--
Elsa's chest heaved, each breath a ragged gasp as her trembling fingers stretched for the phone. Just as her skin brushed the cold screen, the line went dead with a definitive click. A shiver wracked her body. The silence that followed was oppressive, thick enough to choke on. After a hesitant pause, her thumb moved to redial, the screen's faint click echoing in the stillness.
But before she could press call, a sound shattered the silence, a tinny, outdated ringtone she hadn't heard in years. It was coming from Mira's old cellphone, the one Elsa had placed there moments ago.
Elsa froze, her blood running cold. "How is this possible?" she thought, her mind reeling. "That phone hasn't had a charge in years..."
She stood paralyzed, a statue of fear. For a fleeting second, she clung to the hope that this was just another one of her vivid, terrifying dreams. But then the phone rang again, a shrill, insistent demand that felt all too real. Taking a shaky, uneven breath, she forced her feet to move. Each step toward the table was a monumental effort. Her hand, trembling violently, closed around the cold device. She answered.
"H-Hello?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
The line crackled with static, the voice on the other end distorted and unintelligible.
"Hello?" she asked again, her fear mounting.
"Elsa!!!" a voice screamed from the other end, raw with panic.
Elsa gasped inwardly, her heart seizing in her chest as if an icy hand had clamped around it. And then, everything went black.
---
"Elsa! Elsa! Wake up!" a voice called, cutting through the fog. Someone was shaking her gently but persistently.
Her eyes felt glued shut, heavy with a sleep that wasn't quite sleep. She could hear her name, faint and distant, but she couldn't respond. A crushing weight seemed to press on her chest.
"I can't breathe," she thought, panic rising in her throat as she struggled for air, trapped in her own body.
"Elsa! Elsa!"
The voice came again, now accompanied by a continuous, gentle tapping on her cheek. The sound sharpened, pulling her closer to the surface. Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open and she bolted upright, gasping as if she'd been drowning, one hand flying to her chest.
As her breathing began to steady, the bright morning sun streamed directly into her face, forcing her to squint. She raised a palm to shield her eyes. A familiar voice rang out.
"Hey, you okay?" the voice asked, a warm hand settling on her shoulder.
Still disoriented, Elsa nodded automatically.
"Yeah," she rasped.
Then, she paused. The voice. The hand. A cold realization trickled down her spine. Her breath hitched as she slowly, fearfully, looked up at the person standing over her.
Elsa's eyes widened in pure shock.
It was her mom.
"Mom?" she said, the word coming out in a low, stunned whisper.
Her mom stood with her arms firmly crossed, a familiar posture of mock impatience.
"Hey! You scared me half to death! I thought you were choking in your sleep or something! Do you have any idea what time it is? When are you going to start getting ready?!"
Elsa could only repeat the name, her voice shaking. "Mom?"
Her mother scoffed, a sound so mundanely familiar it was terrifying.
"You brat, get out of that bed and get ready for school! And stop acting like you've seen a ghost. I'm not falling for your tricks this morning."
Elsa blinked, her mind struggling to process the scene.
"What... what am I doing here? I don't remember coming home last night." She looked at her mom, her confusion evident.
Her mother's eyes widened, this time with mischievous suspicion. "Oh... is this your way of telling me you sneaked out last night?!" she accused, her arms still crossed.
Elsa's brow furrowed in utter bewilderment. She looked around the room, and a fresh wave of panic crested over her. This was her old room. Not just her old room, but her room from years ago. The problem wasn't just that she didn't remember coming home; it was that she couldn't have come home. She hadn't lived here in years. And why was her mom speaking to her as if no time had passed at all?
Her mom scoffed, then playfully slapped her back.
"You must have finally lost it. Now get dressed for school." She stormed out of the room before Elsa could form a coherent response.
Elsa's breathing became heavy again, her gaze darting around the room, taking in every detail. She looked down at her body. She was wearing a floral-patterned nightgown, and her bedsheets were a riot of bright, cheerful colors. This was all wrong; her aesthetic for years had been monochrome and dark. Slowly, she peeled the blanket back. As she swung her legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand, her legs suddenly buckled to the floor. She slumped to the floor with a soft exclamation.
