You want to make me believe that I'm crazy
That I'm nothing with out you
Phil didn't know what to do.
The person in the video, was at least 5 years older than his self now. Which meant that he had either been back in that century for 5 years, which wasn't possible, or he had used the New Ager.
And what about the laws? The thanks-to-the-Diffy's law. Time machines were no longer usable. In fact, all of the time machines ever made had been taken by the government. Which left Phil wondering how he even got back.
It wasn't that he didn't want to return. It's just he had no idea how to do it.
But he must have found a way.
Unless the Giggle was wrong.
But the Giggle was never wrong.
Keely sat at the kitchen table in the house that she shared with Dean. Luckily he wasn't home yet, but just in case he came early, dinner had been prepared, and everything was ready. She didn't want him to get angry.
She looked down at her arms, at the bruises all over them. It hurt to move them. It hurt to do anything. But she was used to the pain.
Keely looked around. Everything was perfect, and now she had nothing to do. So she went upstairs, and dug out a box. A shoebox, that Dean would never find. She opened the lid carefully, and took out a few pictures.
Phil and her. Her and Phil.
In one she was sitting on his back, and they were both laughing at something stupid. The Keely that stood looking at the picture, had forgotten how to laugh.
Another had her and Phil, both sitting at their desks, their heads together. That one had gone in the yearbook. But she had thrown out all of her yearbooks; Dean had forced her to.
The last one she looked at was the one Barb had taken of her and Phil at the Ladies Choice Dance. If only she had told him how she felt right then. Maybe he wouldn't have left. Maybe she would have been sitting, engaged to Phil instead of Dean.
She heard footsteps outside, and quickly shoved the box away. She couldn't have Dean find it, and get jealous. He would rip each memory in half, making her watch, and then he would hit her. And she didn't know which one would hurt the most.
Running downstairs, she stirred the dinner one last time, and was putting it onto a plate, when he came in. She knew right away that he was angry. And she knew not to do anything to set him off. Because if he did…
"Hey!" Keely said, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. "I made your favourite. Spaghetti!"
Dean took no notice, and flung his bag down, onto Keely's foot. She winced with pain, but didn't make a sound. He grabbed the plate off her and began to eat.
"So…how was your day?" Keely asked, hoping it wasn't the wrong thing to say.
Dean exploded. "How was my day? Well, my boss told me I was rubbish, I missed lunch, and then I have to come home to my fiancé asking me stupid questions!"
Keely backed away, knowing what was coming next.
"And you know why you ask stupid questions?" Dean shouted, and threw his plate against the wall. "It's because you ARE stupid, and worthless, and I don't know why I'm marrying you!"
Keely knew she shouldn't, but the words cam out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Well why did you ask me then?"
"Because you would be nowhere without me. Nowhere," Dean said, and then hit Keely once, and stalked out.
She waited until the door slammed and locked, before she shed a tear. A tear of regret, misery and hope.
It will get less depressing. I promise!