text: [Themes: Slice of life, time travel, friendship, female protagonist, slice of life, life, dream]
  
  It's been over a year since you last set foot in this house. Your parents told you they were selling it a while ago now, downsizing to a smaller property, but the words never really felt real. A house is a house, permament and solid. But now you're here, and you can see all the bubblewrap, the cardboard boxes, the empty spaces where you can't remember what used to fill them but you know they definitely weren't just empty spaces. It's really happening.
  
  "We've almost finished upstairs," your mum says, bustling past you with a filled plastic bag in each hand. "There're just some things left in your old room - didn't know whether you still wanted them so I didn't throw them out yet." She pauses, looks at you just standing dumbly in the hallway, seeming like you've never been here before. Gently, she says, "You should probably go look before your dad gets to them. He'll definitely just chuck anything he finds."
  
  That's enough to nudge you out of your silent daze. "Oh, yeah, I'll take a look. Thanks, mum."
  
  Your mum heads out the front door with her bags, and you head up the stairs, running your hand along the bannister as you go. From the far end of the corridor, you can hear your dad shifting things around in the study. Your room is the first on the left. It's where you grew up, where countless memories were made, and nobody's used it since you moved out.
  
  You take a breath, and you go inside.
  
  The air feels stale. Afternoon sunlight filters in through half-opened curtains, illuminating a shaft of dust that cuts the space in two. Everything looks both completely different and entirely the same.
  
  On the floor just in front of the doorway, there's an empty bin bag - your mum must have left this here for you to put things in, things you were sure you wanted to throw out. You pick it up and shut the door behind you.
  
  On the right side of the room is your bed - or rather, bedframe, since the mattress is gone. Next to the end where the pillow would have been, there's a little bedside table. A wooden wardrobe sits in the far left corner. Beside it, there's a low chest of drawers. There's a window on the wall opposite the door, looking out onto the street. The light switch is on the wall next to the door, whilst the wall above the bed is covered in old blu-tac stains and one remaining sheet of paper.
  
  Almost all of your old stuff is gone - taken to your new flat in the city, or driven off to a charity shop - but you know there'll be a few remnants still here.
  
  [Author's Note: Nostalgia, jumping around in time, and clearing out your childhood room. It's been over a year since you were last home, and now it's time to finally clear out those last few things, and the memories they bring back.]
  
  > examine paper
  (the comic drawing)
  It's a comic strip you drew when you were eleven. The pencil is smudged and fading, so you carefully take it down from the wall to look at it more closely. At the top, in large, bubble letters, is the title: "THE MAGIC NOTEBOOK".
  
  At school, you'd started off being the quiet kid, who liked to stay indoors rather than go run around outside with the others. You'd had your wild imagination to keep you company, so you hadn't really minded the loneliness. Instead, you just wrote things, and you drew things, and you daydreamed about being a movie writer, or a famous book author, or a comic book artist, or - the list went on. When did those dreams slip away?
  
  This was one of the first comics you drew. If you tried hard enough to REMINISCE ON it, you could probably still remember where you were when you penned down the final panels...
  
  > Reminisce on comic
  You close your eyes, and you dive deep into the memory evoked by the comic drawing.
  
  You're eleven years old, and you're outside your primary school, in the yard for running around in during breaktimes. Your classmates are all around you, and behind you is the playground area, but nobody is playing. Instead, everyone is looking up at the roof of the main building.
  
  (You're somewhere different now - a difference place, a different time. You can sense that there's a lesson for you, at the end of this memory, but you can always PINCH yourself to go back to the present, and continue this memory later when you've learned more lessons.)
  
  "Oh no! Milo is stuck on the roof!" a girl with frizzy hair cries out, pointing at the roof.
  
  > examine Milo
  A small, grey tabby cat belonging to the headteacher. He is very cute, and far more popular with you all than his owner is. Nobody seems to know how he made it onto the roof, but he doesn't look happy about it. He peers over the edge, and miaows sadly.
  
  "How are we going to get him down?" a boy asks worriedly.
  
  > look at the roof
  You follow the crowd's gaze and look up at the roof. And there he is - Milo, the headteacher's cat, perched precariously close to the edge.
  
  "It's too high! How did he get up there?" someone exclaims.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  a magic notebook
  
  "We have to save him!" comes another cry.
  
  > climb the roof
  It's two storeys up, and you're not Spider Man. You do, however, have a magic notebook...
  
  You can hear everyone continue to panic about how to rescue Milo.
  
  > examine MAGIC
  Your magic notebook! Anything you sketch in this notebook appears in real life! You just have to DRAW something.
  
  You can hear everyone continue to panic about how to rescue Milo.
  
  > draw the ladder
  Good idea! You draw a huge ladder, filling up an entire page of your magic notebook, and then hold it up open to the sky.
  
  A few people look at you strangely, but then there's a collective gasp and they all turn back round - now, just in front of the school building - there's a giant ladder!
  
  "Woah!" everyone shouts.
  
  You run forward and climb the ladder, and soon you're onto the roof. Milo mews happily as you pick him up.
  
  "I've got him!" you say, and everyone cheers. You're a hero!
  
  A primary school classroom, with tables and blue plastic chairs arranged in rows. It's raining hard outside, for the third day in the row, so you and all your classmates are spending yet another lunchbreak indoors. But you don't mind that very much - you've been drawing your comic. Your class teacher, Miss Andrews, is at the front of the room.
  
