Stuck {Marty Mcfly x reader}

⚠️2015

That evening, Clara made dinner. After dinner we brought the horses away and packed the last of our things.

"You know what you're signing up for, right Clara?" I asked her as I handed her a spare shirt and spare pair of jeans.
"No, but as long as I can be with your dad I'm completely okay with it." She looked at the clothes with disgust. "Do I really-"
"Yes, no one wears this anymore. You'd look like a complete freak if you put this on!" I flare her skirt.

She complies and changes into my clothes, it's a weird combination, but it'll do. We stayed inside till we heard the clock rang and told us it was 12 A.M. Clara was a bit confused, but walked with us anyway.

Once we arrived at the train station, my dad started the train. The lights shone on something on the trails.

"I'll go look at it, I'll be right back..." I said and walked towards it.

I frowned at it and quickly realised it was a dead goat. Before I could walk towards my dad, I was thrown on the ground and someone sat on my waist, holding my arms down to the ground. He had placed a sack with heavy stuff on the leg that was hit with a gunshot by Biff. Pain and panic ran through my body.

"HELP! HELP ME!" I was able to scream before he put his hand on my mouth.
"Shhhh, shh." He was now cutting off my airways with his other hand, making my vision go blurry.

"Hey! What's going on here?" I couldn't recognise the face, but I did recognise his voice. It was my father.
"Just have a date with your daughter, smithy." I was trying to scream, but couldn't.

Before I realised it, Clara had hit his head with one of my dad's wrenches, making him go unconscious. My dad lifted him off of me and helped me get up. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, my throat was stinging and I could hardly stand. They moved Buford and the goat.

We quickly got inside of the train, Clara sat me down on the chair, while she quickly looked at my leg. My dad started throwing things into the fire, we slowly starting going forward.

"There's nothing you can do about it, Clara. I just have to get through this. I got shot like what? A month to two months ago, I'm used to it." I reassured her.
"Hold on, ladies. When this baby hits 88 miles per hour, you're gonna see some serious shit." I could hear that my dad was excited to go back, but was also disappointed to leave this life behind. Clara sat down on the other chair, not knowing what to expect.

The three logs exploded one after another and soon we hit 88 miles per hour, blue lights surrounded us and the familiar sounds were heard. Before we knew it, we were driving on the train track surrounded by people in futuristic clothes.

We did it. We're in 2015!