Chapter Two

July 5, 1999 (version two)

Dear Diary,

I am lost. Completely, utterly lost. How is this possible? You, my friend, are my savior. My proof to myself that I am not insane.

How can this be happening?

Last night's diary entry is proof that I am not going crazy.

The previous entries from 1999 are my proof that my sanity is still intact.

Flashback.

I am no longer Theresa Crane.

She has never existed.

I am once again Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. Dreamer, schemer.

Liar.

The girl is reborn.

Did she ever die?

I can feel her life already bubbling to the surface, her energy and zest waiting to be unleashed once more.

But can Theresa Crane really go away?

The woman that the girl became is still alive and kicking, too, of that I can assure. She is a little more cautious, a lot wiser. She knows the truths of this.

She has seen pain, seen misery.

She has lived pain, lived misery.

She has caused pain, caused misery.

She is the Queen of pain and misery.

Theresa Lopez- Fitzgerald, meet Theresa Crane.

Together, you can right the sins of the past.

Flashback, Theresa.

This is your life.

A 26-year-old, trapped inside the body of one 17.

Live your life, Theresa.

Live your life with the youthful enthusiasm of days past.

But also live it with the knowledge you possess.

So, in conclusion, dear diary, thank you for existing. Thank you for holding the secrets and sins of the past.

Only with you can I make my flashback worth while.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Theresa, did you see that? My sugar bear is completely 'on' today!"

Theresa glanced up from her diary and smiled down at TC Russell. A wide grin had taken over his entire face, pride apparent for his oldest daughter.

She had lived this scenario before, only with a few changes. Watching Whitney practice tennis at the high school. Creaming her opponents.

Theresa sitting in the bleachers, wearing her favorite floral dress. Her brand new white sweater covering her shoulders. Her "meeting Ethan Crane" outfit.

Flipping through society magazines, looking for photos and stories on Ethan, drawing evil faces on Gwen Hotchkiss…

Well, there would be no more of that.

Once Theresa had woken up on the floor of her mother's house, she had done her best to make sure that neither her mama nor her brothers thought she was a complete wacko. When Theresa had blacked out, Pilar called in Luis and Miguel, and the three had finally gotten her to come to. After firing off a never ending round of questions, she had done her best to cover, saying that yes, indeed, she must have had a dream about marrying Ethan, and they had had a daughter named Kate.

She felt horrible about starting off her new life with a lie, but what could she do? It wasn't like she could tell her family that she was really Theresa Crane, wife of Julian Crane. That would go over real well.

So, after their well-meaning inquisition, she had darted back to her bedroom, ripped down her shrine to Ethan, and thrown it all away. Every item that bore his face, his name, ended up in a trash bag. The society magazines, everything

"Mr. Russell, Whitney is always 'on'," she called back, smiling at her best friend. Her perfect, perfect best friend.

It was so wonderful to see Whitney playing tennis again. After she became pregnant by Chad Harris, she had given up her life long passion to care for her baby…

July 5th, 1999 (version three)

Not really an entry, but a mental note to myself: once Chad Harris arrives in Harmony, somehow help him and Whit get together in a timely fashion. None of this three years to hook up crap. And once they do get together, make sure that they tell Simone about it, ASAP. Also, start in early on the importance of a selecting a birth control method…

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"Summer in Harmony is the best," Theresa said wistfully a few hours later as she and Whit walked around the high school grounds. The Harmony summer carnival was in full swing, and Theresa couldn't wait to relive a part of her childhood. "It reminds me of happier times, you know?"

Looking at Theresa with bewilderment, Whitney said, "Theresa, when in the past few years have you ever had a time that wasn't happy?"

A heated blush made it's way up Theresa's neck as her mind fumbled for a reply.

"Oh, look, Theresa, there's the snow cone stand. Daddy would kill me for doing this, but I'm going to go get one. Do you want me to get you a coconut one?"

Phew. That was a close one. Theresa was really going to have to watch herself. But this whole flashback thing was proving to be a lot harder than she thought! Being 17 again was… difficult, to say the least.

"Um, no, I think I'm going to go stand in the shade for a minute. It's pretty warm out here. Thanks, though."

Theresa walked over to the tent that was to later hold the Hottest Man in Harmony pageant, and pulled her diary out of her purse.

July 5th, 1999 (version four)

Dear Diary,

Oh, how wonderful it is to be back in the prime of my youth! Everything is so pure, so untainted. Except me, of course.

Though, I am having a bit of difficulty trying to be Theresa of old again. I keep forgetting what the girl would and would not do, what the girl would and would not say, how the girl would and would not act.

But, oh, this is so amazing! The carnival was always one of my favorite things, and now, here I am! It is just such a joy to stand here once again, to smell the cotton candy and kettle corn, to hear the sounds of laughter and amusement rides. It makes me want to weep and giggle uncontrollably at the same time.

Dear friend, I am so happy knowing that you are here with me through this. That I am not in this alone!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Theresa capped her pen, and put her diary back into her purse. She backed up, gazing at the bustling carnival activity, her excitement steadily building.

Then, her back bumped into something solid.

She looked up, and to her horror, a pail of blue paint was teetering precariously on the edge of a ladder.

She shifted her eyes over to the handsome young man who stood beside that ladder, and Theresa knew what she had to do.

She lunged at the man, knocking him out of the path of the blue paint. He landed on the concrete ground with a thud, and the paint fell onto Theresa.

She stood there, the paint dripping down her face onto her almost new shoes. Pooling in a puddle at her feet.

Oh, the irony of it all!

The man stared up at Theresa in shock and amazement. She let out a soft laugh, and closed her eyes.

It has begun.

I have altered our fates, young man.

We once again meet, Ethan Crane…

And our lives will never be the same again.