How To Go Back in Time Book One: Chapter Seven

We stood outside the bar after it had closed, too drunk to drive. The only car in the parking lot
was our own own. Around it, was the midnight chirping of crickets. Just behind a thin layer of fog was
the illuminating moon. Around it, was a bay of stars.
James sat against a wall, clutching his head in his arms. He let out a stiff groan and said, “I feel
sick.”
I turned to him with a curious look. “Yeah, well, you’ll feel better tomorrow. My cure works,
you know.”
“Like hell I will.” He said. “Your hangover cure doesn’t work.”
I turned to him. “James, do you understand how long I’ve been drinking? This is nothing to me.
Ten shots of vodka? Done. Easy. Believe me, each morning it works for me. So, maybe, you could
just… believe once in a while, you—“
James interrupted me by puking onto the ground. I winced, and turned back. I didn’t need to see
that. “You alright?” I said, hidden behind shadows.
“Yeah, just a little—“
“…”
“Just a little sick, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I let out a sigh and turned back. We would be here a while. And though it was three A.M., and
the crickets were chirping, and the moon was glowing—I felt wide awake.
* * *
AND NOW, YOU’RE BRAND NEW T.V. CHANNEL
(BUILT FOR CELESTIAL TRANSMISSION)
“Wake up, Mr. Sander.”
“It’s time to wake up.”
“I need you to wake up.”
The air in the room was different, I noticed. Like really rotten flowers. Something disgusting
trying so hard to be beautiful. Like a caterpillar melting in it’s cocoon. It will all be over soon, my
sweet. All over soon.
I rose and rubbed my eyes. I stretched. Yawned. The room was dark, though I must’ve fallen
asleep with the television still on. It was just a dim, buzzing green.
I paused for a moment and looked to my left. “Hello, Mr. Sander.” It said. “My vessel has been
burned in an effort to get to you. I am piloting our own dead body.”
I screamed and fled to the kitchen. My hands reached for the phone and they rattled.
“That’s fine, no need to speak.” It said. “I’m completely fine with just being alone.”
A dead body was speaking to me. It’s flesh was charred and mutated. You could see through it’s
stomach and into it’s blackened insides. “I’m calling the police!”
“Mr. Sanderrrrrrr, I can assure you calling the police won’t help. It won’t even work!”
For some reason, I felt that that was true. I wanted to speak to it, but I didn’t wanna look at it.
From behind the wall, I cowered. “And why’s that…?”
“Because, I astral projected to meet you here. I’m inside your dream. You are not in the material
world right now.”
“To meet me? Why?”
“I wanted to meet you so I can change the past.”
That’s what I wanted to do. I slunk down and breathed a sigh of relief. I felt calm. “Why do you
wanna change the past? Who even are you?”
“I am you, Mr. Sander. The past must be changed, so I astral projected here, to guide you into
changing your fate. Our life never added up the way it was supposed too. Too many regrets, mistakes.
Simply put, we deserve a second chance. Do you understand now?”
I was dreaming right now, that I knew. And this was a dream that I’d wake up from and know
that it was a dream. Nothing mattered. “I think so, yes.”
“Good. It took blood and fire. Pain and suffering. But I am here, Irwin. I am finally… here.”
* * *
YOUR TRANSMISSION HAS BEEN INTERRUPTED,
BACK TO THE PRESENT
I woke back up under the light. A moth circled the light, and tried to climb inside. For some
reason, it seemed to really want suicide. And the more I thought about how moths chase light, the more
sad I got. It was programmed to die.
“Irwin, man, are you okay?” James asked, stumbling.
I rubbed my face and tried to snap back into reality. I sat up. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think. Had a
weird dream, I think.”
“You know that if you say it,” a hiccup,”it comes true. So, just, don’t say it. I need you to not
say the dream out loud, Irwin.”
“Well, it was—“
“SHHH! Don’t say it out loud. Don’t speak.”
“What exactly happened?”
He paused and finally stood still. “One minute you were just sitting there, and then you passed
out. Were you really tired? Drunk?”
I jangled the keys in my pocket. “You ready to go home?”
“Hold on a minute… can you really drive?”
“Yes, I am sober now. I can drive.”
That might’ve been a lie, but it didn’t matter. I just needed to get home.