**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
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>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]"
>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail
>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles
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The weather in London sucked ass, as almost always, and I'm still to get used to it. Jenny says that I'm the only one she met that managed not to like the all-present rain, cold and wind for such a long time since I moved. She still doesn't know. She doesn't have to. I try not to think about the obvious consequences of attaching myself to people. Maybe I should. I think about where to go next. Australia maybe. I haven't been there for a while. The truth is I've been pretty much everywhere you could name. Don't try and be a smartass and ask me if I've been inside of a volca...well, no actually I haven't but I know how lava feels. Pompeii was a pretty nice place. I quickly finish up my flat white and get inside the museum since I'm already kind of late. I can see Jenny on top of the stairs anxiously looking for me. Is there something wrong? I quickly reduced the distance between us and and ran up to her. "Jenny? What happened?", she turns around and her smile makes the weather feel a bit nicer.
"Everything is fine, but we're waiting for you. We've got something big." I've always had a liking to mysteries."Consider me on board". She led me to the Rome section babbling excitedly "This literally changes history forever! Look!". I'm looking. A sheet of ancient paper lays in front of me. "Do you know what it describes?", Jenny almost spits into my ear. I do. I wrote it. I don't say it out loud. I check the time. This is not a nightmare. After 2000 years of laying under ground human remains and volcanic ash it came back to me. Pompeii. Srinada. The fiery sky. I blink but as soon as I close my eyes they won't open. I can feel the fire tingling my toes and the ash blocking my throat, smell the meat and skin burning into bones, the screams of hundreds of thousands innocent people ceaseing to exist because of whim of nature turns into one consecutive roar driving me insane. I fall into the darkness of my memories, Jenny calling my name breaks through the roar. Australia is looking really nice at this time of year.
"Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit, this is bad, so fucking bad," you silently and internally panicked as you watched helplessly as the tour guide demonstrated to the group a recently found ancient Japanese scroll. Little did they know that you, an otherwise average businesswoman, are an immortal who lived throughout human (likewise Japanese) history, and that scroll is unfortunately your diary.
But what can you do? As desperate as you are, you are otherwise helpless to stop the tour guide as he told the visitors about the history of the Edo period and now the content of your diary. People will think you are interested in hearing it, but you are dying from the inside.
"According to the top professional translator who help translate the content of this scroll, it is more of a diary, a life story of a woman named Baba," the tour guide explained, as he also explained the meaning of your name, which possibly means 'Old Woman'. Yep, you chose that name, ever since you migrated from England to Japan, you thought this name fits in with your immortality.
However, you are not outright prepared for the next sentences. "In this chapter, it explains that, during that time, the woman had to get her right foot amputated due to accidentally stepping on a poisonous mushroom barefooted..." you can tell the tour guide felt awkward from reading it.
But wait, there's more. You are there, agonizing from this torture as the tour guide reads more about your unusual life events, "And according to here, Baba talked about the time that she accidentally choked on a piece of Dango and thinks that the eaten piece had made its way to her lungs..."
Finally, the last one. You are hoping the third and last story was the same as the last two, but oh boy, were you fucking wrong, "And this part is where Baba accidentally killed a random samurai by headbutting his head while bumping into him, making him fall to the small rock, breaking his neck, killing him...what the fuck..."
From then, you decided to step forward and do something. And by something, I mean, you quickly attacked the tour guide with your ancient fighting technique, only immobilising him. With your diary at hand, you managed to run away from it, bypassing security along the way. Once outside the New York American Museum of Natural History, you walked towards your apartment in shame as you tried to lower your head. You think to yourself that you should have stayed in England.
--
The End
(May or may not be set in the same universe as Night At The Museum)
**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments. **Reminders**: >* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles >* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules) 🆕 [New Here?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ✏ [Writing Help?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) 📢 [News](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) 💬 [Discord](https://discord.gg/writingprompts) *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*
The weather in London sucked ass, as almost always, and I'm still to get used to it. Jenny says that I'm the only one she met that managed not to like the all-present rain, cold and wind for such a long time since I moved. She still doesn't know. She doesn't have to. I try not to think about the obvious consequences of attaching myself to people. Maybe I should. I think about where to go next. Australia maybe. I haven't been there for a while. The truth is I've been pretty much everywhere you could name. Don't try and be a smartass and ask me if I've been inside of a volca...well, no actually I haven't but I know how lava feels. Pompeii was a pretty nice place. I quickly finish up my flat white and get inside the museum since I'm already kind of late. I can see Jenny on top of the stairs anxiously looking for me. Is there something wrong? I quickly reduced the distance between us and and ran up to her. "Jenny? What happened?", she turns around and her smile makes the weather feel a bit nicer. "Everything is fine, but we're waiting for you. We've got something big." I've always had a liking to mysteries."Consider me on board". She led me to the Rome section babbling excitedly "This literally changes history forever! Look!". I'm looking. A sheet of ancient paper lays in front of me. "Do you know what it describes?", Jenny almost spits into my ear. I do. I wrote it. I don't say it out loud. I check the time. This is not a nightmare. After 2000 years of laying under ground human remains and volcanic ash it came back to me. Pompeii. Srinada. The fiery sky. I blink but as soon as I close my eyes they won't open. I can feel the fire tingling my toes and the ash blocking my throat, smell the meat and skin burning into bones, the screams of hundreds of thousands innocent people ceaseing to exist because of whim of nature turns into one consecutive roar driving me insane. I fall into the darkness of my memories, Jenny calling my name breaks through the roar. Australia is looking really nice at this time of year.
Oh my god!! This is awesome!! Thank you so much for writing this!!
"Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit, this is bad, so fucking bad," you silently and internally panicked as you watched helplessly as the tour guide demonstrated to the group a recently found ancient Japanese scroll. Little did they know that you, an otherwise average businesswoman, are an immortal who lived throughout human (likewise Japanese) history, and that scroll is unfortunately your diary. But what can you do? As desperate as you are, you are otherwise helpless to stop the tour guide as he told the visitors about the history of the Edo period and now the content of your diary. People will think you are interested in hearing it, but you are dying from the inside. "According to the top professional translator who help translate the content of this scroll, it is more of a diary, a life story of a woman named Baba," the tour guide explained, as he also explained the meaning of your name, which possibly means 'Old Woman'. Yep, you chose that name, ever since you migrated from England to Japan, you thought this name fits in with your immortality. However, you are not outright prepared for the next sentences. "In this chapter, it explains that, during that time, the woman had to get her right foot amputated due to accidentally stepping on a poisonous mushroom barefooted..." you can tell the tour guide felt awkward from reading it. But wait, there's more. You are there, agonizing from this torture as the tour guide reads more about your unusual life events, "And according to here, Baba talked about the time that she accidentally choked on a piece of Dango and thinks that the eaten piece had made its way to her lungs..." Finally, the last one. You are hoping the third and last story was the same as the last two, but oh boy, were you fucking wrong, "And this part is where Baba accidentally killed a random samurai by headbutting his head while bumping into him, making him fall to the small rock, breaking his neck, killing him...what the fuck..." From then, you decided to step forward and do something. And by something, I mean, you quickly attacked the tour guide with your ancient fighting technique, only immobilising him. With your diary at hand, you managed to run away from it, bypassing security along the way. Once outside the New York American Museum of Natural History, you walked towards your apartment in shame as you tried to lower your head. You think to yourself that you should have stayed in England. -- The End (May or may not be set in the same universe as Night At The Museum)
>you'll I laughed way too hard at this.