I should be home right now. I wish I was home. Well, I am technically home, it’s just that… it’s just not… how can I explain this? What I’m trying to say is that I wish I was where I belong. I don’t belong in this time. And it’s just so bright here…my eyes really hurt! I’ve tried everything: putting my hands up to my face, covering my eyes with my hair, wrapping my scarf around my face, holding my head between my legs… it just won’t stop. I still see the light.
Somebody make it stop, please!
I scream at the people gathered in my room. How can so many of them fit in here? And I’m stuck. No matter what I do, or how many times I dial back the hands on the watch, I just can’t seem to escape this moment. Dialing forward isn’t making any difference, either. I keep ending up back here: on my bed, in my room, in the same second of the same hour: 9:07 am. And each time I get back here, it only gets brighter. It’s like the sun is dawning right here in my room. How is that even possible? You know what else? The same guy keeps showing up at the foot of my bed every time!
After the first time it happened, I thought it was a fluke in the time stream, and didn’t think much about it because I wasn’t planning on staying longer than a second anyway. Papa taught me about the Alternates (these are slight changes in the time stream): they don’t really make much of a difference unless you interact with them. Of course, it’s too late, by then, because they become permanent parts of your time line. For all I knew, this guy was the flooring specialist my parents had hired to come and do the new carpet for my room (I’m supposed to be getting a bedroom makeover for my 14th birthday). Anyway, I would have looked like a ghost to the guy out of the corner of his eye, and then I would have disappeared. He probably would have been a little spooked but, no biggie. I’m sure he knows ghosts aren’t real, and would’ve just forgotten about me… eventually.
The people in my room, all seem to have halos around their heads, just like angels. They were fading in and out of my vision before, but I can see them a lot clearer now. Oh, they are not angels, after all. I can see that they are just people; just people like me. I had hoped at least the man at the foot of the bed was one, but he isn’t an angel either. He is an Elder, just like everyone else in the room. I guess Grandfather’s pocket watch must have triggered an alarm with The Council of the 24. They must be here to help me. Thank God. Why don’t they hurry up all ready? What’s taking so long? I do wish one of them was an angel. I’d be out of this mess already.
Every time afterwards whenever I saw the guy, he glowed. The glowing got worse every time. By the fourth or fifth flight back here, I freaked out. Big time. I mean, really, like, “what’s this tall, blonde, muscular dude doing glowing in my room?” type of freaking out. This is why I thought he was an angel. He looked just like the pictures you see around Christmastime. People don’t glow. I almost fell off the bed. I thought I would never stop screaming. He’s here right now, actually, watching my every move, and glowing brighter as the minutes pass. His eyebrows are creased, like he’s worried about something, and every time I fly back to this moment, the crease gets deeper. For the sake of my eyes, and his eyebrows, it would be a good idea for me to figure out how to get home.
Hopefully, I’ll see you again in two weeks.
©Norine Acevedo and Norine’s Notebook, 2013
Camp NaNoWrimo April 2013