The Eleventh Hour (pt 1)

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"No. Way," I whispered. Although when I thought about it, there were actually many plausible theories. I touched the wall as I stepped through the door and pinched myself.

Theory number one: dreaming. False.

When I followed Amy inside, Rory was sitting on a small brown couch. Before Rory had a chance to say anything, with a perplexed look on his face, Amy yelled.

"Rory! Scarlette is here!" She went to sit next to him on the couch and put her head in her hands.

Rory looked shocked at her words. "Really?"

"Yup!" Amy sighed, her head still in her hands.

Rory stood up and walked over to me, looking at me cautiously. I expected him to say something, but just like Amy did before, he only stared intently at my hair, and then glanced to me as if asking for permission to touch it. I didn't understand their obsession with my hair. It wasn't special, or anything. It was a normal light brown color. I forgot to brush it this morning in excitement, so it was kind of messy— yet he was observing a lock of it closely, flipping it in his hands, until I became too uncomfortable with the situation and stepped back.

"Okay, can you maybe tell me what's going on? And what is it with my hair?" I asked frantically, Amy still refusing to look at me, glaring at the television in front of her.

"Everything's with your hair," she mumbled, crossing her arms.

I turned to Rory with a look on my face that said help me, and he sighed and scratched his head. "You told us you were coming. Uh, we could sit down, I guess."

I followed Rory as he walked over to a small circular wooden table in the kitchen. Despite knowing them as characters, I still felt like I was in a stranger's house. The wooden chair screeched, echoing through the awkwardly quiet household as he pulled it out and sat down. I blinked at him a moment, but he didn't even look at me. He only stared at the seat in front of me, so I reluctantly fell in the seat across him.

He still wasn't looking at me. "Amy?" he called nervously.

There was a stretched silence between us before Amy responded.

"No thank you!" She shouted back stubbornly.

He sighed again and stood up. "Sorry, one minute."

He walked back over to the living room, which was only a few paces away and wasn't separated by a door. I didn't know anything, and it was making me worried and angry, because the theory of multiple universes still didn't explain how I seemed to have jumped to a different one, and the fact that I came to this one specifically... it just couldn't be a coincidence. This was my favorite TV show that my best friend and I used to bond over, even back in high school when we only had the classics. When I left for Area 51, I felt like it was the only thing I had left from my normal life, so I kept watching it religiously. The only hint I had so far was that my being here had something to do with my locket, the orb I found, and the volts we exposed it to.

It doesn't feel like just a TV show now that I was in a personable house. Area 51, much less my normal life, felt like an illusion. I also didn't know why Amy was mad at me. Rory didn't seem too mad at me, he just seemed... sorry.

I decided I might be able to figure out why, quietly getting up from my chair and pressing myself up against a wall right by the doorway to their living room.

"Amy, this is Scarlette, this is someone else. We have to do what she said, we have to help her," I heard Rory whisper fiercely. Who was the other person they were talking about? How did she know I would be here? And why in the world did she tell them to help me?

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