense of reality. This was obviously reality, despite how impossible it all seemed.

A part of me still couldn't accept it, even after pinching myself a thousand times. I can't even begin to understand how this happened, how it's possible. I mean, this practically defies all laws of science. And I wasn't even going to get started on the possibility of magic. I haven't believed in that crap since I was ten.

I sighed and leaned back in my seat. I had woken up a few minutes ago to find I still wasn't back in my own body. This time it didn't take till looking into the mirror to realize. One glance at my hands and I knew they weren't mine. I don't know how I didn't see it before.

My mother used to describe my hands as 'feminine' because I had long fingers and thin long nails, instead of flat nails bitten down to tiny stubs like this girls were. I couldn't be caught dead with nails like these, not without an exhausting lecture from my mom. But I didn't want to think of her, not even while in another body were all my other troubles no longer seemed to matter anymore.

On her pointer finger was a ring too. I hated wearing them and not just because one got stuck on my finger for a week when I was a kid and my siblings told me I would have to cut my finger off to get rid of it. I find them uncomfortable and restricting and even though while in this body I didn't have the same feeling physically, I still did mentally. The ring was abruptly taken off and stuffed in my pocket.

Deborah had given me a questioning look at the action, but didn't comment on it. Instead she started up an entirely different conversation. I didn't listen at all this time, too worried about what would happen when this plane landed. I would have nowhere to go. Since this girl was originally landing in Seattle before I took over her body, and since Seattle was luckily or coincidentally the airport I would have to land at when going to see my Grams, I thought of heading to Forks to convince her that it was me. She would believe be- I mean, she had to, right? A small part of me was afraid that she would think I was crazy. And if she did believe me, what would I do then? I couldn't stay with the chance that people might think this girl went missing and they'd started searching for her.

Did this girl even have a family? Was she on this plane to go to see them? I didn't want to think about it, my situation only seemed more real when I did. But if she did have family then I would have somewhere to go until I figured out how to switch back. I wouldn't be off alone living on the streets for who knows how long.

I also had no idea how old this girl was. She looked my age; I would be eighteen soon. Despite how eerily mature she looked for a teenager she could possibly be under age, which would make it difficult if I had to go off on my own in the worst case scenario. I know I could do it, live on my own that is. Spending half my life growing up in Chicago taught me that you could get away with being on your own. Not to say it wouldn't be hard, but...

Taking a deep breath for the hundredth time in the last hour, I forced myself to calm down and just let things happen. I needed to deal with this one step at a time, all this worry and planning are useless at the moment when I still have no idea what's going on. Maybe something will happen when the plane lands and I can start a plan based off that. This girl obviously had a destination in mind and I'm sure someone has to be waiting for her.

With nothing else to think about, however, my mind started drifting to the 'how' of my situation again. I stopped it before I could start coming up with anything. There is too much on my plate to begin with, I just needed to wait until I was somewhere I could settle down and be by myself to think. I was afraid that if I dwelled on it now with all these people around I might have another break down even worse than earlier. I might stupidly let it slip that I've taken over another girl's body and everyone will label me off as insane and send me to a psych ward. Lying may come easy to me, but so does slip of the tongue.

All too soon, the plane finally reached its descend onto the landing strip. Deborah gripped the armrest tightly and I tried to comfort her best I could, finding it ridiculous how I was comforting someone else when I was the one with all this mind-shattering conflict jumbling around in my head. But no one could know that...

A flight attendant declared it time to depart from the plane and everyone stood up and made their way to the door. Deborah stood a few seconds after, noticing that I wasn't going to leave first. She reached up into the compartment above our heads and grabbed a bag that she slung over her shoulder and then reached up to pull another one out. She held the carry-on out in front of me and after a split-second it occurred to me that it must be the girl's. I took it with a murmured 'thanks', realizing that it would have been left there if she hadn't handed it to me. If I had known it was there earlier I could have looked for some type of identification. I resisted the urge to slap myself in the face.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, dear," said Deborah, another smile on her gradually wrinkling face. "I hope you feel better. Be more careful in the future."

I waved. "It was nice meeting you too. Goodbye."

