𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍.ᐟ 𝗴𝘂𝘆 𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗲

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏, time machine

───────── ✧₊⁺ ─────────
chapter one: time machine

{a/n: and so it begins

commenting and voting are greatly appreciated!

enjoy :) }
───────── ✧₊⁺ ─────────

  THERE'S NOTHING FREAKIER than waking up in your childhood bedroom. Everything being in the exact same spot since you've left it. Every toy. Every magazine. Every article of clothing that now fits two sizes smaller. Even the crinckles imprinted on her purple beanbag haven't straightened out from when she last sat on it six years ago, just rotting away in the corner of her room.

It's been like living in a time machine for the past forty-eight hours. Not in the nostalgic, lighthearted way though, more as if I'd been sleeping and this was a nightmare.

Because it was.

Indubitably, it wasn't the same from when she was eleven years old, but everything just seems so darker.

Gloomier. Sadder. Emptier.

But in the words of her dear grandmother, coming back here would all be worth it. She believed getting that scholarship was a blessing in disguise, and it's overall such a good opportunity to get myself out there and start focusing on what Claire want for her future.

She laid still in her best for a couple moments, adjusting to the beam of morning sunlight that seeped through the cracks in the shutters. She could hear her father below in the kitchen rummaging through the cabinets in search for a clean coffee mug. He stopped after a second, which presumably meant he decided to cut the laziness and rinse out a dirty one from the sink.

Claire figures she shouldn't lay around all day. As much as she would like to, there was a thought pushing for her to get up and start familiarizing herself with the area again.

Slowly, the girl pushes herself out between her cotton sheets and floral patterned quilt and sits up. It was then she realized how cold her room was. She's tempted to duck back beneath those toasty covers again. Thought after battling with her inner thoughts, she decided against it and finally got up.

A maroon University of Arizona sweatshirt—which she had stolen from her brother long after he graduated—was draped over an old desk chair. Without a second thought, she grabs it and pulls it over her body. The inside wasn't as soft as she'd remembered, the fleece now being matted, but it did help warm her up a little.

She's sitting on a barstool in the kitchen eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes a little while later. Her father was mixing up his second attempt at his wife's famous pancake recipe. (The first one turned out a little too still. He only figured the problem out when seeing the bag of cornstarch out instead of flour.) Claire prefers waffles, but being the only girl in the house, her vote is usually casted out by her older brother's.

"What're you planning on doing today, sweet pea?" Her dad asks, turning away from the stove and glancing over his shoulder to look at her.

"Nothin' much. Maybe take a walk."

"You should go try to reconnect with some of your old buddies. It'll be nice to know some people at school."