I took a deep breath and blew out my candles. My face became narrow as I looked down to the floor, realizing there's no possible way for it to come true. "What'd you wish for, what'd you wish for?!" Jenny asked, hoping to hear my magical answer. I looked up at Jenny and gave a fake smirk to her, "Can't tell you that," I said, trying to present the happiest tone I can, "Or else.." I couldn't finish my sentence. I already knew it couldn't come true. They all waited for me to finish my thought, but I just looked up at them and smiled. "Thank you all so much, I love you guys," I said, kissing them all on the cheek, "I've got a lot of homework to do so...I'm going to get started." They all looked concerned and frowned at me. "What do you mean? Don't you want to eat cake?" my dad asked, nudging the cake towards me. I felt sick to my stomach. "We'll eat it after dinner! I promise. I'll be back." I said, smiling and grabbing my backpack and heading my way up the stairs to my bedroom. 

         I dragged my feet to my bedroom and threw my backpack over to the side. I slowly walked over to my bed and gently laid my head on my generic-white pillow. I wish it could come true, I thought to myself, slowly shutting my eyelids. A lot of things would be different. I'd be happy. I'd meet people I really look up to and admire, instead of everyone making fun of me for it here. My thoughts didn't make me feel better, they actually made me feel even worse. But slowly I began to realize how exhausted I was. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I do need to let go of the Beatles. Come on, Martha, you're 17 and still obssesing over a boy band. I need to grow the hell up. That's the last thing I thought before drifting into a hard, heavy sleep.

           "Is she dead?" I heard a muffled heavy accent say in the distance. "Don't be daft, she's sleeping! You can see her breathing y'know." I heard another manly accent say a few feet away from me. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, and my eye lids were glued together. I couldn't process who exactly was speaking, but god did it sound familiar. "Well..Should we wake her up then?" a deeper voice said to the others. "What're you an idiot? Let her sleep! She's probably a crazy bird who snuck into our hotel room or something. When she wakes up, she'll probably attack us." a more lighter, pretty voice stated. "A fan who snuck into our hotel room, then fell asleep? Wow, Paul McCharmly, you should be a detective." a witty voice replied. Paul McCharmly? Why does that sound familiar....

                  I slowly but surely opened my eyelids; all I could see was 4 blurry images standing next to me. What the hell...."Aye lads, the bird is waking up!" the witty one exclaimed while looking at me in a concerned way. They all ran over to me as my eyes started to show clear images of the four men in suits. I was scared as hell, and confused as hell. Who are they? Where am I? Oh my god they must of taken me here to murder me or something. I feel like I've seen this in a horror movie; four men wearing suits thinking of a way to take my life. "W-who are you?" I asked in a cracky, slow-moving tone. "Oh don't be daft with us," the one with the witty attitude said to me, "We know you know who we are. Who the hell are you?" I was taken back by his rudeness towards me and he doesn't even know me. Why should I even let him have the honor of knowing my name? "That's none of your business, actually," I said, sitting up from the couch and giving him a stubborn look. He gave me a cheeky grin and looked at one of the other boys with a heavy British accent and beautiful jaw bone. "It's none of our business, Georgie! Hah!" he said, nudging George on the shoulder. George ignored him and looked me deep in the eyes with a serious look. Jesus, this boy is gorgeous. "How'd you get in our hotel room, love?" George asked with a concerned look. My stubborn lightened the more i looked into his deep brown eyes. My face relaxed from the sternness.

             
"U-um, hotel room?" I said, not really comprehending what he was saying because I just couldn't stop looking at him. He gave me a nod and waited for me to answer. Finally, his words sank in. "Hotel room? What the hell?! Where am I?!"  I said, looking around the room and getting up from the small frigid couch. "That's right, you're in our hotel room for some reason. We came back from the downstairs club and saw you sleeping on the couch. Care to explain that miss?" Paul asked me, while I walked around their room trying to find answers. "I don't even know what's going on, okay?" I said stopping to look at them and then continuing to search. I went to a tray of food and beverages that was in the middle of the room, and saw a newspaper. I quickly grabbed it and turned it around to look at the date. February 8, 1964.