Trading Places!!! still not finished

Wow! I would LOVE to trade places with someone for a day. The only problem is who I would trade places with. Here are some of my ideas:
1) Hermione or some other friend of Harry and Ron's at Hogwarts! (I love Harry Potter!!!)
2) Stephanie Horton (so I could finally see what her basement looks like).
3) A bird, so I can fly, which I fervently want to be able to do with every pore and cell of my being.
4) Any ultra-famous celebrity (so I could see what being famous is like)
5) Juno from "Juno", because her best friend Leah is incredibly funny and cool, her co-best friend-turned-lover-turned-boyfriend is indubitably and unequivocally awesome and sweet and cool in the truest meaning of the word, and because her dad and step-mom are also extremely great characters.
6) A pirate because for some reason the thought of being a pirate appeals to me in a big way.

Well, since I cannot possibly decide, I will do several mini-stories. #1!

One dark and gloomy night, Kit was lying on her bed, pondering the reason for existence, meaning of life, and spirituality when she heard a knock upon her door. The coat-hanger rattled on the door and the noise was complemented nicely by a dramatic flash of electricity through the air, which seemed to radiate through her windows and into her body. "Wha-at?" she yelled in athe direction of the door, assuming it was one of her brothers, come to ask to borrow something or to summon her for dinner. The door swung upon slightly. "I'm coming, I'll be down in a minute," she said, her voice laced with boredom. Very unusually, however, the door opened more. "May I enter?" asked the rumbling tenor.
Kit sat bolt upright. "Wait. Who's there? Shay?..." but the door opened before she could finish her thought. There, standing in her doorframe, silhouetted against the pitch-blackness, was a figure she did not recognize. Tall and strong-looking, with long, thick tresses sprouting from under his cap, his upper lip, and his chin, his shockingly emerald velvet suit was the last element of his appearance Kit noticed.
Usually in times of great shock or stress, Kit found that her nose would itch and she would grow wide-eyed, soon changing to blinking rapidly. she was already in the nose-rubbing, eye-blinking stage by the time she finally found her voice. "Who are you?" she inquired, her voice quivering and squeaky. "I hope I have not frightened you," the strange man replied, smiling ingratiatingly and seating himself in her wicker chair in a most affable fashion. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. We have been watching your progress for quite some time now, and have recently determined that you are, most certainly, magical. Please forgive us for not having contacted you earlier, but it is of utmost importance that we did not act wrongly, as people usually do when acting with haste."
Kit raised her eyebrows. Staying very still, she yelled, "Moooom??"
"Do not worry, my dear, I have already spoken to your parents. They are -- well -- taken care of, for the time being, they themselves are totally fine and view this situation as such. Now, I have come to ask you if you would like to spend some time at Hogwarts -- a school for wizards and witches, you being one of the latter. Just to try out, of course; we always have some late-entrants who prefer to opt out of our manner of life. However, most of our Muggle-born" -- "What?" thought Kit -- "...entrants have been very successful. Some of the more famous figures are Harry Potter, who would be in the same year as you, and Lord V-- er, well, several others as well."
"Hah!" Kit screamed, slightly hysterically. "You just -- just come in here, drug my parents, I don't have a clue who the heck you are or what asylum you escaped and you're trying to spirit me away and telling me I'm magical? You could be a child-molesting drug lord for all I know, and now you're trying to -- I -- telling me I'm magical and -- You better watch out, I'm going to call the police, and I've got a dog downstairs so fearsome I'm surprised he hasn't already ripped your limbs off, I'm going to get him right n--"
"SILENCE," commanded the man who called himself Dumbledore. From one of his coat pockets he extracted a short, slender stick of wood. He gave it a casual flick, and nothing happened. This gave Kit hope that perhaps this strange man was not as dangerous as his previous behavior suggested. She sneered at him and opened her mouth to speak, when he calmly informed her to look down. Keeping her jaw set and chin level, she moved her eyes to glance briefly at where her bed was a moment ago. She looked back up at him. "Yeah? So? --" ....where her bed was...She looked down....a moment ago...her bed was right there...where had she misplaced ...her bed?
Dumbledore smiled. "Are you ready to listen now?"
Swallowing with nervousness, Kit nodded dumbly, eyes wide with wonder.
"Good, then," Dumbledore replied. "Let's start at the very beginning."

I will probably add more to this one later, but if not, well, just imagine.
#2!

Kit awoke for school at her normal time on a normal Monday in the excessively normal month of January. "Uggh," she groaned with sleepiness, and reached over to her night-table to push the snooze button on her alarm clock. Her hand sliced through empty air. Huh? she thought disorientedly as she sat up, her mind still clouded in a groggy haze. 

...Where did her night-table go? Looking around, she realized that her room had, mysteriously, rearranged itself during the night. 

