Chapter Text
'-thoughts
''-talking
Revised - 8/20/23
‘’It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me...’' Taylor Swift’s voice was the last thing she heard going to bed.
Melissa had fallen asleep watching TikTok videos on her smartphone.
The night before she had braided her dark brown curly hair in two.
Her hand reached absentmindedly for her phone.
She couldn’t feel her phone.
Her eyes shot open, and her voice was groggy, ‘’What...’’
She looked around blurrily, registering the white and peach coloured curtains that adorned her windows, her curtains were green, noting the soft yellow paint, her room was minimalistic and white , the shelf with cheerleading, school awards, and books, she didn’t have a shelf in her room, a closet full of outdated clothes, she had a clothing rack full of her favourite thrift jackets and designer dresses.
The buzzing knocked her off balance, and Melissa decided she was in a fever dream after maybe ate some bad edibles.
She was twenty-nine, it was perfectly legal in her country and the phone she glanced at ...was a flip phone.
Like from the early 2000s. From when she was in high school.
Like what the fuck.
She sat up, straight tendrils fell on her face, and her curly hair was now straight.
11% of the world’s population has curly hair. She had curly hair, it’s from her Caribbean background, and her mother was an Afro-Indo-Caribbean. Her father a Spanish-French Creole in his background.
She was mixed.
What-in-the ever-loving-invader-of-body-snatchers-is-her-mixed-hair-suddenly-straight?
She scrambled out of her bed; this was not her bed!
Melissa headed to the nearby restroom, and abruptly, screams.
‘’FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK.’’
.
.
.
.
.
.
Elena ‘Danger Magnet’ Gilbert stared right back at her.
She whimpered at the loss of her smartphone.
‘Tik Tok would know what’s up, but it hasn’t been invented yet.’
‘So you’re out of your body, maybe you should contact a witch.’
‘Book tok would like to advise that you are now a Mary Sue...’
‘Crime tok would say.... don’t murder anyone yet, you have no alibi, it’s a small town.’
Her ADHD was acting up.
Her anxiety was through the roof because Melissa was completely zen going to sleep yesterday.
She was meant to be on her healing journey damnit, no more toxic men and bad decisions.
Elena Gilbert and her Petrova ancestors wrote the book on toxic men and bad decisions.
‘Fuck....get it together, you’re now 17 again....’
‘’I’m now 17 again... I’m back at high school level, I’m no longer a college graduate with three degrees, but an unemployed high school student,'' she muses out loud.
‘’Cool ...cool..cool...this is fine, what part of the plot am I in? ’She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and took a cold shower.
‘’The actual caucasity of it all, white privilege, yay...fuck,’’ Melissa now Elena, felt a bit bitter.
She had survived her worst seven-year relationship with an ex, his cheating, his narcissistic tendencies then her country shutting down due to a worldwide pandemic.
She had gotten covid. She had survived.
She had gone from 2023 to 2009.
She was royally fucked.
The cold shower sprayed on her face, it was numbing and familiar.
She loved cold showers in the morning.
The straight hair, she blows out of her face after blow drying it, opting to braid it in a Viking fishtail braid.
‘’Okay, high school girl...time to fuck up a plot.’’
She pulls on a blue crop top, white blazer, and grey skinny jeans. She grabs a pair of beaten converse, skipping some steps, she leaves it by the door before looking at her aunt who is scrambling around the kitchen.
‘’Toast. I can make toast,’' Jenna gestured wildly.
‘’I’ll get the cheerios, but thank you, Aunt Jenna, for your presentation,’' Elena thanked her, walking around the unfamiliar kitchen she had watched through her laptop, trying not to look like a stranger in her own kitchen.
‘Eat your stress away before you make stupid decisions.’
‘God only knows writing a thesis is hell in a handbasket, she had to write three herself.’
Jenna paused, letting out a string of curse words, ‘’I'm meeting with my thesis advisor at...now. Crap!’’
She practically sprinted out the door.
Elena watched silently as Jeremy came downstairs,‘’ Hey, do you have any more weed left?’’
‘’Why?'' He said defensively.
‘’I was thinking brownies later, it’s not the healthiest way to cope with grief, I’ve been trying to be normal, but it hasn’t exactly worked out for my mental health, so I thought we could talk later over brownies. I rather you do the fun drugs with me, than the hard drugs later.’’
'Her' brother looked confused, she stared at him softly, ‘’If you wanted to?’’
‘’Who are you and what have you done with my sister?’’
‘Believe me Jeremy, I wish I knew myself,' She bit out a low laugh.
‘’Do you need a ride?’’
‘’No, I got it covered,’ he replies.
They both turn as Bonnie pulled in front of the house.
‘’See later Lena.’’
‘’See you later Jer.’’
She was not prepared for the American high school system; she had grown up with uniforms and a system that followed the British school system.
Elena recalled that even in ten years, gun violence would be much worse, but this seemed to be a different world entirely, so hopefully not as bad.
‘God give me strength.’