"What's happening? Cramps?" she muttered, rubbing her knee. She looked at her legs. They were physically fine, but they felt different, softer, younger.
"Did I put on weight overnight?" The thought was absurd.
Gently, she tried to stand again, finding her balance. She could feel the blood circulating, a faint pins-and-needles sensation. Still stunned, she looked around nervously at the brightly illuminated, intensely colorful room. The cheerfulness of it was unnerving, a stark contrast to the dark sanctuary she had created for herself.
Her mind raced. She knew with absolute certainty that she hadn't come home, she wouldn't have. She wasn't ready to face this place, these memories. As her eyes scanned the room, her gaze landed on the calendar on her study table. The date shocked her, but she immediately brushed it off.
"Mom must have forgotten to throw out the old calendar," she reasoned, desperate for a logical explanation.
Still deeply confused, Elsa decided to go find her mom and demand answers. She walked toward the door, but as she passed her large, standing mirror, she froze. The movement in the reflection caught the corner of her eye. She took two steps back, turning fully to face the glass.
A scream tore from her throat.
Her mom came running, flinging the door open.
"What?! What's wrong, baby?!" she asked, panicked, her eyes scanning the room for danger.
Elsa breathed heavily, her hands shaking as they hovered over her body, touching every part. "What is this? What's going on? What's with my body? My hair?" She frantically touched the long, dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders.
Her mother looked her over, trying to understand. "What's wrong? Do you feel weird? Are you in pain somewhere?" she asked anxiously, her own hands coming up to feel Elsa's forehead and arms.
"Why... why is my hair so long? Why... why do I look smaller?" Elsa questioned, her voice rising in pitch, her face a mask of stunned horror. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated, reflecting a version of herself she hadn't seen since she was a teenager. Her expression was a chaotic mix of disbelief, fear, and a dawning, terrifying realization.
Her mother's brow furrowed in genuine confusion before she sighed in exasperation, folding her arms again.
"Elsa, you have twenty minutes to get ready, hope you know? You are going to miss the bus if you keep this up. Remember you have a test later today! You're gonna be late!" Lauryl (Elsa's mom) scolded, her tone now deadly serious. She stormed out a second time, leaving Elsa frozen before the mirror.
It was then that everything truly began to dawn on her. She looked around again, really seeing it this time: the Eclipse band posters she'd torn down years ago, the medical textbooks she'd thrown out after switching her major, the specific way the trophies were arranged on the shelf. Everything was exactly as it had been in high school. She looked back at her reflection. She wasn't just imagining it; she was younger. Her hair, which she had always hated for its incredible length and had chopped off to a shorter length the second she got to college, was now long, black, and silky, a sheet of dark water falling down her back, just as it had been when she was younger.
She hurried back to the calendar, her legs now working properly. She snatched it up and gasped. The date was "May 6, 2019."
Her internal panic surged, but a part of her still resisted. She had to be sure. Clutching the calendar, she stormed out of her room.
"Mom! Mom!" she called out, running into the living room. The house was silent.
"Mom?"
Her calls were met with emptiness. Her gaze then caught the plated food on the table, covered with a cute net cover. She paused, her urgency momentarily forgotten, and slowly walked towards it. She lifted the cover, and the sweet, sensational aroma of her mother's cooking hit her, a scent she hadn't realized she'd missed so acutely. A little note sat beside it:
"I'm off to work already. Make sure to eat before heading out so you won't be hungry before break. And don't be late for school. Love, Mom."
A small, involuntary smile tugged at Elsa's lips before she could stop it. She looked around the whole house. It was all here, exactly as it was six years ago. It was too perfect, too detailed to be a dream.
She walked back to her room in a daze, placing the calendar back on the desk. Her eyes swept over the room again: the posters, the books, her high school uniform, neatly ironed and hanging on the closet door. At that moment, her eyes welled with tears. A desperate, aching wish formed in her heart: "Please, never let me wake up from this."
As she was still absorbing the surreal reality, a loud, obnoxious beep, a call tone from a decade ago, made her flinch. She looked around, anxious, and followed the sound to her bed. There sat an outdated smartphone. With hesitant fingers, she picked it up and looked at the caller ID.
