Bill had seen his mother stressed out like this many times before. He didn't know exactly what was bothering her right now, but it had to be something big. His mom had always had a lot on her plate, what with her high pressure job, with bills piling up, with her husband having a drinking problem, with her own parents being both elderly and quite ill, and with the uncertain fate of the futures of her two children, among other things. She tried to hide it, but Martha was two steps away from a nervous breakdown.
“Mom” said Bill calmly, trying to reassure her. Bill wanted to let her know that everything was going to be alright. He approached her slowly, laying a loving hand on her shoulder. Despite his good intentions, Martha ignored her son's affectionate gesture in a fit of self destructive anger.
“DAMN IT!” she yelled with a hint of oncoming tears, her face contorting into a caricature of frustration. “SOMETIMES I WISH THAT I WERE A KID AGAIN!”
As if on cue, the gemstone that Martha was holding in her hand suddenly erupted in an explosion of emerald light. Bill noticed the light trying to escape her grip.
“Mom! Look at your hand!”
“Oh my g...” was all that Martha could say before being cut off, as the mysterious light rapidly washed over the both of them.
A moment later, the front porch was empty. Martha and Bill were gone.
**
When Bill and Martha re-materialized, it was Bill who was the first to notice that something was wrong. His hand had been affectionately grasping his mother's shoulder, but now he was embracing some girl he didn't recognize. This girl looked about sixteen years old, just a year younger than Bill himself, but everything about her screamed that she was from the past. Her hairstyle, her clothing, her shoes. It's like she stepped right out a 1980s John Hughes movie.
“Who are you?” he asked inquisitively, and suddenly covered his mouth.
The girl whom he didn't recognize briefly glared at Bill. Then her jaw silently dropped.
As Bill looked around, he realized that he was no longer outside. He was in a bedroom meant for a teenage girl. However, everything about it was retro as well, from the bedspread, to the posters adorning the wall, to the carpeting, just like the girl herself. Bill assumed that it was this girl's room, but who was she, and how did they get here? Where was mom?
More importantly, why did Bill's voice sound so feminine all of a sudden?
Bill looked down and received his answer. He was now a woman, a much older woman, perhaps in her forties judging by the conservative nature of her clothing. His nails were long and coated in red polish.
A handsome looking middle aged man suddenly walked into the open bedroom door.
“Willow? Martha? Are you ladies ready to go out to dinner?”
Option 1: The year is now 1986. Martha has de-aged to her teenage self, and Bill has transformed into a younger version of his own grandmother Willow.
Option 2: Something else
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