(A/N)
That house is the Hamilton Grange Mansion.
Cool Cool?
(Alex POV)

So, you know when you do something stupid, and it has unimaginable consequences? Yeah. That's me. Well, it wasn't my fault. Friggin' peer pressure.

I was on a field trip one day. To the Hamilton Grange national Memorial (for you normal people, that's the house that Alexander Hamilton used to live in.) Yeah. I guess the museum of historical paper clips was closed for remodeling.

Me, and my three friends, Mary, Maria, and Zoe, where just listening to the tour, minding our own business. But I guess it had gotten to boring for two boys, and they started pushing each other around. I think their names where something like Calvin and Danny.

I guess the tour guide was to much of a nerd to notice two large teenage boys roughhousing.

I must have misjudged how close I was to them, because, before I knew it, I was being knocked over. Unfortunately into a wooden desk.

Dang I hope that wasn't valuable.

(Alex's POV)

Some believe the afterlife is either Heaven or Hell. Some believe in the Greek system, which I had never understood. Some believe there is no afterlife.

I never imagined it would be like this.

Was I a ghost? Or perhaps this was some strange passage that everyone went through to get to the afterlife. But if so, when does it end? What is the goal?

How could existence as a writing desk prove any purpose?

I watched as time moved around me. My beloved Eliza. Our children. Eventually their children. At one point, I had felt the entire building move. Now it was crowds of people. They would come, they would leave. Some came again every day. Most never came back. One man did come occasionally. He was sort of a friend to me.

But on a warm spring morning, I felt something new. Something told me everything would change today. That I would break free of my wooden prison. Perhaps today was the end.

It daunted me. What if nothing happens? What if I simply pop out of existence? And what of my quote unquote "friend"? I had become rather attached to him.

One of the regulars was talking, in front of a group of adolescents. This would happen from time to time.

They would always stand in little groups. And it was almost always separated by sex. I noticed two young men who had gotten restless, and where jostling each other.

.....Queer...

Things where getting more out of hand.

I realized it about three seconds before it had happened. Those two boys had knocked a girl over. Towards me. The last thing I remember was splintering pain.

___________
(A/N)
I HOPE U LIKE IT!!

I tried to make it as accurate as possible. The power of Google is strong with this one.