Once she walked away I unzipped the bag and searched for a wallet or a phone. To my immense dread, the girl did not have a phone. What type of teenage girl didn't have a cell phone? That could have come in handy. Luckily, she did have a wallet, a modest one that folded up instead of clasped together like mine. I couldn't resist looking at her money first. She had quite a large amount and it made me wonder if she had a job at all. Shaking my head at how stupid I was being, I quickly went on searching through her cards and pulled out a driver's license.

Isabella Marie Swan.

I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. This was the girl's name. She was born on September 13, 1987. She is 5'4'' and weighs 110lb. She has brown hair and brown eyes. She lives in Phoenix, Arizona... but she does not live in her own body. And it occurred to me for the first time after I finally stopped worrying about myself for a moment. Cold dread rushed through me.

Where is Isabella Marie Swan?

"Ma'am, it's time to get off the plane."

I looked up into the face of a male flight attendant, taking in his words. "Yeah, of course." Slowly, I zipped the bag back up and carried it with me down the emptying aisle.

My mood had plummeted after the revelation I had mere seconds ago. I refused to believe that Isabella's mind and my body were gone. There had to be a way to fix this all. There had to be...

I watched my steps down the stairs, not quite trusting this knew body's movements or ability to withstand simple pains, pains that I could easily brush off as nothing in my own body. As soon as I reached the ground, my eyes swept the area, wondering what to do next. I suppose I could just stand here until someone recognized me.

"Bella!"

On second thought, maybe I should just start walking instead. I was getting uncomfortable standing around waiting and to be honest, I really needed to sit down. I still couldn't shake the feeling of mild nausea and unease.

"It's good to see you, Bells," an older man said out of nowhere. I hadn't seen him walk up to me. He gave me an awkward one-armed hug as I stood there frozen. I snapped out of it, realizing this man recognized me. But he called me Bella right? Isabella... guess it was a nickname then.

He stepped back, smiling at me. I noticed that he wore a police uniform. On the left breast in capital letters was C. Swan. I could only guess he's Bella's father, his similar appearance to her backing up my assumption. My eyes then drifted over to the badge on his right. So he was Chief of police in Forks. Forks? Really? What are the chances I would have some type of connection to this girl? Even if it was only our destination.

His eyes briefly took in the bandage on my head but thankfully he didn't saying anything. Again, the feeling that this Bella gets hurt on a daily basis came back to me. "You haven't changed much. How's Renee?" he asked.

My eyes widened slightly. Renee, who was Renee? Afraid that I had stalled too long, I gave him a random answer. "She's good." I realized here and now I'm probably going to be put in a lot of these situations. There are too many things I don't know about this girl's life, things I probably will never know. I guess it's too late to back out of this idea now however.

"That's good," was all he said. Though it was hard to tell, I could see he wanted to ask more, but resisted. It made me wonder who she was. "Well, it's a long ride back to Forks. Ready to get going?"

We went to get the rest of Bella's luggage, luggage I didn't even know she had. There were only a few bags, but enough that made me wonder if Bella had been away for a while or if she was moving. Moving to live with her Dad it seems. Maybe Renee is her mother and her parents are divorced? Either way, I considered myself lucky that each bag had her name on them in big letters because I wouldn't have been able to recognize them.

We made our way to the parking lot. Bella's dad- I wish I knew his first name- put the bags in the trunk before sitting in the driver's seat. I let out a short laugh as I sat up front, amused by the fact that this would be my first time in a police car without sitting in the back seat. He looked at me questioningly, but only smiled in return. He seemed very happy to see me- I mean Bella. Has he not seen her awhile?

I wanted to say something, anything. Here I was with this girl's father, who is so happy to see his daughter for I don't know how long, and she isn't even here. It's not right.

"So, um, how have you been?" I decided to ask, feeling like it was a fairly easy question to put out there.

"I've been doing good," he answered briefly. We pulled out on the highway when he glanced at me, obviously wanting to say something more, but hesitated and looked away. I didn't ask him about it and instead looked out the window. After a few more seconds he spoke up again, looking uncomfortable as he watched the road. "Look, Bella, I'm real happy you decided to move in with me. I know Forks isn't exactly your favorite place in the world, but I'm sure you'll like it. I've already enrolled you for school tomorrow. I even got you a car so you'd be able to drive to school by yourself."

