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MidReal Story
The Curious Girl In The Past
Scenario:Avreen a girl from our modern world finds herself stuck in 17th century restoration london with a modern american accent and a modern look and clothes she tries to survive in this journey and on her way meets alot of scientists and public figures such as newton hooke,evelyn,wren ,pepys and boyle and she is stuck in the body of a ten year old while she was 16 in her time line. Join us as she discovers the new setting without revealing her identity Avreen shahzaman a beutiful real pale girl almost papper white skin tone with silk straight long thick very dark black hair that covers her foreheadand central hetrochromiac dark black eyes with some grey in the middle with rose lips and cheeks looks like a doll and always wears black and white clothes sometimes there is an ted and grey
She is an american from an egyptian persian father and a malay japanese mother moved recently to uk she has travelled to many places including Japan Korea China Russia Egypt Germany Spain france Turkey Iran and Malaysia she speaks most of these languages fluently she is a top student and really passionate about math and physics she also likes history to some exctent she likes to draw read sing and dance witch she is really good at them and she also play piano and violen she is athletic and physically strong learned kung fu before also played gymnastics
Honest royal truthful sweet and funny is really good at making planes and collecting information introverted and awkward reluctant but determind curious confident and uderstanding
Despite being sweet she is really cold and emotionless to people she don't know and barely smiles in public she gets irritated easly and is really sarcastic and likes to annoy and rebellious
She is so awkward and panics at small things tend to overthink and make it look like the end of the World when small bad things happen she likes Babies and children
She uses 'whatever' and 'I don't care' alot even when she deeply cares
Her life before was almost perfect a top student with some real close friends her father an invistigator who warkwd for a while with the fbi taught her alot about how to read people's body language find gaps connect dots solve mistries she liked criminology and watched alot of documents about it
Her mother a successful business woman taught her a more psychological side how to persuade manipulate and talk to people also how to control their sub consciousness her older brother zain who studied in harvard is an engineer teaching her mechanics ai machine building and robotics
She has a younger sister 4 year old miral she is a cinnamon roll and today is this cinnamon rolls birthday her brother who travels alot for work is coming she has a real deap connection with him but that day she is wearing a japanese black and white sailor uniform with a red bow and a sailor hat to surprise her sister who was born in japan an awful accident happened and avreen is pretty sure she is dead so why is she now awake in a weird place with the same uniform but smaller to fit her 10 year old self nobody knows n
The setting is a very acurate description of 17th century London and of personalities of people
The story is in first person point of view.
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Avreen Shahzaman
She is a 16yearold girl from modernday America,with an EgyptianPersian father and MalayJapanese mother. She is intelligent,sarcastic,and curious. Avreen finds herself transported to 17th century London,where she struggles to understand her surroundings. She meets scientists like Isaac Newton and Robert Hooke,and encounters historical figures like Samuel Pepys. Her journey involves navigating a strange new world,while trying to maintain her identity and adapt to a different time period.
Isaac Newton
He is a renowned mathematician and physicist in 17th century London. He is brilliant,eccentric,and absentminded. Newton struggles with smallscale mishaps,such as spilling tea when a girl accidentally jostles him. He recognizes Avreen's presence as a mysterious child,but doesn't recognize her as the adult she actually is. His interactions with Avreen reveal his passion for science and his quirky personality in dealing with everyday situations.
Miral Shahzaman
She is Avreen's 4yearold sister. She is playful,innocent,and affectionate. Miral loves her big sister despite not seeing her often due to their father's work schedule. On her birthday,Miral wears a traditional Japanese dress similar to Avreen's childhood attire. Her innocence provides a sense of normalcy in Avreen's life as she navigates her unexpected journey in the past.
I don't know how I got here.
I was in my room, changing clothes, and then I went to my brother's room to give him the papers he needed, and he wasn't there; he was in his car on his way to the airport.
I wanted to go say goodbye, but he told me not to bother and to take care of miral instead.
So I went back home and stayed there, watching TV and waiting for my mom to call and tell me about how her meeting went.
Then I went to bed early, and now I'm here.
I have no idea how I got here or where "here" is.
It looks like a street in the 17th or 18th century.
People are walking around in old clothes, and carriages are passing by with horses neighing.
I can't believe this; it has to be a dream.
I'm so confused; I don't know what's going on.
I look down at myself and notice that I'm wearing a japanese black and white sailor uniform with a red bow and a sailor hat; it's way too big for me.
