The Illusion of Time

Chapter • 1

•Y/n
I grab a handful of popcorn and stuff it in my mouth, hoisting myself onto the tall chair of our personal theater. My father owns a large, successful company that builds mansions, so we're able to afford anything we want.

Since he's always busy, the house's empty most of the time and I'm left alone to my thoughts. And sometimes, those thoughts get dark and to block them out, I distract myself with horse riding or reading, studying or watching movies in our theater.

My friends are currently traveling the world but it's too much work to pack so I'd prefer to just stay home.

I pull my phone out of my back pocket, the light blaring into my eyes. I look away hurriedly and curse under my breath. Once my eyes adjust to the bright light, I read the time.

3:47 A.M.

I heave a sigh, turning the movie off before trudging to my bedroom on the second floor.

I strip from my uncomfortably tight shorts, pulling on loose, skimpy shorts. It gets so hot in the summer, I'd rather sleep without anything on but if my father accidentally stumbles into my room and finds me naked... well, I'm dead.

I fall back onto my queen-sized bed, staring at the ceiling in thought. I flip onto my stomach, stuffing my arms under my pillow and stretching out.

I hear my heartbeat begin to slow as I drift off to sleep.

Just then, there are knocks at the door. I jolt up, shuffling to the window.

Maybe it's my dad?

There aren't any cars in the driveway... and I didn't hear the garage door open. Besides, my father has the house keys and he gets home at around 4:30 a.m.

There's another knock.

I trotted to the bathroom and quickly brushed my hair out, spraying on some perfume before creeping downstairs. If I'm gonna get kidnapped or murdered, might as well look good while it happens.

I hesitantly unlock the door, pulling it open to be greeted by 5 unfamiliar figures.

"Um, how can I help you?" I ask, leaning against the door.

How the hell did they get past the gate? They aren't sweating or dirty, they couldn't have jumped over it or ran down the long ass driveway.

"Do you know where we are?" A man that's about 6 feet asks.

"Yeah," I said blandly, "My home. Halloween was last year, why are you wearing that?"

"My apologies. But we seem to be lost in your oddly constructed neighborhood," A man with mesmerizing violet-blue eyes explains.

"Sure. Name?"

"Alexander Hamilton, Ma'am."

I try to laugh but instead, choke on air. They glance at each other in uncertainty then back at me.

I regain my composure and inhale slowly, "My apologies, Alexander Hamilton?"

"Yes?"