"You got me a car?" Wow, I wonder if Bella knows how lucky she is to have Chief Swan as a dad. My father would never do anything like this, my mother wouldn't let him. I had to buy my own car and pay for my own insurance in order to teach myself 'responsibility'. Michelle and Nate never had to do that… I shook my head, knowing that none of that matters at this point in time, and locked the bitterness away.

He nodded, suddenly looking unsure. "It's a truck actually. A Chevy."

His attitude was confusing. What was wrong with a truck? Did Bella not like them or what?

"What's the matter, then? Is it old or something?" I asked, not finding the problem.

Chief Swan face looked mildly sheepish. "It's got to be late fifties at the most, I think." He continued, trying to reassure me. "Don't worry though, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine and it runs great. He's in a wheelchair now, so he offered to sell it to me cheap."

He looked at me, hoping I was okay with it. I had no problem with it; this would definitely be convenient for me in the off chance that I had to go somewhere alone to find a way to get my body back. Besides, this wasn't even my gift. I couldn't complain if I wanted to.

"Thanks. This means a lot," I said, hoping Bella would feel the same way. He looked relieved.

The ride to Forks was really long. Fortunately, it wasn't awkward, though it did go by in somewhat of a daze. It didn't take a genius to tell that Chief Swan wasn't a talkative person nor was he emotionally expressive. But he didn't push me into long-winded conversations and for that I was grateful. I just wanted to think.

But for all my thinking, I couldn't come up with one answer to my problem. That only seemed to depress me and acting depressed in front of a father who was so thrilled to have his daughter around wouldn't exactly go well. So as soon as we pulled onto a rural road, I let my eyes drink in the sight and forget about my worries at the moment.

Washington was absolutely beautiful. I can't possibly count the times I begged my parents to let me go stay with Grams when I was a kid. The peaceful atmosphere was welcoming and always lifted my spirits. The trees stood tall and majestic as they towered over us with their lush green leaves. Moss, ferns, and other cryptogams covered every surface along with a wide variety of other plants that, despite how much Grams taught me due to her love of botany, I wouldn't be able to name half of.

My eyes started to droop shut at the passing scenery and it wasn't until Chief Swan gently shook my shoulder that I realized I had dozed off at some point.

"Bells, we're here."

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, watching as we pulled into the driveway of a small white two-story house. Parked on the side of the street was the vehicle. The truck was a beast. I was torn between hating it due to is old rusty red and bulbous exterior and loving it because it reminded me of the old shiny 1954 Ford F100 that was my grandpa Jack's pride and joy. But then I forced myself to remember that my opinion didn't matter, that Bella was going to like it anyway because I didn't have the heart to tell her father otherwise.

"That's the truck? It's great, I love it! Thank you!" I exclaimed with fake enthusiasm.

Chief Swan rubbed the back of his neck embarrassingly as we got out of the police cruiser. "You're welcome."

I let Chief Swan walk a head of me with a few of my bags, knowing when I got in the house I would have no idea where anything was. I followed him upstairs where he stepped into the room facing the front yard, setting the bags on the bed. I took a second to glance around the room, noticing how modest it was with its light blue walls, yellow curtains, and rocking chair in the corner. I instantly cringed when I saw the old computer on the desk, guessing that it was probably dial up too.

My creative side automatically started coming up with ways to improve the room, but I shook it out of my mind, once again forcing myself to remember that I had no right to change what wasn't really mine, no matter how long I'll be stuck like this.

Chief Swan went down stairs so I could unpack, asking if I wanted pizza for dinner. I nodded and he went on his way silently. Slowly, I shut the door and went to sit on the bed, falling onto my back with a huff.

I was finally alone now, after hours of waiting around, trying to hold down the panic that threatened to put me in tears. There is only so long a person can keep calm in a situation like this and I knew that I was at the end of mine.

