Unspoken Unbroken

The old and the new

I wake up on the floor and the first thing I feel is a throbbing pain in my head.

Did I go out yesterday?

 I shift my weight to my elbows and look around to see that I'm still in my apartment. That means that did not go to the club, otherwise I wouldn't be here. 

 I stand up and almost lose my balance in the process doing so. 

 If I did not go clubbing, what did happen yesterday? There was something strange, something really bright.

" Something...something whit a book" I mumble to myself trying to recall yesterday. 

Although I can't remember much of what happened yesterday, something in me tells me to search for a book. When I look to my left I see a whole closet of books, but none of them stand out to me. 

It's probably nothing...

I brush the weird feeling off and walk to my bedroom.
As I open the door, expecting to find my own room. Instead I'm greeted by a gorgeous room that certainly does not look like mine.

Am I in the right house?

 
The open window catches my attention. When I reach it, I find myself , to my surprise looking at my own street.

Exept it's not in my time.

The bakery from across looks like it came out off the 19th century. The street below is not filled whit modern cars, like I'd expect, instead I see the old car models. I mean I love them, don't get me wrong, but I believe we are past those and almost no-one drives them anymore.

Heck I don't even know if they still work.

I spot the street name above the pharmacy, and it confirms that this is indeed my street. So it has to be my house right?

I tear myself away from the window and look around hoping to find some more signs that confirm that this is my apartment. 

To my surprise I find stairs in my apartment. Last time I checked, I owned an apartment and not a penthouse. So I'm prety sure that my apartment didn't have stairs inside. 

I make my way down the stairs and find a kitchen, a large kitchen. Damm did I get some free upgrades?

When I look to my right, I see a document laying on the kitchen countertop. My name is writen on the document in big fancy letters. Just to be sure I take a second glance at the paper, and see that it's a contract of the apartment. So if my name is on the contract, and the contract is from the appartment, that means that I'm the owner of this appartment.

I've always wanted a big house, and finding something large with an affordable price in the hart of New York, is like finding a neede in a haysack. To sum it up, basically impossible.

I head back upstairs and walk into the bedroom. In the corner of the room is a door. I open it to reveal a spacious walk-in closet filled with clothes of all kinds. But my attention goes straight to the dresses. Blue dresses, pink dresses, big dresses, and small dresses hang neatly along one wall, standing out among everything else.

Oh my god, I am living my princess dream. After much hesitation i decide to put on a baby blue dress.