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Part 6

Excerpt from the journal of Bradygirl:

I was determined to find a way to get Mike and Carrie together even if it killed me. And the way things were looking lately, it just might. Plots, theories and scandals swirled in my mind intertwining with my dreams as I slept. It was a restless kind of sleep. The kind sleep where you feel like you didnít get any rest at all. The kind of sleep where you feel like you were in another world even though everything around you seemed the same. At least, I thought it was the same.

When I awoke that morning, everything looked as it had the night before. My journal was still in the drawer next to my bed. The CD Conversation with God was still in my CD player waiting to be played and my dirty clothes were still in the basket on the other side of the room. It was all the same, but it didnít feel the same. I donít know why I knew. I just did.

I then went from room to room. Kitchen, same. Bathroom, same. Even the view from every window appeared the same as it always had. Thatís when I shrugged off my suspicions and started getting ready for work. I did this in my usual manner leaving hair brushing until last. I struggled through my long locks with a wide tooth brush trying to help it along with a sprits of water here and there. My hair is long and brown and frames my face in a becoming fashion. I was contemplating wearing it up or down listening to the dee jay jaw on the radio about some festival or another and listening to the phone in the apartment next door incessantly ring off the hook.

Fifteen minutes later I crept down stairs for some breakfast, vitamins and the local traffic report. It was deadline day. A day to drive in to work instead of taking the bus. I was the type of person who loved the bus and hated driving which was why the traffic report was so important to my morning ritual. Traffic was always a mess on Monday. Driving was not a part of the day I looked forward to. Inwardly sighing and praying to God to get me there safely, I opened the door to the outside world. Only there was something strange outside. There wasnít an outside outside. I was still inside. I found myself in a hallway. Instead of finding my little white car, I found myself in a hallway. What in heavenís name was going on here?

As I glanced around, I realized something. I knew this hallway. Iíd seen it many times before. This was the hallway outside Carrie and Austinís apartment. What in the world was I doing here?

All I could think of was the plans DiVA and I had concocted to coheres Craig into finding out the information on the precedent. Not to mention the plan to help Mike prove that Austin was really Willís father. But those plans were a far stretch from actually being in the soap myself. Then the idea hit me like a ton of bricks. Sally! She was behind this. She had to be. She actually wrote me into the script so she could have control over me and what ideas I came up with to help Mike. Aaaahhhhh! The nerve!

The one thing Sally didnít know was that I still had my own mind and my own ideas. I was going to beat her at her own game. Now all I needed was a computer. I had to contact DiVA and tell her my situation.

Little did I know that DiVA had her share of trouble as well. She didnít find herself in her house that morning as I had. Living on the east coast, she was three to four hours ahead of the rest of the world. And to people in LA, DiVA was a very early riser. She had actually been in her kitchen making coffee when the change occurred.

Even though she didnít know her way around Salem she found the landmarks quickly. The Java Cafe was her first stop. It had to be. She really needed a cup of coffee. It wasnít everyday you woke up in a soap opera. She was still sitting there sipping her latte when I found her. Or rather, she found me.

"Toni," said an unfamiliar voice.

I turned to find a blonde, blue-eyed woman sitting there who could have passed as Mike Hortonís sister. I had a hard time not calling her Jennifer Rose, but I resisted the temptation and walked over to her table.

"Do I know you?" I asked. "I know where I am but I donít recognize you as a character." Iím sure I came off sounding like a complete idiot.

"Thatís because Iím not a character, silly. Itís me Holly. You know DiVA."

I about fell on the floor thanking God that I didnít have to go through this alone.

"You know why weíre here, donít you?" I said with annoyance.

"I thought you might," DiVA said. "So I didnít think about it. You are the queen of theories."

"I thought I was the queen of fan fic," I said jokingly.

"That too. But right now Iím afraid weíre more in need of theories than fan fic."

I had to agree. Theories were probably a good idea right about now. We needed to be prepared when the other residents of Salem decided to rise and shine.

"So, why are we here oh mighty queen?"

"Sally Sussman Morina. It has to be her. Sheís written us into the show?" My voice sounded bitter. I was actually angry about this. Here I was in the soap world. A world I spent so much time in... in my imagination... and here I was angry. I wasnít here because I had driven to Burbank to come and visit. I was here because Sally had put me here. And the thought just curled my toe nails.

"You think?" said DiVA with some suspicion in her voice.

"I think. Itís not every day you wake up and find yourself in a fictional town surrounded by fictional people. By the way, where are all the fictional people?" I turned and stared at an empty Salem Place.

"I donít know. Want to go find some?"

So we went off in search of fictional people. Our first stop.... University Hospital. The most logical choice.

to Part 7

(Hey, this is fun.... anyone want to write some of it too.
We could do this as a Continue the Story story.
Let me know what you think.)

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