Note

At twenty-four, she had woken up in her sixteen year-old body and in her sixteen year-old life. She had woken up to familiar walls plastered with bad charcoal drawings and sloppy watercolors. She'd shaken her head and closed her eyes and then closed them tighter. She'd run her finger along the furniture - her old desk, with the hearts etched into it with whiteout, her old lava lamp that would shatter at eighteen on college move-in day, her family pictures, of her mom, of her dad.

⚠️THIS IS A WORK OF ADAPTION, CREDITS GOES TO THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR.