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Never Grow Up

By Sarah Lyn Guillen All Rights Reserved ©

Fantasy / Romance


Alana Meyers, a hard working and beautiful young woman who despite loosing her parents at an early age, is incredibly independent and remarkably self sufficient. Now a big corporate president for a toy making company, she has missed out on her entire childhood to become successful, and claims to have no regrets about it, or does she? A run in with a strange witch has her stranded and alone in the Big Apple, leaving her to start over again in a different form. Allowing her to find new love in different forms, and experience the life she deprived her self of. What must Alana do to get her life back on track? Will she get her new love interest to understand she is not who he thinks she is? What will happen to her company while she is missing?

Chapter 1

“Hurry up Alana, or you’ll be late for school!” my mother yells. I rush to put my shoes on and my coat.

“Hurry Alana or we’ll leave you behind!” she yells again. I turn to see my mother and father going out the door, so I get up and run without tying my shoes.

“No! Wait for me!” my child-like voice screams. I run towards them and the closer I get, the farther they are from my reaching hand. I stop and find myself crying.

“WAIT FOR ME!” I cry.

I wake up. I’m perspiring from a dream that has haunted me since they died. I remember it well: they left to the grocery store and were gone for hours. When Grandma started to

get worried, she called the store and asked if any credit card under the name Sharon or Eric Meyers had been used. When the manager told her no one had used a credit card under that name, she immediately hung up and called the police.

They never got to the grocery store because some idiot in a Mercedes-Benz was speeding and swung his car around a left turn and hit my parents who were driving the opposite direction. They died instantly.

In a way, I’m grateful they didn’t suffer a horrible death, but in many ways, I regret how it’s affected me. After they died, I became very self sufficient, and a little bossy. I didn’t have many friends growing up and wasn’t very bothered by it, because all I wanted was to be my own boss, and not be distracted by anybody or anything. Sounds terrible, I know, but because of it, I am the President of a large corporation that makes toys for rich, and over privileged children.

Many people have described me as: a perfectionist, workaholic, irreverent, and bitter. Not that peoples’ opinions really bother me...

But something very unusual has happened to me, and I think it might have something to do with the way I am. I was twenty-eight this morning, and somehow became a seven year old in the afternoon.

I can’t explain what happened. I was trying to cross the street in a hurry until an old woman asked for my help to cross, and I was very irritated by this request on account of my rushing. She didn’t look or seem unusual, she looked like any ordinary old woman. So I helped her, and practically dragged her across because of my disposition. After we’d finished crossing, she yanked my hair and began chanting strange words to me, until suddenly, my clothes felt loose on my skin, and everything seemed bigger. I looked down, and my nice burgundy red suit and skirt were draped on the floor. I pulled up my arm to see that the sleeves were too long.

“What happened?! What did you do to me?!” I exclaimed.

“Maybe you’ll figure it out after spending some time as a seven year old.” The old woman told me, and disappeared like smoke in the air. There was no one on the street to witness this, so I began to panic. I left my skirt behind, held onto my suit tightly to cover myself, and began to run.

So now, I am sitting in the waiting area of a police station, after being caught in my own apartment.

Okay, let me back up a bit.

After waking up this morning, I looked at the clock that read 7:01 am, and panicked! I was going to be one minute late for work! I rushed to the bathroom, vigorously brushed my teeth, washed my hair, and blow dried it. I checked myself for any imperfections, and sighed after looking at my pale face, with a pair of brown eyes, and dark brown hair. I rushed out of my apartment and hailed a taxi. The driver stops for me without hesitation, and says:

“What’s a woman like you doing in a neighborhood like this?” I ignored him and got into the cab.

Once I got to work, I greeted a co-worker of mine named Carina Fuentes, a very tall, lovely woman, with long brown hair, and green eyes, who I’ve come to trust. She has a habit of gesturing her arms and hands every time she talks; this doesn’t bother me, but it amuses me.

“Alana, you’re early today,” Carina said, putting her finger to her chin.

“What? No, I’m late. Remember: early is on time, and on time is late.” I said.

“Yeah, well,” Carina said as she put her hands to her hips, “are you ready to close the deal with that Chinese company? I hear they can be tough negotiators when it comes to selling their products to foreign industries.”

“Of course, I’ve been preparing for this deal for weeks, and nothing is going to stop me from making this deal,” I replied with confidence. Carina stared at me for a while and folded her arms.

“Not even your grandmothers’ anniversary? It’s today, isn’t it?” she finally said and I became dumbstruck and froze with a stupid smile on my face.

“Oh, God! Don’t tell me you forgot?!” Carina said while dropping her arms. I looked at her and lost my breath. My grandmother was the one who raised me after my parents died. She died when I was nineteen. I’ve always brought her white lilies on February 5th, today! How could I forget?! I rushed to my office leaving Carina standing in front of it; puzzled. I stumbled out my office putting on my coat.

“I’ll be back, I’m just going down the street to get some flowers.” I explained.

“Right now? You can’t! The meeting is in an hour! How are you going to make it back in that amount of time in Downtown New York?!” Carina reprimanded me like a child. Suddenly I regret ever telling her anything about my life.

“I’ve never had a problem hailing a taxi, and don’t worry, I’ll make it on time. Nevertheless, I have to get some fresh lilies now before they run out,” I told her. Carina’s angry face

calms down a bit, and she simply said: “On time is late.” I smirked a little at my own preaching earlier.

“I’ll be back.”

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