Creative Writing Task- I NOW HAVE A MANSION

I wake up in my bed. Hmmm… comfortable. Almost…TOO comfortable. I look around. This isn’t my bed. This looks like a RICH PERSON’S bed…and I’m in silk pyjamas! These aren’t my pyjamas! I look around some more. This isn’t my ROOM. There are huge windows everywhere and big gold and blue curtains framing them. The king-sized majestic bed I’m in is on a platform in the middle of the 90×90 room. HOW ON EARTH DID I GET HERE? There are two other rooms attached to the one I’m in. I go to the one on the left first. A HUGE bathroom with TWO bathtubs! This is an EN-SUITE! This is definitely not my house. I go to the room on the right, and it is a gigantic CLOSET! Gucci and Prada purses surrounded a corner of the room. At the bottom was a row of all sorts of expensive shoes; Louis Vuitton, Stuart Weitzman and, again, Gucci. Then I turn to see the beautiful dresses, pants and shirts on one side of the closet. Whoever owned this stuff must be really, REALLY RICH.

 

I hear someone call from down the stairs. 

“Miss, your breakfast is ready!” Is that a butler? I go through the ginormous hallway, and eventually, find my way to the 5-meter wide staircase and go down. It leads me to the entrance with a golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I turn to the right. A very pretty dining/living room area is in front of me. I see the butler come through the arch leading to what appears to be the kitchen. “It’s eggs and pancakes, as you asked, miss!” He’s tall and is wearing fancy black pants and a black tuxedo-type thing. Stereo-typical butler wear.

“Um— Yes, thank you,” I reply. Now I am just super confused. How does this guy know me? Or even better— WHY AM I IN A MANSION? A woman walks in from the arch with plates filled with food, to go put it on the small table in the middle of the big room with a fancy dining table. She must be the servant. She comes to a stop when she looks up to see me.

“Oh, dear! You look sick, I’ll go make you some warm honey tea! Also, you never come down in your pyjamas! Is everything alright?” She asks.

“Yes, yes. I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep much,” I say, looking around. Beside the small table with my breakfast on it is a big living room with a 70 inch TV.

“You look distracted… Well, anyway, sit down! A big breakfast will give you plenty of energy!” The servant says, and with that, she goes through the arch and into the kitchen. I still don’t know her name! I sit down, in front of pancakes and eggs. There is toast on the side, with butter and jam.

“Oh, I’ll turn on the news!” The butler says. He goes to put on the TV in the living room. The butler turns on a channel. Actually, it’s a channel I’ve never seen before.

I see a news reporter with a 1990’s type hairstyle. I see they’re trying to bring THAT back, now! What next, leg warmers and leotards? Then the screen changes to a paparazzi trying to take a picture of someone… I can’t tell who. It looks like a woman, with curly blond hair…

Then I see words pop up on the screen:

LADY DIANA TRYING TO GET TO A CONFERENCE.

 

What on EARTH?! Lady Diana died YEARS ago!

“Ah, yes! Lady Diana. I love her!” Says the butler. I keep watching, trying to understand what is happening. After about 2 minutes, it switches to a different show. Again, a news reporter with the 90’s hairstyle!

“We are all excited for the Olympics 1992! As we all know, this will be happening in Barcelona!” The reporter says enthusiastically.

1992? I nearly choke on my toast.

“Are you ok, miss?” Asks the butler, looking at me awkwardly.

“Yes! I’m just—um—really excited for the Olympics, too!” I lie. The 1992 Olympics happened when I was 3!

 

As I watch the news(in confusion), I attempt to grab another toast but realize I have already eaten the second one. As a result, my hand bangs on the porcelain plate and creates a CLaAang! The butler whips his head from the TV right back to me.

“Sorry,” I say, awkwardly. “I wasn’t looking.”

“Miss, are you sure everything’s alright?”

“Of course! I’ll just go take a… bath,” I say with a smile, trying to get out of this situation. I go up the stairs, run through the hallway for about half an hour until I find the master bedroom in which I woke up. I go to the en-suite bathroom and take a bubble bath. 

 

When I hear the doorbell shortly after I get out of the tub, I go downstairs and almost open the door, until I see the butler come towards it.

“Oh, miss, I insist! I’ll take the door.”

The butler opens the door, and I see…

MICHAEL JACKSON?

All of a sudden I’m back in… my bed… My original bed, in my original room, and I realized it was all just a dream. Actually, it was a nice mansion, and I’ve always wanted to see Michael Jackson, so I actually wouldn’t of minded staying in that dream for a couple of minutes longer…

 

THE END