Timeless *REWRITTEN* (Beetlejuice x Reader)

Chapter 3

She wrenched her hand from mine, turned, and strode away. Chiara and I watched her until we could no longer see her skirts briskly swishing in the breeze. I swallowed thickly, taking a steadying breath. I had a feeling my younger sister might react this way, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. After all, she was my family. Chiara turned to me, tears brimming and spilling over the threshold of her hazel eyes as she firmly grasped both my hands in hers. 

"(Y/N), I beg you, reconsider. You have a life here already. Father, Rosetta, and I, we need..." She paused, seeming to correct herself. "...I need you." 

I gave her a small smile. "Then come with me. I know it seems impossible, but I promise I have a plan. We can face the unknown together." 

I held my breath, praying she would change her mind. My heart sunk when she looked back up at me, shaking her head slowly. "I can't. I must stay here." A moment of silence passed between us before my sister spoke again. "I do hope you make it." 

I smiled at her, a tear sliding down my cheek. She smiled back through her own tears. "Thank you, Chiara. I hope you are able to find the happiness you so deserve." 

She pulled me into her, kissing my cheek and wrapping me in a tight hug. I held her tightly, knowing in the back of my mind that this would be the last time I would ever hug my sister. The smell of the flowers interspersed in her hair would be something that would stick in my mind for years and years in the future. I pulled back from her, wiping her cheek as tears continued to trail down her face. 

"I love you, Chiara." 

"I love you too, (Y/N)." 

With one final squeeze of my hands, she let go. I grabbed my satchel and slung it over my shoulder, taking one final look back before turning and taking the foot path down to the small town a little ways from our property. I tried to slow my racing heart and calm my trembling hands. 

It wasn't as if I had never been out in town before. I frequently went on outings to make purchases for my family, in fact. But this was different. I was attempting to do something very illegal, and I didn't even know whether or not I would be successful. In all my preparations, I hadn't even stopped to consider what I would do should I be turned away. I didn't want to consider it. 

I shook myself out of my self-sabotaging line of thought, knowing if I even played with the idea of turning around and giving up, I might cave and never leave. I couldn't give up before I had even attempted to make a better future for myself. I resolutely continued on the path, the packed clay and earth beneath my feet turning to cobbled stone and brick. People walked up and down the street around me, all in their own little worlds. And even though it might have been a bit self-centered of me, the thought crossed my mind that no one I passed had any idea of what I was planning on doing. 

I did my best to avoid people who were acquaintances of my family who might recognize me, and made it through the main thoroughfare without a problem. I came to the docks, warily looking around me at the sailors and a couple of soldiers milling around, giving me scant glances before going back to loitering and lazy conversation. I walked to the end of the dock, glancing around me at the different boats and ships. I finally spotted an unassuming boat that had been described before as the underground's cargo ship. 

I walked up the ramp and knocked on the door above deck. A young man with brown curls opened the door, looking me up and down suspiciously. I swallowed nervously. 

"I'm here for a job opportunity," I said, the odd phrase being what I had learned was the phrase used for those wishing to leave through the resistance. 

The man, looking around my own age, arched an eyebrow at me curiously. "You want the job?" 

I ignored the condescending way he spoke to me and nodded, rifling in my bag and removing the money my father had given me along with a pair of diamond earrings. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as I held out my offering to him. 

"Here. I don't want to waste your time. I just need to get to America." 

He took the money and the jewelry from me, nodding slowly as he stepped to the side. "Alright, come on. We've got some clothes you're going to need to put on."

My brow furrowed in confusion as I walked into the cabin, looking around me. The man stuffed my money and earrings into his pocket before reaching into a drawer and pulling out a full outfit. It was a typical outfit for working class men: breeches, a white shirt, suspenders, shoes I could already tell were going to be a bit too big, socks, and a cap. I cocked my head in confusion as he handed me the bundle. 

"Why do I need to put these on?" 

He looked up at me. "If you don't want to catch the suspicion of the military, you'll need to blend in with the rest of the crew." He nodded to the cap. "Tuck your hair up into that and try not to talk a lot." 

I nodded nervously. This was more involved than I had thought. 

"My quarters are right down this passage; you're more than welcome to change in there." 

"Okay, thank you," I said, making my way to where he pointed me toward. I shut the door, making quick work of removing my dress and shrugging on the unfamiliar men's clothing. I had never felt pants before, but I had a newfound love for them after pulling them on for the first time. Glancing at the little mirror hanging on the wall, I tucked my hair up into the cap the blonde man had given me. 

I stood at my full height, examining my reflection. If you squinted and didn't look too closely, I thought I looked fairly convincing. I tucked my folded dress under my arm and opened the door, shutting the door on my past, and, though it hurt, my family.