A/N: lol, I'm just sitting behind my scrivener desk in Time's office block and I CAN'T STOP SPINNING ON THESE SPINNY-CHAIR THINGYS AND OMG I FEEL SICK AND I'M NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO GET SICK LIKE WUT!?!

Anyway, here you all go, the next chapter. Please don't seriously traumatise me...

[Fear's POV]

After a long day of introducing my friends to Time and watching her make them run around in circles with her unique way with words, I waved goodbye to all of them as the last one left. Smiling like I was possessed (in other words, how I normally smile), I recounted everything that happened today.

Time had somehow managed to convince Max to climb on the table, singing "Let it go" from Frozen in the worst singing voice in existence, with the rest of us fighting laughs. All in all, for the first time since I've joined the group, I actually enjoyed myself.

(A/N: Slight trigger warning for readers sensitive to puke. Look for the usual skip)

I felt a weird tingling from my stomach. It felt familiar, but I couldn't place it, for some reason. I knew it stood for something important.

In the end, I just shrugged it off. I'll deal with it later. I walked into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich, all the while my stomach feels funny.

When my mom (haaaaaaahhhhhh)  came home, the tingling was getting a whole lot worse. Quietly, I snuck into my room and closed the door, locked it and turned up the sound-proofing as high as I could.

My room was, as Time would put it, extremely typical of me. The walls were pitch black with swirling patterns in red. I had a full-length flatscreen hanging on one side of my room, above which hung enough speakers to make an old man deaf (I LOVE blasting my music in the office, much to Time's consternation). My bed was furthest from the door, King-sized and, typically, with black quilting and a red sheet and, you guessed it, red and black pillows. Off to the side is a door hidden in the woodwork that leads to my in-suite bathroom, with black tiles, red toilet (do not even), a shower (red, again) and basin (lighter shade of black with red taps). Personally designed, I'm sure you can tell.

Instantly, I felt my gut tighten. I could only manage a gasp before the I tasted bile at the back of my throat. I ran to my bathroom and doubled over, fighting against spewing chunks into the toilet. I held my stomach, the pressure worsening. I scrunched my eyes up as the pressure built up. Holding the edge of the toilet bowl, I fought against the pressure, trying to stall for time, but it slowly got worse until...

I barfed. All of the food I had just eaten came out, completely whole. I stared in shock at the toilet bowl, feeling the tears pooling from their sockets.

I had reached stage 1 of the 10 stages of immortality: the forced detoxing, or otherwise known as the forced removal of all things mortal from my system.

I walked to school in a bid attempt to avoid an interrogation on why I never eat supper and dodged breakfast by grabbing an apple and tossing it into our maze of a garden. Speed walking, I got to school earlier than yesterday and, on seeing next to no one there, called Time.

"Hello?"

" Welcome to Triple F, Fast Food Fortunes, this is Nightmare speaking."

"Fear, really?"

"No, this is Nightmare."

"Fine," I could practically feel her roll her eyes at me."Fe- Nightmare," she hastily corrected herself."To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" I felt a smirk creep it's way onto my face.

"I believe we have an order for a Ms. Pocketwatch?" I said as professionally as I could manage, which was basically full of chokes and snorts.

"That would be me..."

"Well, the order was placed to be delivered at-" I quickly looked for the name of the street."43 Mangiola Crescent?"

"Fear," Time said in her signature no-nonsense tone."Why are you at school so early?"

"It's a very funny story, that. I'll explain it during break-"

"Can't, Fear. Healie and Jee, remember?" I groaned in annoyance.

"I can't explain it over the phone," I rolled my eyes. I know that she needs to witness it personally to believe it has begun.

"Okay," I sighed when she replied."I'm on my way."

A/N: DA FEELZ LIKE NO, WHY?

(I really need to stop being so evil to you all 😂🔫)

Anyway, Fear (for those of you who have no idea) is my little cinnamon roll (even though he's Time's cinnamon roll first). We all try to look out for those two, us scriveners. He always makes us smile with his crazy antics (much to Time's annoyance), but, as a scrivener, it is my job to write the story behind the story.

(OOOOOOWWWWWWW. Okay, okay, fine. Sheesh, I wrap it up, just don't whack me on the head with that book again. Calm yourself, Time)

Anyway, pm your character if you want me to add them, and I'll see where I can add them, and I'll see you later.

Denograde out ;)

(Satisfied now?*shuffling noises* Don't you DARE hit me with that book again, Time. I was assigned to write this. FEAR, HELP ME!!!)