Hey guys! It's been awhile. I'm excited to announce that I will be doing a Days rewrite! I've been thinking about doing this for awhile, and here it is! I have some great ideas that should be fun to share.

I will be uploading the rewrite as a completely new story called Day After Day.

Below is a portion of the first chapter. Expect it to be the same...but different ;)

Chapter One: A Day Very Much Longer than Most Days

Therapy is stupid.

You walk into a room, sit down across some mister or missus, and they ask about how you feel.

From then on, you either a) awkwardly squirm and try to express yourself, or b) give the millennium old lie of "I'm okay. Can I leave now?" Either way, everything feels weird (and you can't leave), and the therapist thinks you're crazy enough to buy another session.

Or, maybe I'm being biased. Mom always called 'one of those skeptics.' Therapy works for a ton of people. At least, that's what the magazines say. That's probably why Mom sent me here in the first place. She loves magazines. Though, she prefers modeling for them over actually reading them. Although, the magazine photographers like models more typically if they actually know what they're posing for—I'm getting off topic. Anyway, the therapy I'm having right now sucks.

"Adelaide, please try to focus. You've been staring at the wall for almost fifteen minutes, ignoring me. Please, tell me, or I'll have to call your mother: how have your recent prescriptions been working out?"

Ouch. I guess just daydreaming wasn't the answer to these mandatory sessions.

If I were honest, I would say 'Prescriptions? I'm substance free, m'lady.'

But that would be too simple, too boring. This woman and my mom would nag me about the importance of proper medication until Armageddon.

I refocused on the women in front of me. Older, in her late fifties, maybe early sixties. Her brown hair was almost completely gray. She almost looked as bored as I was. Almost.

"Pretty good." I lied with a smile, "When I take them before bed, I get to dream about Errol Flynn. He lets me use his bow…sometimes."

The therapist frowned. I guess she wasn't a fan of a certain man in green stealing wealth for the poor. "Now, dearie, don't use that tone with me." She said.

"Oh, I'm being completely serious." I kept going with the façade, my tone remaining friendly yet entirely thoughtful, "How do you think I'd look in green?" I gestured towards my plain, casual attire (I was wearing red), "Can women grow goatees? I still need to make a Christmas list. Is it too early? I mean, it is January. But, the early bird catches the pre-orders!"

Now the shrink was confused and struggling to keep up with my chatty act and faux fascination of Robin Hood. I was dominating this nonexistent battle of wits. Her mouth parted as if she was about to say somethi-

"-Do you think I could pull off that gaze of his? Y'know the one where he justs," I looked, tilting my head slightly towards the left, and finally focusing on the corner where the walls and roof met, just diagonal of me, "looks into the distance?"

"Do you enjoy old movies, Adelaide?"

"They're alright, ma'am. I just," I looked directly into her eyes, "wanted to relate to you. Try to make connections. You seem to like the classics."

"Are you implying that I'm old?"

Ooh boy, this is where it gets fun.

The women paused, then shook her head, "Fine. This isn't going anywhere." She said earnestly, "I'll change the topic, since this one seems to cause discomfort. How do you feel about moving to Japan to live with your father?"

I stood straight up out of my plushy chair and looked at an imaginary watch.

"Oh wow, look at the time, ladies and gentlemen, it's—"

Ding

"—time to unfasten your seatbelts and check your carry-on items. Ladies and gentlemen, I repeat, we have landed in Japan and it is time—"

My eyes creaked open. People shuffled. An engine rumbled. Seat belts unclipped. The voice on the speaker kept repeating and repeating. I guess that's how it got into my dream. Or maybe I would call that a light nightmare. I paused mid-blink. That's an oxymoron. I resumed my groggy blinking as I stretched my arms out into the open air and peeked out of the window of the flight. After over twelve hours of airtime, we had just landed on solid ground in Japan.

"Yippee," I mumbled, grabbing my things and joining the line of the myriad of people trying to exit the aircraft and touch Japanese soil.

Just another long day.

A/N: Short, not a lot of action, I know (only 500 words?), but it's a sneak preview. Expect the first chapter of the actual new story to be up within the next few hours. Thanks!