I look around, trying to get an idea of where I am and what's going on, but I have no clue.
This uniform looks exactly like the one my sister miral wore on her birthday years ago when she was four. And I look 10 tho I was 16
My heart is pounding as I scan the busy street, watching people staring at my strange clothes.
A group of women in long dresses whisper and point in my direction.
Two street vendors stop their haggling to gawk.
I spot a narrow gap between two timber-framed buildings, barely visible behind a cart loaded with hay.
Moving carefully to avoid the mud puddles and horse droppings, I edge sideways toward the alley.
The rough wooden walls scrape against my oversized sailor uniform as I squeeze through.
The alley is dark and damp, smelling of rotting vegetables and chamber pots.
A faint glimmer at the far end beckons, promising answers or perhaps more questions.
I edge forward, my now-small feet carefully stepping over broken pottery and rotting vegetables.
The sailor uniform's hem drags through the muck despite my best efforts.
Ahead, the glimmer resolves into daylight reflecting off a window.
Through the grimy glass, I glimpse a cluttered room filled with brass instruments and glass vessels - some kind of workshop or laboratory.
A hunched figure moves inside, arranging equipment on a wooden bench.
My heart races as I recognize the distinctive profile from history books.
It's Robert Hooke himself, and he's looking right at me through the grimy glass.
I force myself to break eye contact and continue walking, though my legs feel wooden.
His curious gaze follows me as I pass his window.
My oversized sailor uniform drags in the muck.
I focus on placing one foot carefully in front of the other, maintaining my usual blank expression despite my racing thoughts.
What modern kid wouldn't want to meet a famous scientist?
But my child-sized body and strange clothes would only draw unwanted attention.
I need to find a way back before this world swallows me whole.
I quicken my pace, my heart pounding in my chest.
The cobblestones are slick beneath my feet, and the sailor uniform keeps catching on loose stones.
I duck under a low-hanging wooden beam, hoping to lose whoever is following me.
The alley opens into a small courtyard where washing hangs between buildings.
I pause to catch my breath, leaning against a damp stone wall.
My shoulders tense at the sound of light footsteps approaching.
Before I can run, someone touches my shoulder.
I spin around, fists clenched, only to find myself face-to-face with a girl about my apparent age.
The girl steps back, startled by my American accent.
She's wearing a plain brown dress, her blonde hair tucked under a dirty white cap.
Her bare feet are caked with mud, and she clutches a woven basket filled with wet linens.
My modern instincts tell me to smile and appear friendly, but I force myself to keep my expression neutral.
She fidgets with the handle of her basket, her eyes darting between my strange uniform and my face.
"Miss, I thought you might need help finding your way," she says in a thick Cockney accent.
"These alleys can be dangerous for a fine lady like yourself."
I study her reaction as my smile softens my previously guarded expression.
The girl shifts the heavy laundry basket to her other hip, her bare feet sinking slightly in the mud.
"I'm lost," I admit, keeping my voice gentle despite my jarring American accent.
The girl's shoulders relax, though her eyes still dart to my unusual sailor uniform.
"I'm Mary," she says, her voice a little stronger now.
"I work for the household connected to this courtyard. I can show you a safer route through the neighborhood if you'd like."
I nod, grateful for any help I can get.
As we walk, I notice that Mary's hands are raw and red from washing.
I reach for the handle of her heavy laundry basket, my smaller arms straining against the wet fabric's weight.
Mary hesitates, clearly torn between proper manners and accepting help from a strange foreign child in odd clothes.
"Please," I insist, my American accent making her eyes widen again.
"You've offered to help me. Let me help you too."
After a moment's pause, she lets me take half the load, and we walk side by side through the winding alleys.
I grip the damp laundry tighter as we emerge from the narrow passage into a wider cobblestone street.
The street is filled with horse-drawn carts and people in period clothing hurrying past.
My sailor uniform feels more conspicuous in the open, and several passersby pause to stare.
A merchant loudly hawks fresh fish from his cart, while a group of children chase a hoop down the street.
Mary shifts her half of the laundry and points to a three-story timber house across the way.
"That's where I work," she says, her Cockney accent thick and rich.
I glance over my shoulder, catching sight of Robert Hooke's figure moving through the crowd behind us.
I keep my eyes fixed ahead while walking with Mary, though I can feel Hooke's gaze burning into my back.
