Mysteriously transported to her past, soon-to-be college student, Clara Williams, has to find her way back to her own time or get stuck doing high school all over again.
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The House in The Woods
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HIGH SCHOOL is a set of memories we only live through once, nottwice. If you ever do, though the chances of that happening are zero—unless you're like me—then you should prepare for the absolute worst.
Call me pessimistic, I say realistic.
"Some things never change," I muttered to myself as the cabin came into sight.
Tall trees surrounded the back of the house, scattering the sun into irregular rays that shone down onto the cleared space in front of the house.
It was the same on the outside and I could bet it would be on the inside, too. Being back here made it feel like time hadn't flown by. My eyes fell on the spot we headed to.
In the two times we'd visited, Dad always parked the car in the same spot.
The first time I had held my mother's hand; the second time, I missed her hand. One could almost say mourning.
The brown leaf-covered roof and wooden exterior made me feel like the little girl I was mourning her mother's absence. It's been seven years and I still can't get over that and maybe I never will.
Seven years since my mom got drunk and drove out in rage on her birthday, making that the last time I had seen her, even though she was still alive.
The car reared to a stop, and I got out just as soon as Dad killed the engine, not waiting to hear what she was going to say. There was nothing more she could have wanted to say other than to state the fact that we had arrived.
Jane was what I called her even though I couldn't count how many times my dad had demanded I call her 'mom'. I never tried to because before I ever thought to do so, another fact would supersede it.
She replaced my mom.
I headed to the trunk and took out my luggage before deciding to help Tony get his. But he got to me and yanked it from my grip.
"I'm a man. I got this."
I scoffed. Man! He'd always be a little boy in my eyes.
"You're welcome."
"Yeah, whatever, thanks."
With a sly smirk, I went closer to him to ruffle his blond hair a few tones darker than mine, but he wriggled out of my feeble grip. Guess he was getting stronger.
"What's up with you?" I asked as we headed towards the house.
His reply came out gruff, "I should ask you?"
"I didn't do anything. Why are you grumpy?" When he didn't reply, I went on. "Or is it because of Susan?"
I emphasized the name of the person I hadn't stopped pestering him about her ever since I heard him talking about her some days after my graduation.
