This ain't a diary, this is a - mirror?

Chapter 1: 'Diary?' Ha, you wish.

This is the Author here, and I'm writing a message to... you know, to anyone that can read it. In what form this message takes, if you can read it, take it with you. You'll need it.

{{Dear... wait a second.

Alright, first things off, let me make this clear - you're not a prissy little diary where I go on and on about girly things like boyfriends and stuff. Nope. Not at all. Just to make sure of it, I'm not going to call you a diary.

The only reason I'm even paying attention to this little book is because this is the book. It proves that I actually have a power, that I'm not lying about my telepathic connection to the world beyond ours.

You see: I have a theory that we're not the only universe in... you know, in the universe. I can prove that there are other universes out there, not unlike our own. How? As I said before, I can telepathically communicate to one of the living beings in another universe. I've managed to find a particular one that can communicate to me through this book, who calls themselves... the Author. Sounds weird, sounds crazy, but it's true!

... Alright. That didn't make sense at all, did it? Let me backtrack a bit...

I'm Samantha Rowell, and I'm quite obviously a dog. You know, to anyone out there who exists in a different universe where dogs don't exist. I have... uh, how am I going to explain this without making myself look stupid? So, uh, I have really, really pale blue-grey hair... grey, cream and blue fur, and pale purple eyes. I also really like wearing hoodies... I'm quite obviously a girl, but I prefer to be called Sam. Since it's shorter and... less girly. You know, stuff like that.

Okay, Sam. So you're the one communicating to be through this website called - um, never mind.

What?

... Well, more about me and this book. As I said before, I can telepathically communicate to living beings in other universes. Somehow, this being called "The Author" appears to have inhabited my book.

A mirror.

Say what?

This isn't a book. You'll call this a mirror.

A mirror? Why would I want to call this a mirror?! I hate mirrors. I DESPISE mirrors. Why would someone invent a dreaded item that shows you your ugly face EVERY TIME you looked to your left?!

My mirror's on my right. Never mind about that, you will call this a mirror because it... reflects your thoughts. And my thoughts, I suppose.

YOU CAN'T MAKE ME CALL THIS A MIRROR.

Actually, I can. Being the Author, your universe is mine to control.

YEAH, RIGHT?! PROVE IT TO ME, RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW.

I... Look. I'm tired of people telling me I'm lying when I tell them I can control an alternate universe. You know how I feel, right?

... Maybe. But I DON'T CARE. PROVE IT!

If you insist, I suppose... alright. You will call this a mirror.

... HAH! THIS ISN'T A MIRROR! NOTHING HAPPENED! YOU FAILED!

Well... I suppose there's no use talking reason into you. Well, go on about your sad life that I CREATED.

Pfft, you? Yeah, right. NOBODY created my life as far as I'm concerned. Aside from my mom, that is. Anyways, moving on...

My mom, Heather Rowell... uh, lemme see. I'm not bothered to print out pictures, so... I guess I'll just explain. She has... white-ish blue-ish hair? Yeah, that works. She likes to wear dresses, and her fur is a grey and white with some green... uh, fur. Let's see what I know about my mom... she loves flowers and keeping up with the latest trends. She's a great cook and a great mom, but she still treats me like a little pup. She keeps on telling me, "Stop lying about your powers, darling. Our generation's never had powers and never will have them. If you keep on lying to everyone about your powers, they won't be your friends, okay? It's okay to not have powers, but it's not okay to lie." Like, hello? I have powers and this book proves it??? Hmph.