Forward - Chapter 2

Where am I?

I take a hesitant step forward. Big mistake. Muddy water swirls around my ankles. As dignified as I can muster, I stepped out of the puddle and onto the cement pavement of the street. After travelling through time occasionally, I understand some parts of the future human race - but not everything. Not enough to help me understand their purpose.

It’s quite a busy day - market day, perhaps? I still don't know the correct word for that in the present day. There are so many people bustling about, chattering and shouting at one another. Large metal machines raced past the people, barely missing them. I remembered seeing them once, from far away, but never this close. And they were different this time, too, sturdier and more colourful.

All these people! They looked so different to the people I am used to. Their clothes, the paint on their faces, the way they talk. Compared to the people I know, from my time, they are aliens.

I look down at myself, horrified, to see that I am dressed in similar fashion. Though I have to admit they feel more comfortable than the scratchy plain cotton we were forced to use, I feel incredibly out of place.

“Excuse me,” I ask one of the girls walking by. “What’s the date?” Awkwardly brushing the hair out of my face, I try to appear calm. I know I look like a nine-year-old girl, but I feel so much older. 

The girl tosses her black hair out of her face, chewing something. She has one hand on her hip as if posing for a picture, which makes me deeply uncomfortable. She glances at her watch, then at her friends, who are giggling. “July 8th. It’s a Wednesday.” She starts to walk away, but I grab her wrist. She glances at my hand, then pulls away, panic flashing across her face. Before, I would have thought time-travelling was crazy too. But I knew that once I departed, I would be forgotten, so it didn't matter. I could dance across the roads in colourful silks while sitting atop an elephant, and no one would remember a thing.

“What year is it?” I demand. 

She looks me up and down, incredulous. Clearly, she thinks I’m out of my mind. I guess I kind of am.

“It’s 2015. God, where have you been? Under a rock? Hiding in the mountains? You better go back to where you came from, sweetie.” Laughing, she skips away, linking arms with the two other girls. As they disappear into the rest of the crowd, becoming a part of it, I see them glancing back at me, sneering.

I freeze in the middle of the street. People swarm around me, talking loudly to each other. Some are shouting at rectangular blocks of metal in their hands. Girls shriek with laughter, children swarm around my knees. I can’t pay attention.

It's 2015.

I’ve been travelling far too long. My energy is dimming, and I feel dizzy. Pain racks throughout my body, and I can’t breathe. People push at my back, moving me around like a toy. I stumble into an abandoned section of the market. I’m a million years old, but I still looked like a nine-year-old. My mind is so much older than I look. Exactly how old am I? How would I know? I don’t have birthday parties, I don’t have any way to count my age.

Glancing around, I absorb the knowledge of others, learning what I could never learn when I was young. Maybe it was one of the perks of having my ‘curse’. I learn about the industries, the people, the countries. The wars that have been won and lost, the new drinks and foods and waste-of-space junk that have been invented lately. I absorb the knowledge of all of the teenagers around me; after all, that is what I feel like now.

Focusing, I alter my image in my head to make myself look older. My body grows larger and taller, and my hair grows longer. Relaxing, I try to nonchalantly walk around the street. I have to find out where I am. Have to figure out what I am supposed to do with my life. If I keep disappearing, then what will happen? Will I die? Can I die? Am I cursed to be immortal forever, travelling through time, learning all there is to learn until the end of the world? 

The world smells strange - like gas and smoke and oil mixed together. The gases choke me, making me stumble across the street in a very unladylike fashion. I stop after a moment of battling the crowd pulsing against me, leaning against one of the stalls.

“Hey,” The man behind the stall winks at me. I turn my head away slightly, embarrassed. A little boy hides behind him, playing with colourful plastic blocks of wood. When I don’t reply, the man steps out and around his stall, like a hunter stalking deer for prey. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He leers.

My head snaps towards him. “I’m not your sweetheart, you filthy old man. Leave me alone.” I stand up again and start walking away from his stall. He calls after me, but I don’t listen. I need to find somewhere I can maybe stay, but it’s going to be a problem. As I start thinking about my future, I hear screams.

“GET OUT OF THE WAY!” Somebody screeches at the top of their lungs.

I turn

and freeze

a car

a car

the man

his child

the stall

flashes of white

screams

Dark