The weight of the damp laundry strains my small arms as we approach the timber house.
My sailor uniform draws more whispers from passersby, but I maintain my blank expression, refusing to betray my inner excitement at seeing the famous scientist.
When Mary pauses to adjust her basket, I risk a quick glance over my shoulder.
Hooke still watches from the crowd, his head tilted slightly in curiosity.
Setting down the laundry basket near the house's entrance, I lean close to Mary's ear while pretending to adjust my uniform.
"See that man watching us?" I murmur.
"He's Robert Hooke, the scientist. I heard he's working on something incredible in his workshop."
Mary's eyes widen as she glances over her shoulder.
Hooke is still watching, but he turns away, disappearing into the crowd before she can get a good look.
I point down the street, past the timber house.
"If you look through his window, you can see some brass instruments and strange contraptions. I wonder what he's inventing this time."
Mary clutches her damp apron tighter, clearly torn between her curiosity and her duties.
She nods slowly, her eyes flickering with a newfound spark of intrigue.
I lean against the rough wall of the timber house, pretending to help Mary sort the wet laundry while scanning the crowded street.
My small fingers fumble with the heavy fabric as I spot Hooke emerging from behind a fruit cart.
He walks purposefully toward us, his dark coat swishing with each step, brass instruments glinting at his belt.
Mary tugs my sleeve, whispering that we should go inside before we attract more attention.
But I stand my ground, my heart pounding in my chest.
My modern knowledge screams that this is Robert Hooke - the genius who discovered cells and made groundbreaking contributions to physics and architecture.
Hooke stops three feet away, his eyes studying my strange sailor uniform.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I step forward from the timber house wall, leaving Mary and her laundry behind.
My small feet move deliberately across the muddy street, my sailor uniform dragging in the muck as I approach Hooke.
I keep my face blank, just like I practiced in front of the mirror.
"Mr. Hooke," I say clearly in my American accent, "I'm Avreen. I've seen your work through your workshop window - the brass instruments and experiments are fascinating."
His eyebrows rise at my direct approach and foreign speech.
I give a small curtsy, remembering the period etiquette I studied.
"My apologies for disturbing you, sir."
My heart pounds at meeting such a historical figure, but I keep my voice steady.
I hold my breath as Hooke studies me, his eyes lingering on my sailor uniform.
He strokes his chin thoughtfully before gesturing toward the end of the alley, where his workshop door is visible.
"Perhaps you'd like to see my latest work with the microscope?" he asks, his voice deep and measured.
My heart leaps, but I force myself to respond calmly.
"That would be an honor, sir."
Behind me, Mary clutches her laundry basket tighter, shaking her head in a silent protest.
I ignore her warning and follow Hooke through the crowded street, matching his measured pace despite my excitement.
As we reach the workshop door, Hooke pauses, glancing back with a knowing smile that promises secrets beyond imagination.
I follow Hooke through the heavy wooden door into his cramped workshop, ducking under hanging brass instruments that dangle from the low ceiling.
The room smells of metal and oil, with sunlight filtering through grimy windows onto workbenches crowded with tools and half-finished contraptions.
Glass vials filled with various liquids line shelves, while copper wires and springs spill from open drawers.
My child-sized hands itch to touch the fascinating equipment, but I keep them clasped behind my back as I follow Hooke deeper into the workshop.
He gestures to a wooden stool beside his main workbench, where a brass microscope sits amidst scattered papers covered in detailed sketches of cells and microscopic structures.
I carefully perch on the seat, my sailor uniform still dripping mud from our walk through the street.
Hooke leans over the microscope, adjusting its focus with practiced precision.
"You mentioned seeing my work from the window," he says, glancing at me with curiosity. "Tell me, Avreen, what do you know of these tiny worlds?"
I hesitate, choosing my words carefully. "More than you'd expect, sir," I reply, a hint of a smile playing on my lips.
Hooke chuckles, his eyes twinkling with intrigue.
"Very well, then. Let us see what wonders lie beneath the lens."
He places a thin slice of cork under the microscope's lens, his fingers moving deftly.
I lean forward, my dirty sailor uniform threatening to brush against his papers.
The musty air of the workshop fills my lungs as I watch him work.
Hooke straightens, his voice growing animated.
"You see, Avreen, this cork is not solid as it appears. Under the microscope, it reveals tiny chambers, like the cells of a honeycomb."
He steps back, offering me a glimpse through the eyepiece.