  You're just finishing up the final panel - drawing the happy look on Milo's face as he's placed back down on the ground - when you hear a voice next to you.
  
  "What are you drawing? Can I see?" It's Maya, a girl with red hair. You haven't spoken with her much, but she's one of the louder kids in your class. Her question makes you nervous - you haven't shown anyone your comics before, and you find yourself afraid of what she might say.
  
  > examine Maya
  A girl with red hair. You haven't spoken with her much, but she's one of the louder kids in your class.
  
  > look at the miss andrews
  Your Year 6 class teacher, brown hair in a bun. She's reading a newspaper at her desk and occasionally looking up to see what you're all doing.
  
  > talk to Maya
  "Uhhhm, it's kind of private..." you reply uncertainly, feeling your heart beating in your chest.
  
  "Aw, please?" Maya says, blinking her eyes.
  
  > talk to Maya
  A part of you wants to say yes, but you're just too nervous about it. "Maybe tomorrow?" you offer, but Maya is still unsatisfied.
  
  "Pretty please?" she tries.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  a comic drawing
  
  > Examine comic
  You've been working on this comic during breaktimes all this week. You're so happy it's finally finished!
  
  > talk to Maya
  You open your mouth again, trying to say yes, but your nerves still get the better of you. Maya pouts at you, and shows no signs of leaving.
  
  > Pinch
  Maybe you can't reach the end of this memory just yet. You pinch yourself hard, and open your eyes.
  
  On the right side of the room is your bed - or rather, bedframe, since the mattress is gone. Next to the end where the pillow would have been, there's a little bedside table. A wooden wardrobe sits in the far left corner. Beside it, there's a low chest of drawers. There's a window on the wall opposite the door, looking out onto the street. The light switch is on the wall next to the door, whilst the wall above the bed is covered in old blu-tac stains.
  
  > open the drawers
  You start opening up each drawer in turn. They're all empty until you reach the fifth one - in there, you see a green paper folder. This was the drawer you used to keep old school notes and books in. You took pleasure in shredding most of your notes after your final school exams, so you're surprised that whatever this is has survived. You pick it up and shut the drawer again.
  
  > look at the folder
  Made of green card, it has your name scrawled on the front in black biro. You open it up, and now you remember what this is - it's a folder you put in the few things you were proud enough of not
  to shred with everything else. There's not that much in here: a couple pages of unusually neat revision notes, a certificate from a school art competition, and - ah, yes.
  
  You haven't seen this bundle of pages for a good few years, but it's immediately familiar: a twenty-page report you had to write for your Physics coursework at sixth form college. You almost got full marks on it, even your teacher was surprised.
  
  Still, it had been a close call. If you were to REMINISCE ON the report, you bet you could picture yourself the day of the deadline...
  
  > look under the bed
  You kneel down and reach a hand underneath the bed. Your arm emerges covered in dust, and in your hand - is your old teddy bear.
  
  > examine the bear
  He's definitely seen better days; one of his eyes is hanging a little loose, and his fur is uneven and matted, thanks to the various beverages that have been spilled on him over the years. But still, the threaded smile on his little bear face is intact, and seeing him again after all this time makes you smile too.
  
  You used to sleep with him tucked under your arm every night. As a child you had been... embarrassingly terrified of the dark. Even leaving the light on stopped keeping the nightmares away, after that one time you caught your dad sneaking in to turn it off when he thought you'd fallen asleep. No. The only cure... had been good old Mr Cuddles.
  
  You'd almost forgotten all about your old nightmares, but this bear brings the memories right back. You reckon if you tried hard enough to REMINISCE ON him, you could picture them...
  
  > reminisce on the teddy
  You close your eyes, and you dive deep into the memory evoked by the teddy bear.
  
  For a moment, you're falling. You have no sense of speed, there's no rush of air against your skin, just that lurching feeling in your stomach. Then you hit the floor - gently, somehow - and you open your eyes.
  
  All you see is darkness. No, blackness. The falling feeling
  in your gut might be gone, but it's replaced by something worse - fear.
  
  (You're somewhere different now - a difference place, a different time. You can sense that there's a lesson for you, at the end of this memory, but you can always PINCH yourself to go back to the present, and continue this memory later when you've learned more lessons.)
  
  You hear a noise in the distance.
  
  > listen
  You hear nothing unexpected.
  
  The noise is closer now - it sounds like a low mechanical rumble.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying nothing.
  
  Still, the ominous noise gets ever louder, and something tells you that you really don't want to find out what it is - you feel the urge to get away.
  
  > run
  You'll have to say which compass direction to go in.
  
  You can still hear it, something, slowly, inevitably, moving towards you.
  
  > Go outside
  If you want to get out of the memory, you can PINCH yourself.
  
  For a second, there's silence - but then the sound is back, closer.
  
  > Go north
  You stumble blindly, with your arms stretched out before you.
  
  Everything is still pitch black, and you feel like you can't even move in a straight line when there's nothing to help you keep your bearings.
  
  You cover your ears for a little while, just to drown out the noise. You need to move.
  
  > Go north
  You keep moving, disorientated and afraid.
  
  Dark as ever, but it feels like the ground is sloping downwards.
  
  You can still hear it, something, slowly, inevitably, moving towards you.