One extremely confusing hour later, Kit was stumbling around the hallways of APHS, frantically looking for a tallish brown-eyed freshman with a short brown hair. Already, Kit had attempted to find some answers from Mrs. Horton, who acted very concerned all morning, starting when Kit inadvertently let out a bloodcurdling screech when she had found the bathroom and looked in the mirror. For Kit had found she looked rather different indeed. In fact, she resembled Stephanie Horton. She managed to convince Stephanie's mother that she was just feeling out of sorts because she hadn't slept well, and it was a relief to be in school. She had accidentally waved to several people who apparently didn't know Stephanie, and several people had said hello to her that she didn't know, and she was also extremely concerned about finding the real Stephanie before she had to go to Spanish class. Praying that Stephanie had had the good sense to come to school, Kit rushed into the library, her shorter-than-normal frame feeling awkward and discombobulated, as she was used to walking with the gait of a 5'8'' person rather than one several inches shorter. 

Thank the Lord, Kit thought ecstatically, rushing up to herself, who was seated next to Bo at one of the round library tables, looking odd and totally freaked out. "Hey, uh, Kit," she said tentatively. Stephanie stared back through Kit's eyes, wary. Hmm, thought Kit, what can I say to let her know it's me? Suddenly, a flash of inspiration! "Eighty-seven," Kit blurted out. Stephanie's eyes lit up. "What's going on?" she cried desperately. "I don't know!" Kit said back. "I just woke up like this!" 

They slowly came to realize the fact that Bo, Matt, Alison, Tyler, Robert, Samantha, Janna, and several others were all staring at them rather curiously. Dun dun dun.......The End. (I know, lame ending, I ran out of inspiration.)

#3 -- well, birds don't really have very verbal trains of thought, so I'll skip to

#4 -- nah, skipping this one too...OK, time for

#5, but I'm not in the mood, so I guess I'll just do #6 and be done with it. 

It was a fair day on the good pirate ship Adoria, and a fair wind caressed the sun-painted faces of the crew. Only the younger, fresher, purer faces showed their faces to the raw atmosphere that morning, however; the more hardened, salty sailors were holed up under the floor in the cabin, gulping their coffee and scowling with grievances of the weather, the captain, the ship, the crew, and the mates, although most were, in actuality, dearly beloved. One girl sat in the crow's nest unnecessarily, squinting at the sun pugnaciously and clutching a coffee-filled mug with a fierce grip. She drained the last from her cup and sat, staring thoughtfully and savoring the Caribbean souvenir from their latest commercial affair, the raid of a fine trading center of Jamaica. Quite abruptly, up she stood, swinging over to the netting with great agility and touching the smooth lumber of the deck with her toes in a matter of seconds. She was just returning the mug to the cook when she heard the captain's familiar cry.

"All hands on deck," the masterful shipman cried, rallying the tired crew. The girl skipped gaily into the mast and leaned on it heavily, refreshed by the cool air but still groggy from five and a half hours of sleep. She smiled at the cabin boy and fixed her attention to the captain, who had opened his mouth to bellow instructions. 

"All ye pathetic sailors, get your sorry bottoms up here, now!" Captain McCanter screamed, shaking the last few sailors from their hideouts below the deck. Their whining was silenced with one look from the first mate, a fearsome fellow. At almost six and a half feet in height, the muscled, dark African struck fear in all the crew. 

"You pathetic landlubbers were too busy slumberin' below the deck last night to bother noticing the goings-on above deck in my cabin," the Captain growled. "Yes, sirs, a mutiny occurred not three hours before you thought to wake. Jolly Jackson, who is substantially less jolly now, is currently clapped in irons and holed up below in the brig. Before we threw him down there to await his execution-at-sea with the rats, he was kind enough to share with us the names of a few of his low-down, stinkin', traitor comrades!" 

A stir went through the crowd. A mutiny? The girl peered about, looking for perspiring faces, widened eyes, twitching hands, shallow breaths, anything to betray true anxiety, but she found none; only more faces like hers, curious and wondering. A sudden realization came to the girl. Had there really been more crew members involved, or did Jackson lie?...

"Snake Stonewall!" yelled the captain, and the higher-ranked officers fell upon the bewildered ship's cook; his terrified screams reverberated off the stairwell walls on his way down to join Jackson. The crew remained silent and apprehensive, muted by the captain's glares, until the officers returned.

"Serpentine Kulinsky!" was heard, and the master archer was taken.

"Crimson Highcroft!"  "Abbah Okoma!"  "Asia Ling Chu!"  "Edward MacVansworth!" and

"Kit Collins!" 

"What?" the girl screamed, not unlike the others whose names had been called. "A thousand curses on Jackson, the traitor, the liar, the filthy ocean-demon! I did no such participation in the mutiny against the good captain!" Her voice was ignored as she was roughly pulled, kicking and screaming, to the brig.

All the so-called traitors, restrained with iron, could do naught but croon threats and curses at the pale-faced mutineer, who was, perhaps, even more frightened than they. 

Too soon for Kit's, Jackson's, or anyone else's likings, they were dragged back up to the deck, where they could see six rope nooses hanging from the mast. 

"Crud," thought Kit. 

Their shouted alibis and pleas for mercy fell on the deaf ears of the narrow-minded, foolish captain. Try as she might, Kit could not escape her burly captors, and was soon standing on a box with the rope around her neck. She was still shouting when someone kicked the box out from under her feet. She fell and fell and fell and fell and fell...

and landed in her seat in English class. 

"Kit!" hissed Sean, whose chair was next to hers. "Wake up!"

"Oh, snap," Kit said groggily. "I guess stayed up too late last night finishing that post for English."

The End (finally!!!)