Your parents were screaming and yelling. Again. For the fourth time this week, and it was only Tuesday. You rolled over in bed and put a pillow over your ears.
All you wanted was to fall asleep and maybe it would be over by morning. Your mom would leave or your dad would black out drunk. Whatever got them quiet, you thought.
You closed your eyes and thought about where you'd like to be right now. Anywhere but here. You wished it was 1982. You didn't know why you had this specific year in mind, but your parents would be too young to know each other and you wouldn't have been born.
"Maybe I shouldn't have been.." you mumbled to yourself. You groaned as you heard a glass smash. Things rarely got violent, but when they did it was bad. You were in danger. At least if you fell asleep you wouldn't be awake if they hurt you.
You closed your eyes and focused hard on falling asleep. You thought of all the things you love. You loved your city. Queens, New York. You loved your friends. You loved color. You loved... not much else you thought. But that's okay. By the time you fell asleep you had already run out.
"Ah no man, lunch is just around the corner. Let's go! Pick up the pace. "
"C'mon Tommy, they won't kill us if we go into town."
"I dunno.. you guys are hoodlums."
"I've been called worse Thomas."
"Don't call me that!"
The man chuckled. It was an unusual laugh. Short and loud.
"Ay what's that over there,"
Wait. The man?
The only man in your house was your dad, and he never laughed.
You gasped and opened your eyes abruptly. You took in your surroundings as best you could. Your eyes were still adjusting to the bright light that could only be the sun.
You were outside somewhere but you weren't breathing the New York air. No, this air was clean. You took in lungfuls while you scanned your own body. Your foot was in a lot of pain, though you couldn't remember ever hurting it.
"Ah!" You yelped as you tried to move it.
It seemed like you were in some sort of alley way. It was nicer looking than the alleys in New York. You looked to your right, only to see three pairs of eyes staring back at you.
"Jesus!" You yelled, as you backed away from the strangers.
"Hey hey settle down." Said a brunette boy with bright blue eyes. He had a kind, movie star like face. They were all crouched in an effort to not startle you.
"What the hell happened to you." Said a boy with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. He had an accent just like yours and he was wearing a brown leather jacket.
The other boy was younger looking, maybe fifteen or sixteen. He had dark brown hair and hazel green eyes. He was well put together. "Are you hurt?" He asked.
"Where- where am I?" You asked perplexed.
"You're in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Why don't you tell us your name." Said the younger looking boy. He studied you with bright eyes.
"Uh.. I'm y/n. How did I get here?"
"I don't know doll. But you're from New York aren't you?" Said the man with light brown hair looking into your eyes.
"I am.. seems like you are too." You said
"You got it." He said. "I'm Matt, this is Tommy and Rob." He pointed to the young boy first, then the blue eyed one.
"Rob Lowe." Rob said, reaching to shake your hand. "You remember that name when I'm famous."
It did sound like a familiar name. But where was it from?
"We're here shooting a movie. We're actors." Said Tommy with a smile.
"Hardly." Matt scoffed. Tommy ignored him and kept his eyes trained on you.
"Well y/n, the million dollar question. What are you doing unconscious in the middle of an alley in Tulsa?" Asked Rob gently. He had a grin on his face. You don't know why but it made you feel better.
"You tell me.." you mumbled. "Maybe I can just call my mom and sort this all out.." you said to yourself. You reached in your back pocket for your phone. Nothing.
"My phone! Where's my phone?" You asked aloud feeling around your jeans for it.
"You have a phone in your pants!" Tommy said shocked.
"Well I DID!" You said. But then you backpedaled. "Why is that so weird?"
"Cause you need a landline.." Tommy said slowly.
"A landline.." you muttered. "Tommy what year is it."
"Well it's 1982 y/n."
You passed out cold.
