Part 1--Titled at a later date. =)

It all started with a staircase. Okay, maybe I'm lying a little, but it did kind of start with a staircase a couple of days after I arrived at my Aunt Jane's house. You see, she was the brilliantly crazy person in our family. I hear every family has one, you know, the one that you sometimes wish you could hide under the couch, when you have new people come over, but also the one you want to be able to pull out when your having the extremely important argument with you colleague about the diminishing amount of adventurous people in your family. But it really doesn't matter what everyone else thought, it doesn't even matter what my family thought of Aunt Jane, all that matters to you is this simple fact: she was my hero and I wanted to be just like her. That is precisely why, on May 31, I was standing on the door step, suitcase beside me, nervously reaching up, slightly hesitant to ring the doorbell. That didn't much matter either, however, because before I had even come close to ringing the doorbell, the door swung suddenly open.