IT IS A CALM AND QUIET EVENING when Elizabeth is completely and utterly immersed in the seventh rereading of Harry Potter.

Knock, knock.

"Mrs. Bonewood? Mrs. Bonewood?"

The knock startles her, though she doesn't get up to open the door. For one, she decides, she isn't a married person, and two, her last name is Carter, not Bonewood.

She continues reading her novel.

Again, she is interrupted by a loud and distinct knock - with the same raspy voice calling for a Mrs. Bonewood who neither lived there, nor had anything to do with Elizabeth.

Sighing, she puts down her book, and makes her way to the front door.

- but she doesn't want to unlatch the door, not yet.

Slowly, she tiptoes and peeks out the hole. The boy outside looks about her age, for one, but she can't help but admit that he looks cool. Energetic. Adorable, even.

"Yes?" She asks, not opening the door.

"Mrs. Bonewood?"

It seemed as if the boy outside didn't know how to say anything else.

"There's no Mrs. Bonewood here," she says, unlatching the door.

As she turns to face him, the boy looks at her face and turns a light shade of watermelon pink, his eyes turning wide and his mouth forming a little O.

"E-Elizabeth?" He stutters.

Now this was getting creepy. A moment ago a stranger is knocking at her door, asking for a married lady, and the moment he sees her face he recognises her immediately?

"Who are you?" She asks, carefully.

"I- well, if you ask, I'm Zen." He smiled warmly, and stretched out his hand for her to shake.

She looks at him blankly. "You were asking for a Mrs. Bonewood a while ago. There's no one her-"

"No, I wasn't," He cuts her off. 

"Yes, you were," she snaps back.

"Wasn't."

"You were!" She almost screams, agitated.

And at that very moment, it started to pour. Thunder cackled loudly, the sky turned a darker shade of blue. And the rain started to fall, slowly at first, but picking up pace by the second.

"Please let me in." he says, his voice ringing with the slightest amount of hope.

Elizabeth considers the situation. Her parents are on vacation, enjoying themselves in the Caribbean Islands, and they wouldn't be back for a week. There is a stranger (albeit good looking, still a stranger) on her front door, who wasn't looking for her in the first place but recognises her somehow. Moreover, he's of the opposite gender. She's alone and it is raining quite loudly outside.

It didn't seem like a good idea.

"It doesn't seem like a good idea," she says, and shuts the door on him.

"Elizabeth, please! Elizabeth. Eliza! Elizabeth. Let me in, or I'll have to sleep here. Please?"

Sighing, she opens the door again.

"Who are you?" she asks him again, with the patience of a three year old.

"I told you already, I'm Ze-"

"How do you know me?"

"I'm- ", he paused, and sighed. "It's a long story. You probably won't believe me. Let me in, and I'll explain everything."

She narrowed my eyes at him. "Try me. Tell me your story, here, and I'll let you in."

"I'm from the future." He says, almost nonchalantly.

Elizabeth has a blank look on her face. She can't tell if he's making fun of her, or if he's really sincere. His eyes look genuine, somehow. He has the kind of wide eyes- like a little kid's.

"Come in," she says.

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

"How did you let me in?" He asks, sitting cross legged on my couch.

"You can go out right now, if you want," she replies, pointing to the door. "That way."

"No, I mean, most people wouldn't have believed me if I'd said something like that to them. How did you believe me?"

"I guess I'm not most people,"  she shrugs, settling down next to him.

He just gives her a pointed look.

"Okay, so, I've - you know, seen people completely refusing to believe genuine people who had come from the future and all on shows and movies, so I've always thought that if that would ever happen to me, I'd at least hear them out." she says with a slight hint of nonchalance, hoping he wouldn't find her crazy, - where in fact he was the one making crazy claims.

"So you believe me? Wow. That was easier than I thought."

"Easy there, I said I'd hear them out, not believe them. Anyway, I don't really believe in you. I mean, I don't think time travel is possible - considering how no one has contacted us from the future."

