𝒮𝑒𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 <<Bruno Madrigal>>>

Chapter 7

He roamed around and far beyond where he woke, for EIGHT FRIGGIN HOURS!!! Angelo couldn't be any more pissed at everything right now. He adjusts his makeshift loincloth made out of leaves, but instantly regrets it as he felt so itchy from the first one he made, which was unfortunately made out of taro leaves. If he had known that the leaves would also be like this, he wouldn't have attempted to use it. It was because the leaf seemed big enough to cover his everything that Angelo never jumped to any more thoughts than simply having something to wear over his shivering figure.

So far, he hasn't spotted anyone in about a mile. No one seems to be following him either with this prank, which more and more seemed like it wasn't some prank at all. If he had just dreamed of everything that had happened, then Angelo would be either got caught by the ones who were after him and stripped him off of everything he had, literally, or he's going insane and would think that this is related to the gift that was given him. If it's the latter then this sucks a million times than his poor life back in town.

"No, that can't be it. The door looked like it has something to do with clocks," he chuckles. This suddenly sucked the life out of him, "Great. Now I'm talking to myself."

A few more walks and he stumbles upon a village. But it wasn't just any village. It had the same church, the same positions of the old buildings, but everything seemed different somehow, like they're fully restored to their former glory.

"Oh God, is this... No, this can't be right..." It was his previous home. It's where they used to live, he and his family.

Angelo was swift on his feet, gathering laundries from the ropes of random houses to wear for himself. "Goodbye leaf loincloth," he scoffs. He blends in well with the crowd, that wasn't that hard. The village is smaller than he knew, it even has some buildings he thought we're irreparable. How on earth did this place thrived so quickly? And in just mere days after he left.

Someone suddenly taps him on the shoulder. "Excuse me..." Angelo's eyes widen, he couldn't believe what he's seeing right now, "can you move to the side, please?" He looks to the right seeing a folding camera directed towards them.

"Oh, my bad," the boy steps aside to let them take the picture. 'I must be tripping right now, right? He may just be a look alike.' But the conclusion was crossed out when Angelo sees the woman behind him. 'Yup. I am definitely high, there's no way this is real.' He saw the pictures hanging on the walls, this woman looks exactly like his Abuela, and then there's this guy who looks exactly like his Abuelo in the picture.

He walks away without another word to them, ramming his brain through memories of the pictures on the walls of the Madrigal's home. Those are no doubt Alma and Pedro, there's too much resemblance to put that thought aside. He needed to calm down, he needed to make sure. So the next thing that comes to mind was ask a random person of what day it is today.

"Today? See.... I think it's Tuesday? Yeah. It could be.  August of 27th."

"And the year?" he pressed on.

"Year? It's 1942. Where's your head at, boy?"

Angelo's jaw drops, walking past the old man in a daze. He doesn't turn back to see why the old man was still calling out to him, all he ever wanted to know was why. How did he get himself into this?

He chose a spot in between alleyways to think to himself, Angelo even had a theory about time changes, all possible meanings to what was etched on his door was made into a guess, and out of the twelve ones he had, this is the fifth and the one that seemed accurate. 'He's bound to put himself in one of those old pictures as he time travels to that particular moment.'