Portal.

Of Time, and its Oddities

A/N: If you see [--], it's something I need to research/need to fill in. Remember, work in progress!

The beginning of the rest of her life began on November 7th, 2010.

She didn't know it yet, but the events of that day---and the choices therein---would affect the rest of her life. But before she was a Traveller, Ashley was ordinary.

Ordinary-ish­.

And so, in a small home in Boston, Ash made the first choice that would lead her to the rest of her life.

"Hey, Mum?"

Sarah Holland looked up from the old photo albums spread across the stylish glass table. She'd been at it for months; catergorizing every family member she could get a photo of, all the way back to her great-great-grandparents. "Yes?"

"Can I go outside? I'll just go for a walk around this block and the next, I won't be far. I won't talk to strangers, and I won't pat strange dogs, and I won't go anywhere that I haven't been.." One got the sense that this was a conversation uttered many times before, and that Ash, for one, was tired of it.

"Of course, you don't have to ask. Just close the door behind you, I don't want these papers blowing all over the place. And try to come back within a few hours. Okay?"

"Yep, will do." Ash grabbed her coat off a stand at the door. "Love you."

"Have fun, sweetheart. I'll be here if you need me."

As Ash closed the door behind her, a gust of wind blew in the house, catching the photos and scattering them around the room. Her last glimpse of her mother was a picture of her grasping vainly at the paper flying around the room.

Ash closed the door and breathed, finally. With a brisk wind biting her face, she pulled her hood further over her face, and set off at a brisk pace.

Though she was glad to leave, she almost wished Sarah had protested more. She shoved her earbuds deeper in her ears and turned left down a path that she hadn't taken in a while. Nothing like a bit of fresh air to clear the head, she thought.

A little while down her chosen route, she noticed a familiarly coloured jacket on the other side of the road. Another girl wearing her school uniform seemed to have the same idea to go for a late afternoon walk. She waved at Ash, who hurried to cross the road.

"Hi!" she called, but her voice was lost in the wind and the girl kept walking.

Ash kept walking in the girl's direction, but turned left, as if that had been her plan all along. We've all been there.

She found herself on an unfamiliar sidestreet, which looked no different than the rest of Boston's streets. Her eye caught an old door, set at a foot or so beneath the street level. It looked little different from other basement doors, but something about it caught and held her attention. It was almost as if it were a giant magnet. It had an odd aura that was like nothing Ash had evperienced. She felt heavy of heart and light of spirit, as if she was being lifted and held down at once. She imagined that was what Neil Armstrong felt on the Moon.

However, she articulated none of this clearly, mentally or otherwise. In the nature of humans, she took the most obvious course: investigate.

As she covered the distance to the door, the odd feeling grew only stronger. She noticed not the peeling paint, the rusted handle, and the missing bolts intended to hold a plaque on the door. She did, however, notice the dent in the door, where it had rusted through to reveal a bicked-over space behind it.