A man stepped out of my fire place in 1742, scorched my twin sister, and proceeded to come after me. Just as he was in reach, I appeared in the rubble at Ground Zero with no idea as to how I got there. I told police I was from the 1700s, but they dismissed me. Torn from my family, I lashed out, hoping someone would help me find them. Instead, I was diagnosed with childhood schizophrenia and admitted to a New York psych ward.
Thirteen years later, it's time for my release. I've proven myself ready to integrate with society by always agreeing with my doctors, taking my medication, and keeping any weird hallucinations to myself. I believe everything they have told me: I didn't time jump; a traumatic event caused me to recreate a past in order to cope; and the family in my memories isn't real.
Even so, my best friend Elle tries to convince me the doctors are wrong, but I won't accept that. If I'm not crazy, why has no one come for me? Why have I spent the last thirteen years in a psych ward? Will Zack still like me if I'm not crazy?
It's time to find out.