She froze.
My Soul Sister.
A name she hadn't seen light up a screen in years.
"Mira?" she whispered, her voice shakier than her hands.
This, more than anything, convinced her it was a dream. Mira visited her dreams almost every night. With trembling hands, she answered.
"Girl, get your ass here right now! Are you just waking up!?" Mira's voice snapped through the line, so full of life and impatience it stole Elsa's breath.
Elsa gasped. "Mira?" she said, the name barely audible.
"What?! Girl, if you're another minute late, I won't be able to cover for you with the teacher. You'll be stuck with cleaning duty again!"
Tears welled up in Elsa's eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks. "Mira... Is that really you?"
Mira sighed, the sound so familiar it was a physical ache.
"Who else would it be? Are you half-asleep? Just get to school!" The line went dead.
Elsa stood frozen, the phone slipping from her numb fingers and clattering to the floor as tears streamed down her face. She was hearing her voice again. How could a dream be this vivid? She pinched the soft skin on her arm, hard, and gasped at the sharp pain. This was real. Panic, cold and sharp, seized her. How? How was this even possible?
She had to confirm it. She had to see for herself.
Moving on autopilot, she rushed into the bathroom, showered in a blur, and threw on the neatly hung school uniform, her fingers fumbling with the familiar tie. She stared at the name tag: Elsa Williams.
She stepped out of the house, ignoring the breakfast, and stared in awe at her neighborhood. It was a perfect snapshot of the past.
"This can't be real..." she muttered, a laugh of pure disbelief bubbling in her throat.
She got on the bus she used to take, sitting quietly among chattering students in the same old uniforms. The route was ingrained in her memory; even after six years, she knew every turn. After thirty minutes, the bus arrived at the school gates.
"Just need to confirm... just to be sure..." she whispered to herself, stepping off the bus. Even if this was a dream, she had to find Mira before she woke up.
The school compound was exactly as she remembered: a whirlwind of students laughing, gossiping, flirting. The energy was a palpable buzz.
"Hi Elsa!" a group of girls greeted as they passed.
Elsa blinked at them, too stunned to reply.
Huh?
Still walking, she heard a familiar voice call out her name.
"Hey Elsa!"
That voice.
Her heart skipped a beat. She turned slowly.
Susan.
"Susan?" Elsa whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
Susan playfully draped her arm around Elsa's shoulder. "Late again?" she grinned.
Elsa just stared, speechless.
Susan laughed. "We are basically twins. We're both always late. I pray we get assigned the same place for cleaning duty if we get caught." She teased.
Elsa didn't say anything, her eyes drinking in the sight of her friend, alive and well. Susan crossed her arms.
"Do I look so hot today that it makes you wanna cry?" she pouted playfully.
Without warning, Elsa suddenly pulled her into a desperate, bone-crushing hug, her eyes flooding with tears.
"I missed you so much, Susan. I'm so sorry I pushed you away..."
Susan was baffled, patting Elsa's back awkwardly.
"Push me away? We just saw each other yesterday! Are you okay?"
Elsa didn't respond, just held her tighter, her tears soaking into Susan's blazer.
"Are you crying?" Susan asked, surprised. She tried to pull back to look at Elsa's face, but Elsa held on tightly. "Woah, woah, as you wish then. Smuggle me all you want. Whatever it is, just cry it out," Susan said, her tone softening.
After a long moment, Elsa withdrew, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Susan's brow was furrowed with concern. "Girl, you okay? You're acting like something happened." She looked at Elsa mischievously. "Or did you do something wrong?"
Elsa let out a wet laugh, quickly wiping her tears. "It's nothing like that. I'm just....I'm just...." she trailed off, her smile fading. "I'm just glad that you're my friend and that I get to see you today."
Susan gave her a soft, thoughtful smile. "I'm not going anywhere, Els... I'm gonna cling to you forever until you get tired of me." They both laughed, and Elsa sniffled softly.
"By the way, where's Mira?" Elsa asked immediately, pulling herself together.
"Umm... I'm not sure, I just got here too. Maybe check the PE field? She should be setting up some things there for the rally," Susan replied.
