Turn Back Time

Desdemona had always had it rough from her father after he abandoned her and her brother, Dorian; but when the man shoots Dorian, she swears her revenge...
She begins working on a machine that would allow her to re-enter her eight year old self, but keep her current knowledge, so that she may save her brother who died all those years ago. But can she manage it? Or will her past come back to haunt her before she has time?

(Current coverart is only temporary, proper coverart coming soon.)


3. Skylar's Idea

There he stood; his long, blonde hair swept into a loose ponytail, as per usual; his green eyes full of excitement- or madness, sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.

“I have had an idea that could change time travel forever!” Doctor Black called triumphantly.

“Well, just establishing time travel would be a good start, Doctor Black.” I sighed.

“I guess I won’t let you help me then,” he crossed his arms and looked away.

“Cut the melodramatics, Doctor Black, you know I would love to help.” I smiled.

“Then you must call me by my first name if we are going to work together.” His eyes shined like a child’s at Christmas.

“But I don’t know your first name, Doctor.”

“It’s Skylar.”

And with that he had grabbed my upper arm and started running down to the door to the lab. He had a habit of getting overexcited, but this was more than I had ever seen before.

He pushed me into a chair behind a desk littered with papers, pulled up a significantly smaller chair opposite mine and sank into it, staring up at me. He pushed the papers into a pile and edged them closer to me. After I looked at him suspiciously, I began to look at the papers.

The first was an essay (complete with his name in the top left corner) about his idea. I scanned it quickly and one sentence caught my eye:

Once powered, the machine can send someone’s consciousness back into a past version of themselves for a few hours before coming back to the altered future.

This could be interesting.

I looked through sketches of the machine, diagrams of the jump patterns (this was what he called the consciousness’ movements through time) and all sorts of information.

I glanced up to see him resting his chin on his hands, which were on the edge of the desk, much similar to how animals rest their heads on their paws. He looked intently up at me. If he behaved like this around the city, I definitely knew why everyone said he was mad.

“I suppose I could help.” I said at last.

“Yay!” he jumped up and started clapping.

I stared at his peculiar behaviour; I had rarely spent time with Skylar before.

“I was thinking we should start in a few days because that will give us time to plan and every time we haven’t planned something has gone wrong so it would probably be best if we did, don’t you think?” he spoke so fast that I had to wait a second to process what he just said.

“Ummm… Yeah.”



By the time we were done it was growing dark. When I left, I travelled to the place where Dorian spoke his last words to me. I stood in silence and listened to people chattering in the local pub. That was when I felt something cold on my shoulder. I looked up to see snow falling gently down onto the ground.

“Look after yourself Des.”

Flashes of that night pierced through my memory; echoing and distorting as I tried to force them away. I ran back to my apartment and sat on my bed, with my head between my knees and- for the first time in six years- I cried.

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