Note to the readers: This part of the story is in Bill's perspective

You wouldn't believe how hard it strikes you when you aren't ready for it. Especially when you are thrown through a bottomless hole that popped out of nowhere but managed to land feet down in a place that suspiciously looks like the 90s. I swear the air hasn't smelt this good in years. I am amazed. astonished. and a hundred other words. I try to move my hands to give the man a standing ovation for pulling out such a trick but instead, it is my legs that move. What has he done?

"Bill", I heard someone call for me, a voice that hasn't sounded so young and so dear in years. In fact, it was three years since I was in the presence of her. My wife -- ex-wife Delilah. My body turned around, my eyes on her and she looks so young. I try to rub my eyes but the blasted hands go for a hug instead. Then it hits me. I have been here before. It is all so familiar. This is the past, like a replay. But it doesn't feel like a dream. I wasn't sleeping. What did he do to me?

"Bill", she said with a voice full of concern, "This is the fifth time you are getting suspended this year. Can't you just let those nerds be? Just apologize to them in front of the principal and James will get those little squirts to pull out the complaints. Don't be so stubborn."

"I am not being stubborn", I growled, to my surprise, "and those pipsqueaks are going to get what's coming for them. Do they think they are safe now that the principal's involved? I can almost imagine wiping out the smug smiles off their face with my fists."

"Now, now, stay calm", said Delilah, trying to fan out the anger, "How will you tell your parents about this? The last time this happened your dad nearly blew up and grounded you for a week. Should I tag along and try to diffuse the fight?"

"I will take care of it. You needn't worry", I said, gritting my teeth but all I felt was a new feeling of fear as I began to recollect the events of this terrible day. I galloped back home holding Delilah's hand, my body never betraying the fear because it hadn't felt it yet.

Even with all that bravado, I noticed the tremble in my hand as I reached out to the door of the porch. I don't think I felt that that day. Maybe if I did, I could have avoided what came after. But this is what that's already happened. I couldn't change it even if I could.

Still, I could hope. I hoped --no, I prayed my dad wasn't home. I lied to Delilah when I said I was grounded for a week. No, I stayed in for a week licking my wounds my dad gave me. Besides he was kind of in a good mood back then. Today is not that day. "Good god, let it be empty", I prayed, "let it be empty" as I reached out to the knob on the front door.

In he was. With a bottle in his hand. Drunk.

Cursing my younger self for not running away from this precarious situation, I begrudgingly enter the hallway, while I shudder at every single sound, my body continues on with about a tenth of its original swagger. My heart and my body stop as an object narrowly misses my nose and crashes into the wall, splattering glass fragments everywhere.

"Dad?", I ask terrified at the sudden attack.

"Bill!", he slurred, surprised to hear a familiar voice attached to the possible flesh bag he just attacked without notice. "What are you doing at home when you should be slumming it at school?", he enquired though he seemed uninterested at the answer.

No apologies for nearly killing me. They say time rounds off all edges, I guess it did to my memories. The freshness of his apathy to my wellbeing was rather jarring and terrifying. I regressed twenty years, the blow sent me back to the teenage years when he would rain blows on me.

"Nothing dad", I stuttered, "I just caught a stomach bug. The nurse told me to take rest of the day off and rest. So I came home." I winced at the lie my rather foolish younger self just said to cop out this explosive situation. He doesn't know what comes next. I pray that this is a chance to change the past for the better. That is all I can do. Pray.

"Mmmm...", he said, "Then what are you still doing down here. Bugger off and keep it down. Make any noise and I will chew your head off."

"Ssssure Dad", I said, still stuttering as I made my way up the stairs to my room, trying to make as little noise as possible.

As I walked up the stairs, the reason for Dad's drinking mood came to me. Recently he was suspended for beating up a teenage boy inorder to force him to confess to the recent string of robberies occuring in the town. It had happened before but this was the first time they actually took away his deputy sherrif badge and his official gun. That pissed him off to no end. After breaking half the stuff in the kitchen, he settled on downing bottle after bottle of hard liquor.

My dumb body lay on the bed but it was hardly relaxed. I remember what I was thinking of that night. The ramblings in my head should have gone

"WTF! Dad is pissed. What should I do? Oh my god, what can I do? If he finds out that I got suspended, he will kill me. Shit. Mom is out of town, now who will control him. No no no ... He will not find out. I will not let him find out. Shit, I am screwed if he finds out. Maybe I should just bail and head out of town for this week and take care of this later. Wait ... Why should I be the one leaving town. Those pipsqueaks are the ones that brought this trouble. I can't wait to break their bones"

"Those damn nerds", I hissed.

"BILL!", he roared.