The sun shines vibrantly through my bedroom window. I sit up and stretch, a smile on my face. The dream I had last night made me forget that anything bad ever happened between him and I, and I had a feeling it was going to be a good day.

I glanced around my room, breathing in the fresh smell. I was about to lie back down and relax, until I realized my bedroom walls weren't white.

I wasn't in my own room.

I quickly shot up and glanced around my room once more. The walls were white with baby blue borders around the top, and the floor was carpet. My floor was hardwood, and my walls were mint green. A desk was adjacent to my bed, and it was piled with books. To my left was a white dresser that had four pictures sitting on top, and to my right was a record player. I never owned a record player in my life.

I looked down at my comforter. It was baby blue with white flowers. As much as it scared me that this wasn't my room, this had to be the softest quilt I had ever felt in my sixteen years of life. I quickly hop out of bed and glance down at my clothes. I had on a peach night gown. Woah. I never ever wore nightgowns. I was good with my penguin pajama pants and a black tank top. My hair was also down and in waves. I always had it up in a messy bun.

I run out to the kitchen, and my head starts to spin. In the middle of the kitchen was an old time table with four red chairs around it. There was a simple stove and sink against the wall, along with some cabinets. An old fashioned toaster sat on one of the counters, and a wind up radio sat beside it. The walls were white like my bedroom, but they didn't have a boarder. The floors were black and white tile.

A woman with light blonde hair stood at the sink washing dishes, and a man with brown hair sat at the table reading the newspaper, sipping coffee. The woman turned around and glanced at me. She vaguely resembled my mom.

"Good morning, honey. Did you sleep well?" She smiled at me, and I smiled back. I nod my head, and sit down at the table beside the man.

He resembled my dad, except his eyes were hazel instead of brown. I'm guessing they were my parents, but I didn't understand. Where was I? Did I even have the same name?

"What's my name?" I question, and they both look at me weirdly before laughing.

"Are you sure you are okay?" The woman says, placing her backhand against my forehead. "You don't feel hot."

"Michelle, what kind of question was that?" The man asks, and I let out a sigh of relief.

"Just wanted to have a good laugh." They both go back to what they were doing. My "mom" places a plate of waffles and a glass of orange juice in front of me. I could tell by the smell that the waffles were homemade. I poked my fork in it and placed it in my mouth. My mouth exploded with flavor, and I let out a moan of pleasure.

"These are the best waffles I have ever had." I mumble, and mom chuckles. I watch as dad continues to read the newspaper, carefully looking over every part of it. Out of curiosity, I try to read the front of the page.

"What year is it?" I ask, and dad takes a sip of his coffee.

"1955." My heart stops. I finally realized why everything was different.

I wasn't even in the right decade!

I quickly finished the mouth watering waffles and orange juice before I placed my plate and cup in the sink and walked back to my room. I ran over to the closet and pulled it open.

Inside was a bunch of dresses, poodle skirts, what looked like crop tops, sweaters, and button up shirts. I ran over to my other dresser and found a couple pair of Capri's and more nightgowns. On the vanity beside my closet was a curling iron, rollers, and a bandana.

Well, at least the fashion taste in this generation is great.

I put on a pair of blue Capri's paired with a white button up. I match it with the bandana after rolling my hair up in a bun, leaving my bangs out. I have to say, I look like a bad ass fifties girl, and now that I actually live in the fifties, it makes it that much more cooler. After sliding on a pair of white flip flops, I walk out to the kitchen where mom is reading a book.

"Honey, the McCarthy's just moved in beside us. They want to know if you could watch their daughter tomorrow. They have to go to a work party, and their teenage kids are going with them." I nod my head, smiling. She smiles back at me.

What if people knew me? Would I just automatically know them, or would I have to act like I did and learn as much as I could in the matter of five seconds?

I shurg and walk around the house. Beside the kitchen is a spacious living room. It has a white couch, white chair, small TV, and a jukebox. The walls were yellow, and the floors were hardwood. Behind the TV was a huge picture window, and the sun shined vibrantly through it. I walked back out to the kitchen and down the hallway where my room was. Across from my room was a bathroom. At the end of the hall was the master bedroom, and beside it was the master bathroom. I walked back out of the kitchen to the front door, where a coat rack was standing beside the door.

"I'm going for a stroll." I hollered to whoever heard.

"Okay, have fun!" I hear my mother yell, and I chuckle.

If I was back in my generation, my mom would yell "be careful!" Or, "don't get into a van, and don't be stupid!". This generation was so carefree, and I loved it.

I walked out to the sidewalk and looked back at my house. It was light blue, with white shudders around the windows. The front yard was fenced in, and I noticed a dog house behind the yard. I had a dog? How did I not notice it? Well, now I know the first thing to find when I get home from my stroll.

I began my walk around the block. There was a lot of houses at first, but then I reached a little town. There was diners, convenient stores, and book stores. A little library sat beside the pharmacy, and beside it was a drive in. Kids ran up the sidewalks, chasing their friends, and other people rode their bicycles on the street. Most of the streets were filled with ford convertibles or cadillacs. I continued walking down the road until I reached the outskirts of the town, where there was a highschool, and another drive in. The high school was vacant, while guys and girls stood around the drive in. Motorcycles lined the walls of the drive in, along with some Cadillacs. The one Cadillac that stood out was a bright pink one.

Outside of the drive in was a group of guys, all matching with the same leather jacket. One pulled out a brush and fixed his hair, while the others laughed. Standing beside each one was a girl with a pink jacket. Every guy had one except for one. He stood alone, but still interacted with all of them. The pink jacket reminded me of the pink ladies from Grease, but I highly doubted that's what those jackets represented. They couldn't be real. That movie was fiction, but it sure made the fifties look fun.

I decided to head back home before they would notice me. If any of them noticed me, I wouldn't know who they are. So for today, I decided it would be best if no one noticed me. I walked back through the town until I reaches my house. I walked in, and the dog I couldn't find earlier finally showed up. It was a salt and pepper Schnauzer, and it was so small. I absolutely loved it. It was my dream dog.

"Michelle, keep Deliah in your room tonight. I don't want her tearing up my books again!" I smile at the little dog.

So her name was Delilah. I loved it, and I loved her. I took her back to my room and close the door. After changing into my nightgown, I almost got into bed.

Almost, until I heard the sound of a motorcycle right outside my house. I pulled back the curtain on my window and glanced outside. At the house beside me was one of those guys in the leather jacket, and he pulled his motorcycle on the side of the street. He hopped off of the motorcycle and slid his helmet off of his head. His hair was messy, but it was adorable. I couldn't see his face, but as I watched him walk inside the house, I knew he knew he was bad. He was confident. He was mysterious.

And I loved it.

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Hey guys!

Soooo, how are we feeling about this story so far?

... And Mr. Mysterious? (;

Thanks for reading!

Much love,

-Abby