My Story.

I can't believe I'm actually doing this. You don't even KNOW the trouble I'd be in if anyone that knew me found out, let alone any of his other-worldly friends (and if you think I'm kidding, just wait). But you know, I don't even care if doing this is a sin or something, because you can only hold back secrets so long.

So, Fred, Mikal, Elemere, and mostly, Kylan, you self-absorbed jerk; if you're reading this, I'm sorry. I don't know how you'd ever get to access something like this unless you stole my laptop (so it's probably Kylan, in which case, thanks a lot), but you've got to understand, I'm begging you.

Alright. Well. I'm not and never have been good at starting an introduction or anything, so I'm just going to get to it, and probably end up telling my story in lumpy chunks of random words. If you can put it together to make sense, okay. If you can't, even better.

My name is Trey Anne-Marie Kalhan. I'm seventeen (but really, who isn't these days?) and auburn-headed (my hair goes down to mid-back, but according to Nina, I'm officially starting to grow it out more), with what Kylan would call 'weird and freezing' blue-gray eyes. I'm pale, which kind of works with the whole redish-brown hair thing, with freckles on both sides of my nose, which, if you knew the pressure I'm under to look "pure", is a horrible quality. I never liked them until now, though, so that just goes to prove that the bad things in life always look better at the really bad times.

Speaking of really bad times, I guess I should probably explain my whole situation. After all, that's the whole reason I've had to resort to a stupid blog. Most people would go to a shrink for these problems.

There's no shrinks, psychaitrists, or anything relating to mental health here. Being stuck in 1899 A.D., you just get thrown in prison if you're mentally unstable.

This is the point where most people start doubting me, and switching blog pages to something more interesting. But I can tell you now, I'm not lying. Victoria is queen, though she's rather annoying sometimes. I know. I've met her. One war has broken out so far this year, though no one knows the exact date (it's believed to be February 4th, but whatever): the Phillipene-American War. I didn't even KNOW we had a Philipene-American war until Mikal was teaching me current history (which, yeah, is kind of a contradiction in it's self, but seriously, it's needed --- just like Old English class. No kidding.), and Kylan seemed kind of amused that I was that "ignorant about my own countries past." (I informed him that the Second Boer War would break out this year in October, too, and he just rolled his eyes.)

So, if you get the jist, I'm not lying. And believe me, I wish I was.

If you're confused yet, just wait. It gets oh-so-much better.

I used to live in Augusta, ME, with my mom, two older brothers, and whoever Mom was currently dating. And when I say 'used to', I mean 'less than 96 hours ago.' No kidding. I had an okay life, and I was fine with it. It didn't bother me. I went to the local high school, I worked at the local grocery store... literally, I was one of those cookie-cutter kids. Until Bartholemew Saalem tried to kill me, and I woke up from a comatose state in the 19th century, because a group of people, the Protectors(a.k.a. Fred, Ele, and Ky), had to have a decoy fake Princess, and since Bartholemew, who if you didn't guess by now is the bad guy here, had already tried to kill me for reasons no one understands, they pulled me into the past to fit the part.

I'm tired. It's a pain dragging someone else into my mess.

Deidre, the Princess Dog, or whatever, is already starting to hate me. This whole staying-up-late-to-tell-my-story-illegally isn't helping, if I had to guess.

Informally, and with deep, dark pleasure,
TAMK