Caught in Reverse
***THIS IS A REDO OF "I COULD GET USED TO THIS" . . . UPDATES ON I COULD GET USED TO THIS TO COME!
Summary: Lieutenant Parthenia Annchen has been placed into a world she's seen before - on the big screen. Eerily partaking in the real events of a historical movie she's only seen once and can barely remember, Parthenia has to be on her toes to recall what's coming next and it most likely isn't good - blood, death, and grief. But Parthenia has a chance to change the ending and save the friends - and lover - she's made.
Extra: Takes place towards the beginning of the movie. Different ending.
Main Characters: Tristan + OC
Rating: 15+ (romance/language)
Genre: Romance (between Tristan and my character)/Time Travel (Ah! It's not corny and it's not an oh-this-is-really-me-in-a-fantasy-story, trust me!)/Adventure (swings plastic pirate sword)
Theme Song: "Soundtrack To Your Life" - Ashley Parker Angel
Folio One
starting now I'm learning fast/on this journey to the past
-journey to the past - anastasia
"Maybe they'll close the base down for the day," my mother said from the doorway as I packed a small duffel.
"Mom, the Army's like the mail," I reminded her, jamming the zipper of my bag on the laces of my combat boots. "Shit."
"It's just too dangerous to drive, Parthenia." Her voice was matter-of-fact. Parthenia? Seriously, who would name their poor daughter after the Parthenon - except my archeologist parents?
"I'm going now Mom," I said, rolling my eyes and grabbing my hat, scarf, and gloves from my bedroom table.
"Will you at least let your car warm up?" she asked as I kissed her cheek and walked through the house towards the door.
"Yus," I cried, annoyed with her badgering.
"Love you!" she called from the door. "And for god's sake, watch the ice!"
"Yeah, yeah, love you, too," I muttered, annoyed. I grabbed a shovel from the garage and started towards my tiny, bright red Chevy Vega that, last night, I had to abandon at the end of our driveway because of the storm. My little brother, Aqaba - after the Gulf of Aqaba, another doosy from my lovely parents - and his friends trailed through the up-to-your-butt-snow that we had been hit with yesterday, making forts at various strategic places in our front yard.
"Did you happen, by any chance, dig out my car while you were pretending to be GI Joe?" I called to him.
He laughed and shook his head as I heard one of his friends ask what the phrase "GI Joe" had to do with anything. "You've got to be American, chap," Aqaba laughed in a fake British accent. I was thankful that Aqaba was old enough to not latch onto the accent when we moved here. Not that it was bad or anything, but I just couldn't see him with it. He was a Yank through and through. My parents were American archeologists who had traveled to Southern Europe frequently - hence our names. They were older when they started to have kids - my mom was forty when she had me, my dad almost fifty - and I was nineteen now. They soon retired, finding it hard to do the labor they loved with two children, and started to teach at universities in the US, before settling in their dream home here in Northeastern England, when I was about fourteen, and in a home not too far from Kingston upon Hull, bordering the Humber. We all retained our American citizenship, which allowed me to join the US Army when I was seventeen. I was lucky enough to be assigned a base close enough to Kingston that I could live at home and drive to the base. But it looked near impossible today.
I traveled farther and farther down our long drive, Aqaba and his friends' laughs fading. I hadn't realized how long our driveway was until last night when I had to trudge through it in the blizzard. I hadn't seen its beauty, either. I was coming upon the stretch of our driveway that was bordered with sweeping trees, their branches usually fluttering together, over the driveway. Now, they were frozen in place, forming a solid tunnel with at least 50 yards of darkness. I doubt Aqaba and his crew had gotten this far yet, for this truly was a sight of beauty - and a great place for a siege. I stepped into its shadow, just under the lip of the ice, breathing out one, long breath, watching the mist twirl up towards the roof and disappear. I stretched out a hand, letting it glide down the ice as I walked, tracing every grove and scratch. I almost made it to the end when I stopped, aware of a change in the air. The pressure and temperature immediately dropped. I felt my ears pop, and my body shake. I smacked my lips together, my breathing quick and uneven. My ears perked as there was a new sound: a low rumble, a cracking, and then everything exploded.