Elsa let out a heavy sigh, a sigh of relief, of anticipation, of fear. "See you later!" she yelled over her shoulder as she immediately dashed off.
Susan shook her head curiously. "Did she take one of my shirts? Is that why she's acting all weird so I'll forgive her later?" she muttered to herself, trying to make sense of the sudden emotional outburst.
Elsa sprinted as fast as she could toward the field, her heart hammering against her ribs. She didn't know what to expect, but she hoped with every fiber of her being that she would find Mira. Tears of anticipation and fear welled in her eyes again.
She reached the PE field panting, her hand on her side. Students were playing football; others were cheering from the sidelines. Elsa's eyes frantically scanned the crowd. And then, she saw her.
Elsa froze.
For a moment, the entire world stopped. The noise faded into a dull hum. There, in the center of it all, was Mirabel. Her Mira. Alive, sparkling, cheering, and laughing, vibrant with a life that had been extinguished years ago. Tears immediately filled Elsa's eyes, blurring the beautiful image. This was the sweetest dream she'd ever had, and she never wanted to leave.
It was really her.
Mira turned and caught Elsa standing there, spaced out and emotional. Mira waved with a bright, sunny smile and immediately started running toward her.
She skidded to a stop. "You should have texted if you were going to be late! You and Susan are always late!" Mirabel scolded, but her eyes were kind.
Elsa smiled through her tears, taking a tentative step closer. "It's really you," she breathed, her voice full of wonder.
As Elsa raised a trembling hand, wanting nothing more than to touch Mira's face to confirm she was solid, suddenly—
WHAM!
A football struck her squarely on the forehead. The world tilted, exploded into stars, and then went blank.
Mira gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She immediately dropped to her knees beside Elsa's motionless form. The boy who had kicked the ball sprinted over, his face pale with panic.
"Oh shit! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you guys standing there!" he apologized frantically.
Mirabel looked up at him. Though she was annoyed and angry, the urgency of the situation overrode it. "It's okay, just help me get her on my back," she said, turning to hoist Elsa up.
He immediately protested. "Oh no, no, let me. I caused this. I'll take her to the clinic." He was adamant, his voice firm with guilt. Seeing his determination, Mira relented.
He carefully gathered Elsa into his arms and hurried toward the school clinic, Mira following closely behind. The school nurse examined her, pronounced it a mild concussion, and said she just needed to rest. When she woke up, she would be fine.
Hours passed. Finally, Elsa's eyes fluttered open. She sat up quickly, clutching her throbbing head. Her eyes darted around the sterile clinic room in a panic, her first fear being that she had been thrown back to her previous reality. She looked down at her body, still in the school uniform—and heaved a sigh of relief. But then a new panic set in when she didn't see Mira anywhere.
She immediately swung her feet to the floor, shoved them into her shoes, and stood up, ready to bolt.
"Hey! Wait, you can't leave yet!" a male voice called out.
She turned to see a boy approaching her. He had kind eyes and a concerned expression.
"I'm fine now," she said dismissively, heading for the door.
"At least wait for the nurse. Let her clear you. She just stepped out."
"I appreciate your concern, but I'll come back later if I feel unwell," she said, her hand on the doorknob. As she pulled it open, she paused and turned back, a flicker of curiosity cutting through her urgency. "Have we met before?"
The boy smiled. "I'm not sure if you know me, but I know you. Elsa... the show queen. Mira's bestie."
Elsa's eyes narrowed, her mind racing through old yearbooks, trying to place his face. He was handsome, with a familiar kindness in his features.
"Hmm… you even know my name," she said.
He nodded.
She shrugged slightly. "Well, I haven't seen you around before but—" she paused. The way he held himself, the cadence of his voice, the slight smirk that now played on his lips. A memory, decades newer, slammed into her. Her eyes widened immediately as she gasped.
"No way..."
The boy's smirk deepened. "I guess you've seen me around school. Anyway, nice to finally meet you properly. I'm Liam Daniels."
Elsa gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Mr. Liam?!"
Her heart pounded violently against her ribs. She was looking at the teenage version of her stern boss!.
The pieces, impossible and terrifying, finally clicked into place. What was happening? She was really in a time slip.