"Maybe we have and you never believed us!"

"Yes, there is that possibility, but at least it would spark out like wildfire - news and information would at least pile up if you'd tried and contacted us. The world would at least been wondering."

"The news would - if all the humans weren't so deathly afraid of things they didn't know yet. They're scared and hence they don't let it out, Elizabeth."

"Bob White and John Titor turned out to be hoaxes!" She counters.

"Yes, and the government only lets news out after they can form perfectly good stories about the particular person, and the other stories remain untold."

There was a long silence for a very long time.

"So you're still sticking with the story that you're from the future?"

He nodded vigorously.

"What year?"

"2071."

"Are there robots?"

His jaw dropped and he went pale. "Wh-what?" He stammered.

"Robots. You know," she imitates a robot with her hands bent, swaying them up and down and tilting her head to the side. "To help you out and stuff."

"Ye- yeah. There have been many advancements in modern technologies and many robots are there. The kind that you just imitated are the low models - they're government robots - they clean the city and stuff."

"Seems nice. It's weird to think that the world hasn't ended till 2071. I'm probably dead, though. Do you know me there? Wait, you recognized me, right? Does that mean I'm still alive?"

"You are." He said, almost carefully, like stepping on ice.

"Really? What am I like? Am I all wrinkly and stuff?" She laughs.

"I don't- I don't really know you though."

"But you recognized me!" She argues.

"You could say you're pretty famous. Or you were, at least."

She looks at him in shock. "Famous? What for? At 71, that too? What did I do?"

"I can't tell you everything like this, Eliza. I don't think I'm allowed to. The future warps itself every time we mold the past, and this is why people aren't really allowed to go back much. You're known for your artistic abilities. You can know that though."

She looks at him in awe. She liked to draw, and she most definitely had certain capabilities, you could say - but she would have never thought that she'd make herself famous. She'd never thought she had a future in arts - much less what Zen was telling her right now. It was unbelievable. Considering he was being honest, that is. And the way he was pretty much fluent in answering all her questions did make her believe him, even if she wouldn't have admitted that to him.

She gets up and looks outside the window. The rain had calmed down. She thinks about Zen. Maybe he was from the future. Maybe he wasn't. There wasn't anything she could say to prove he wasn't, but there wasn't anything that he'd done to prove he was, either.

"I believe you and all, but the rain has stopped and you need to go," she tells him, finally.

"I don't have anywhere to go!" he pleads.

"Well, what do you suggest? It's almost eight in the evening and you don't have anywhere to go? What am I supposed to do?"

He looks at her with hopeful eyes.

"No, no, no, no, no, no. No. You're not staying in my house. No. My parents aren't at home, and I barely know you, and no. You could be a murderer. No. That's a definite no."

"Elizabeth, we don't have any other choice, please."

"Yes, we do have a choice and it doesn't involve you sleeping in my house."

"We do?" He asks, a tone of curiosity in his voice.

"Yes. Get up and follow me."

And so he did.

She leads him through the corridor of her house to the door, and kicks him out.

"Eliza, please, I can't go back to the future, you gotta let me -"

With a bang, she slams the door in his face.

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

AUTHORS NOTE

Yes, I rewrote the whole chapter, and yes, I cannot continue writing in the first person. Though even just a little bit, Elizabeth seems a bit more mature in this chapter, and *cough* so do I.

Writing in the first person just doesn't - feel right. I hope you understand.

Again, tell me what you think of this chapter, and let me know your thoughts.
Give me criticism. Constructive criticism.

Feel free to point out any errors.

Tell me what you think about Zen and Elizabeth and the whole story line in general.
Is the style okay? Are my characters two dimensional? Just tell me.

Also : writing a novel is a bit exhausting.
Plus, I think I might get well enough to go back to school next week!
I'm preparing myself *faint laugh* with the topics I need to cover.
(by myself, might I add. Missing three weeks of school is painful in senior year.)

It's too much! But I have a week, so let's hope for the best!

Phoenix,
signing out with love.