After a few seconds of looking up at the slanted ceiling I burst into tears. My sobs shook my entire body as I gripped a pillow tightly against my chest, looking for comfort I will never get from another human being. Because I knew no one could ever know about me and I would never tell anyone. No one would believe me. I'd probably be sent to a psych ward if I ever told anyone. I was on my own and I think that's what terrified me the most. Not just that I was in someone else's body wondering what happened to my own or to Bella for that matter.

I spent two hours crying my eyes out, the bags untouched the entire time.

Reluctantly, I sat up and started sifting through them, realizing I needed to settle down before Chief Swan called me down for dinner. Crying about my problem wasn't going to change anything and I was happy it occurred to me now instead of later.

Folding all the clothes and putting them in the pine dresser, I decided I would just get through today without thinking about it. Tomorrow after school I could start figuring out what to do. Today I was just too exhausted, mentally and physically.

A loud growl rumbled in my stomach. I hadn't realized I was hungry, but now that I thought about it some food in my stomach and a long rest was exactly what I wanted- needed. Quickly, I put the rest of Bella's things away, even courageously leaving the room to open the two different doors in search of the bathroom- which ended up being the one directly in front of the stairs- so I could put her products in the correct spot.

Tip-toeing my way down stairs, I watched as Chief Swan shut the front door, turning around with a box a pizza in his hands. He looked up and saw me. "Just in time. I was going to call you down. Ready to eat?"

I nodded and helped clear the table off from all the stacks of paper. Picking up some of his mail, I took a second to find out what his first name is, no longer wanting to call him Chief Swan in my head all the time. Charlie was it? I wondered just now if I happened to remember his name from all the visits to Grams house, but I drew a blank. Shrugging, I put the mail on the countertop and grabbed the plate Charlie offered me.

We ate in relative silence, once and a while asking each other questions. A lot of them I couldn't really answer, so I'd give him whatever believable lie I could come up with. I had to constantly swallow the guilt that would rise up in me every time I did, trying to put it in my head that it wasn't my fault I had to lie. Still, I felt bad about the lies, whether he knew they were or not.

Twenty minutes later I excused myself, telling Charlie I was tired and wanted to go to bed early.

"Goodnight, Bells."

"'Night, Dad," I said, brushing way the strange feeling when calling him that.

I woke up in a start later that night, around two o'clock, holding back a scream. Sweat covered every inch of my body, making my pajamas stick to me uncomfortably. I kicked off my covers and sat up, taking deep breaths to calm my irregular breathing and thumping heart.

A vision flashed through my head. A road. Snow. Window wipers ferociously moving back and forth.

My head hurt, but I forced the images from my dream to the front of my mind, needing to know what it was all about.

There was a loud squealing sound, grinding of metal... and pain.

My eyes widened in shock. That dream I had before waking up on the plane, it wasn't just a dream, was it? It was real. It really happened.

I was in accident.

And for all I knew... Scarlette Rivers could be dead.

And that concludes the first chapter! I really hope you all like it, I've actually spent a lot of time thinking up ideas for this story. Just to clear one thing up in case someone didn't catch on to it, this isn't a self-insert. The book of Twilight doesn't exist in my story.

Originally, I wasn't going to post it, but after watching Breaking Dawn Part 2 in the theater, I felt inspired to continue. I don't know about you guys, but that movie really went above my expectations. The movies just never hit it off for me, but this last one was actually really good. What did you guys think of it?

Even more importantly though, I would really like everyone's opinion on my story. Like every other author, I don't really want to keep writing it if no one really cares to read it. I think we can all agree that it's a lot easier and faster to review with the new changes to the site, so it only takes a second to type what you think. Though I would really appreciate it if people could post longer reviews about what I could do to make it even better, etc.

Oh, and this will be the first and only time I will say this; I do not own The Twilight Saga, that belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I never understood why people continuously mention it in every chapter. It's not like someone is suddenly going to think you came up with it if you don't mention the disclaimer every time. So yeah, I think saying it once is enough, as long as you give credit where it's due.

Well, that's it I suppose. I have the next chapter written, I just need to spend a little more time revising it. I really hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! Thank you for reading!