Hi guysssss so hope you enjoy I guess XOXO-DH

"Miss Burr?" Mr. Silvers, my history teacher, asks, calling on me to answer the question.

"17-" I begin to answer when the bell shrills, signaling it's time for the next period. "76," I finish the answer to myself.

"Okay everyone! Don't forget your homework on Federal Classroom!" Mr. Silvers shouts over the textbooks slamming and kids packing up. After packing up my backpack, my best friend, Shay, walks up to me.

"Hey Alexa! You like my hair?" she asks looking at me with her (apparently) blue eyes, which I've never seen.

"Did you dye it? Because if you're asking me about that, you're evil," I say slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

"Oh c'mon. You know I'm teasing. I get your mono-whatever vision is hard to live with," she sincerely tells me, despite her nonchalant tone.

"Monochromatic vision. You could at least learn what my colorblindness is called," I sarcastically snap, arriving at our lockers after fighting through the crowds in the hallway and switching our books out for the right subject.

"Of course I know what it's called, but all I really need to know is it causes you to see the world in black and white," she replies matter-of-factly.

"Whatever, see you at lunch!" I wave closing my locker and walking to my next class.

"My hair's violet like your eyes, by the way!" she calls from the opposite side of the hall.

Yep, that's right. I have violet eyes, or so I'm told since, you know, I'm colorblind. My parents tell me I developed my purple eyes when I lost my sense of color at the ripe old age of 5. Miraculous, right? The doctors still can't figure out how and why I got the eye color I have now and how it's related to colorblindness, but I guess they're working on it.

I make my way to my favorite class with my favorite teacher, English. The magic authors make with a simple paper and pencil is absolutely amazing. I mean half of our movie industry is BECAUSE of books! The books are almost always better than the movies, but you get the point.

Pulling out my newest short story, I walk into Ms. Greene's English class. I set the stapled pieces of paper on Ms. Greene's desk and she turns around from writing on the whiteboard.

"Hi Alexa! New story?" she asks putting her light colored (probably blonde) hair up in a ponytail.

"Yep! It's called, 'Stripes'." I exclaim excitedly.

"Sounds interesting; I've taught you so well," she says wiping a fake tear. I laugh and make my way to my front row desk to set up my 'Writing Space', as Ms. Greene likes to call it.

Ms. Greene has to be one of the coolest teachers in the universe. She's been my teacher since 6th grade so I've only had her for one year but she's honestly so amazing. Kim (because yeah, we're that close) really helped me unlock 'the writer inside'. She's always been there when I wasn't comfortable talking to anyone else. Basically, she's the 22-year-old sister I never had, not just a teacher.

BRRRRIIIINGGG!

I was so focused bragging about Ms. Greene, I didn't notice everyone else filing in and taking their seats.

"Hello 7th graders! Get your Writer's Notebooks out and start today's Write Into the Day!" Some people groan in response, but I actually enjoy Write Into the Days, they really help me get my creative juices flowing. I pull out my mechanical pencil, flip to a clean page in my notebook and start writing.

After sharing some of our writing, Ms. Greene picks up a stack of papers I'm guessing she'll be passing out.

"Okay class, we are going to be starting a major writing project where you'll have to write a fictional narrative! Your own brain babies! I'm passing out the scoring rubrics for the assignment." Called it! I think giving myself a mental high-five. "I want you to use your imaginations, be creative and have fun! You're going to have to turn in a plot arc, rough draft, and a typed revision piece by next Friday for the full 70 points, so you have approximately 9 days. Don't procrastinate, though. Remember, I want creative original stories and creativity takes time. Some of you will struggle with this and others..." she passes by my desk throwing me a wink, "not so much. If you want, you can make a character similar to yourself. And by 'if you want' I mean I strongly encourage you to. You might even get extra credit for it." The bell rings, signaling the end of the period. "You're dismissed when you receive a rubric!" After she drops a rubric on my desk, I stuff it in my homework folder. Might as well get the plot arc and rough draft done tonight. I think shoving my things into my backpack. Walking out of my classroom, I see Shay waiting outside of it.

"Hey Shay!" I say still walking. She falls into step next to me.

"What's crackin?"

"What?" I ask laughing.

"It's a new thing I'm saying." She crosses her arms across her chest, pouting. Even being colorblind, I can see the personality and color radiating off this awfully weird human being... aka my best friend.

~~~

"Thanks for dinner, Dad!" I call running up the stairs to finish the rough draft for English. I've decided to make it about this girl who's colorblind (like me) and she has the power to see places throughout time. For example, if she's at Chesapeake Bay, where the Battle of the Chesapeake took place, she'd see parts of the battle. Cool, right? Useless, but cool. I wish I had those powers as a result of colorblindness. But nope. I've decided to call the moments she sees into the past 'episodes'. I don't know, it sounded cool. Maybe her episodes could be in color? Yes, definitely. Oh how I'd love to see color again and color in one of those adult coloring books. Thing is, coloring was my favorite thing to do when I was little. Ironic, isn't it?

I sit down at my desk and pull out a few pieces of clean lined paper and a pencil along with an eraser. I crack my knuckles and fingers, time to get to work.

"Alexa, go to bed!" my mom yells.

"Going!" I look at the four pieces of paper I've filled up front and back in the last four hours.

"Gah! There's two more sentences I can't fit on here!" I complain to no one in particular. I pull out another piece of lined paper, annoyed, and scribble down the last two sentences. Dropping my pencil with a satisfying thud, I lay my arm over my eyes and lean back in my desk chair. I love writing but dang is it tiring. I pull my arm off my face and open my eyes. Suddenly, I'm in a whole different place.

"Let's steal their cannons!" someone suggests. The crowd cheers and a few people break off to infiltrate the enemy. Over on the opposite of the red blood stained battlefield are what I think are the Redcoats. Wait. Red? I can see color! I think finally realizing. Hold on, is that Alexander Hamilton?

I blink a few times and I'm back in my room. Okay, what was that? Was that the Revolutionary War? I shake my head. No, there's no way. You're probably delirious. I get up from my chair and go to the bathroom with a set of PJs to change. After changing and putting on a headband to hold back my hair, I grab my face wash and squirt some on my palm. Lathering the face wash in my hands, I spread it on my face. I turn the faucet to cold and splash water onto my face to wash away the dirt of the day. I look into the mirror to see if I missed anything and I notice my eyes dilate, my pupils taking over my irises. What the...

All of a sudden there's a tanned man, wearing nothing but a loincloth, spearing a boar. I quickly turn around to avert my innocent eyes and behind me is a village of people. No one seems to notice there's a 13-year-old girl in pink bunny pajamas-wait. Pink? I look down at my clothes. I can see color! Am I turning into my story's character? Maybe. Am I okay with it? Heck yeah! I wanna stay here forever! But I have homework to turn in...Maybe I can go turn in my homework and then come back. Well, I don't know if I want to stay in this particular episode. I wonder if I can choose where I can have an episode...I kind of want to go to the 70s or maybe-

Abruptly, I gasp sitting up in my blue bed and try to catch my breath. It was all...a dream? It had to be! My name isn't Alexa Burr, its Zena Hamilton. I'm not colorblind, I have perfect vision and sense of color. I don't have black hair, I'm a natural blonde. This is all way too weird. I get up from my bed and walk into my bathroom. And my favorite class is NOT English. Hate that class. I splash cold water on my face and look into the mirror. Also, I have dark, brown eyes. So can someone tell me why violet ones are staring back at me?