It was safe to say that convincing my parents to let us go on a car trip was easier said than done. Arthur didn't have any problem at all. He says this is because "I am a good boy and my parents know it." I can guarantee that this is utter bullshit, but you didn't hear that from me. Anyway, back to the problem I was having.

So, my parents are extremely overprotective. They even made me install this app on my phone so that they could see where I was at all times, so long as my phone was on me. I've nicknamed it the 'phone stalker'. Every time I uninstall it, they somehow get it back on my phone. I have no idea how, but its super creepy. [Oops. I went off topic again. My bad.] Basically, I had, at most, two days to figure out how I was supposed to convince my parents to let me go on a trip with just Arthur. That two-day time limit was changed to one day rather quickly. This came after a certain news story on the TV that night . . .

* * * * * * * *

I was sitting on the lounge with Arthur. He was watching me try to balance a plate of crackers, cheese, dips, and fruits on a small portable mini table between us with no luck because it kept moving. [Well, what am I supposed to call it, miss know-it-all? . . . Yeah, that's what I thought.] My cousin, much to my annoyance, wasn't even trying to help me. I eventually succeeded after about ten minutes of annoyance, but my victory was short lived. When my parents came and sat with us, the lounge moved enough that the plate slipped away. Arthur managed to catch it before it hit the floor.

"Nice reflexes," Mum laughed, sipping on a can of coke and looking like she was trying not to laugh.

"Gotta have good reflexes to play soccer, auntie," he told her, putting the plate between us and balancing it on the first try. I only glared at him.

Mum spoke to me this time. "Why don't you do a sport?

I gave her a flat look. "Because you and dad made me quit professional swimming."

"I wanted you to go to the Olympics, not quit," Dad muttered from the kitchen. Arthur and I rolled our eyes, mum sighing. It had been Dad's idea to get me to quit and he had been . . . persuasive. [Also, I won't go into detail about that. If you want to know, ask me yourself.]

Not wanting to deal with the nightly dose of Dad's shit, I turned on the TV so I could watch one of my favourite shows. Naturally, moments later, the remote was torn from my hand and the channel was changed to the news. "We're not watching that fucking show," Dad said, stomping back to the show.

I said some rather unfriendly things under my breath, enough that both Mum and Arthur stared at me wide-eyed. "It happens every. Single. Night!" I hissed at them. "He never lets me have my way. Never."

"You are a little obsessive with Dragons, cuz," Arthur started slowly.

I cut him off. "One episode a night. Is that so much to ask for in this household?"

My cousin put his hand over my mouth as I went to continue on my rant and pointed towards the TV. The current news item was something about a scroll being stolen. No one knew the identity of the thief. When they put up a picture of the stolen scroll - which was surprising considering how 'insignificant' the story seemed - Arthur and I were silent. It looked exactly the same as ours, only it was completed. Where ours had stopped, there was another three lines of Atlantean writing. Arthur managed to snap a photo of it without my parents noticing.

"Show that to Ly after dinner," I whispered to him. He nodded.

* * * * * * * *

Lydia was floating around my still-to-be-painted room when me and Arthur wandered in. She took one look at our faces and asked what had happened. Arthur showed her the picture of the scroll from the news and she gaped, going to grab his phone before remembering she couldn't hold it.

"What does this mean?" I asked, being the one voicing what was on everyone's mind. Apparently this is something I normally do but I couldn't tell you why. [Ly is sighing in the background for some reason?] When Ly was about to say the entire scroll again, I jumped in. "Give us the SparkNotes version, yeah?"

She sighed dramatically and completely ignored what I said. [This is friendship, kids. It. Sucks.] "'All will be able to see this rip between the worlds. Previous records have told of the paranoia that comes with seeing into the next world. Faiths went against faiths with believers spinning lies and truths to their advantage. Battles were only ended when word spread that the event itself was a stunt; an illusion. There is no guarantee this will be the case as the world grows and thoughts change. People may be more accepting of the next world, or the event could have quite the opposite effect.'"

My cousin turned towards me. "Lady, find a way to convince your parents to let you go. If that scroll was stolen by someone who would basically try to destroy the world over the truth to what happens next – "

"Yeah, yeah. End of the world." So much for this stuff only happening in books, I thought.