Self-destruction
Was I told not to touch the tools and machines in my father’s lab? All the time. Was I expected to listen and follow that rule at all times? Of course. Did that stop me from wandering into my father’s lab and touching things? Absolutely not.
My father worked in our basement which we called his lab. There was always some sort of noise going on, and in the limited visits I’ve received down there, there were electronics and stray parts everywhere. I never know what he’s working on, or how he manages to make money, but three meals a day and the roof over my head are strong pieces of evidence that somehow he does make money.
I wasn’t allowed in the lab. Of course someone is going to get curious if you tell them something is off …show more content…
The bags under my mother’s eyes didn’t exist. In front of me laid the younger versions of my parents. I’m sure the horror presented on my face was pretty comical, but I couldn’t find myself caring. This version of my parents was never truly mine. I had never seen them look so …show more content…
My dad’s Garfield calendar hung as usual on the fridge. I quickly grabbed it to inspect it. My blood ran cold after reading the date. Today was April 17th. Except instead of 2018, I was in 2004.
I took a walk around the house to try and calm down. How had I gone back 14 years? I had to get back to 2018 but I don’t know how.
Seeking comfort, I headed up to my room. Even though it won’t look how it did in 2018, the physical room was enough. I opened the door to my room and froze at the sight of a crib. My stillness allowed the soft breaths from inside the room to reach my ears. I slowly crept over to the crib and looked over the railing. The tiny little thing in front of me was what I used to be. I looked like that. In my shock, I reached out to touch her (Her? Me?). I really shouldn’t have.
I stroked her soft check with the tips of my fingers. The impossibility of the situation settled in my stomach. I pulled away so I could finally decide how to get home, when the earth started shaking. I hurled myself to the ground, not knowing how to proceed in the face of an earthquake. I stayed on the ground for over a minute before I decided something was wrong. I didn’t think that earthquakes last this long, and they don’t start getting
Was I told not to touch the tools and machines in my father’s lab? All the time. Was I expected to listen and follow that rule at all times? Of course. Did that stop me from wandering into my father’s lab and touching things? Absolutely not.
My father worked in our basement which we called his lab. There was always some sort of noise going on, and in the limited visits I’ve received down there, there were electronics and stray parts everywhere. I never know what he’s working on, or how he manages to make money, but three meals a day and the roof over my head are strong pieces of evidence that somehow he does make money.
I wasn’t allowed in the lab. Of course someone is going to get curious if you tell them something is off …show more content…
The bags under my mother’s eyes didn’t exist. In front of me laid the younger versions of my parents. I’m sure the horror presented on my face was pretty comical, but I couldn’t find myself caring. This version of my parents was never truly mine. I had never seen them look so …show more content…
My dad’s Garfield calendar hung as usual on the fridge. I quickly grabbed it to inspect it. My blood ran cold after reading the date. Today was April 17th. Except instead of 2018, I was in 2004.
I took a walk around the house to try and calm down. How had I gone back 14 years? I had to get back to 2018 but I don’t know how.
Seeking comfort, I headed up to my room. Even though it won’t look how it did in 2018, the physical room was enough. I opened the door to my room and froze at the sight of a crib. My stillness allowed the soft breaths from inside the room to reach my ears. I slowly crept over to the crib and looked over the railing. The tiny little thing in front of me was what I used to be. I looked like that. In my shock, I reached out to touch her (Her? Me?). I really shouldn’t have.
I stroked her soft check with the tips of my fingers. The impossibility of the situation settled in my stomach. I pulled away so I could finally decide how to get home, when the earth started shaking. I hurled myself to the ground, not knowing how to proceed in the face of an earthquake. I stayed on the ground for over a minute before I decided something was wrong. I didn’t think that earthquakes last this long, and they don’t start getting