The Hands of Time

It is November 23rd, 2016. Today marks the 10 year anniversay of Farlyn's father's death. Grief stricken, she walks out into her garage, gazing upon the sleek black Corvette, her fathers prize possesion, which was given to her upon his death. Seeing as the Corvette is the only thing she truly has left of her father, and where she feels the closest to him, she decided to take it out for a ride, like her and her father did almost everyday.

Farlyn was driving when suddenly she was standing in a hallway, with lockers lined on both sides of the wall for as far as I can see. She's at a high school. Without warning, the screeching of the school bell sounds over the intercom. All at once, doors begin to open into the hallway as students billow out into the hallway. Wait a second, she thinks to herself, there are girls wearing felt dresses that looked to be poodle skirts. She looks down at herself and is astounded by her attire. She's wearing a black blouse tucked into a pink poodle skirt. She doesn't remember buying those. Out of the corner of her eye she sees an affluence of girls are crowded around a boy. He has his back turned to her so all she can see is his sandy brown hair combed into a duck tail but gives the appearance of being darker due to the excessive amount of gel. He has three belts around his waist holding up his pants and shiny black shoes with white tops. She notice the glares the other boys are giving as they walk passed in their overalls and flannels with their buzz cuts. As I hear the girls giggle die down he abruptly turns around. Oh my god, she think to herself and before she can stop herself she yells out, "Dad!" trying to get attention. He doesn't notice. "Dad!" She desperately yells out again.

How did she wind up in the '50s with her father as a young rebellious teenager? Will she be able to get back to present time? Will she want to?