Day One on The Run

Having fun with time is one thing, playing with time is a whole different suitcase. I’m on the run for playing with time. I am the largest timekeeper in this century. My name? Sandra Alice Lee, Former Timekeeper, now a runaway and fugitive.  

It’s five in the morning, and I had to leave my post and cut all ties. I’m going to miss my friend Ayeshanna. I hope to God that they don’t punish her for my crimes against the Time Agency. I’m in a car in a rural town called Two Pikes. Two Pikes has a tiny population, a population of about three hundred. The schools must be tiny... With a kid or two in the graduating class.  That’s just sad.

It’s probably not a good idea, me recording this. For one thing, it could get in to the enemy’s hands and let them know that we can already travel in time. On the other hand, the Time Agency could get their hands on this and be able to find me. Maybe it’s just safer to burn all of these recordings.

But where’s the fun in that? I live in the threat of danger. Why do you think I joined the Time Agency? I would have stayed, but they were going into some deeply controversial stuff, and I asked too many questions about said stuff. I knew too much for a lowly probationary agent. They had to cut me off. Two days ago, I almost lost my life to a gunshot. The shooter was well aimed, but it was because of my cup that fell that I’m still living. Then yesterday, when I walked into my office, there were strangers at my desk, ruffling through my stuff. I saw my boss turn his head and look right at me and yell “There she is!” When the searchers were looking at me, he mouthed “Run!” I looked at him, and looked at the gunmen, and took off. I ran to the windows- off of the fiftieth floor and pressed my time manipulator. I closed my eyes shut until I landed, lying softly on straw-like grass. I opened my eyes and saw a field as long as the eye can see of golden colored four feet tall grass. I stood up and looked around. No scenery except for the grass. Nothing to know or tell where or when I am. No mountains, roads, trees or hills. Just flat grassland. I looked at my time manipulator to see if it would shed some light on the place where I am.r

Apparently, I’m on a farm outside of Topeka Kansas. When? Nineteenth century. Not good. “Why wouldn’t it be good? You’re out of your time.” Yeah, I’m out of the time zone, but this is the first place they’d come look. They know that I love the nineteenth century. They also know that I grew up in Kansas. So, they’d probably look here first. I picked up my time manipulator, and tried to think of somewhere else. Twenty second century Madagascar. No, Twentieth century England. World War two. NO! I would so go to each of these places. Sixteenth century England. Lady Jane Grey. NO! Again, anything in England and U.S. wouldn’t work. Where have I not been? Tricky question, because I’ve been practically everywhere. Arkansas in the Nineties. I haven’t been there, nor would I want to go. Arkansas, for me is pretty boring. Been to Little Rock, and couldn’t stand it. I don’t know how long I can stay here without going mad.

I pressed my TIme Manipulator, and ended up in front of a vacant house in Siloam Springs, Arkansas. The time is 8:02 in the morning, December fifth, 1997. I looked at my surroundings. I was on a dead-end street. On the right side of the road, there are only two houses, and a big enough field in between. On the left side, there was three houses, and a big field. At the end of the big field on the left, you can see another street. The trees at the end of the road I am on are bare, a few trees carrying only two leaves each. Up the road is two cross roads and Main Street. I looked around at who was outside. Just a random bike rider. How he was riding his black trek bike in this cold weather, I don’t know. That’s a question for another day. I walked into the vacant house. The french doors welcomed me into a crappy, no flooring one story house. As I trailed through dirt and more dirt, until I reached the second bedroom at the end of the hallway. There, I was welcomed by a warm looking bed and flooring. This should’ve been a clue that they knew I’d come here. Instead, I didn’t care. I am tired, therefore, I’m going to take a nap in my new bed.

I woke up an hour later. How did I know? Because that’s what my Time Manipulator said. I looked around, and out the window that was maybe a foot tall, approximately a foot from the ceiling, and saw the final red and purple rays of the setting sun. I got up, walked out of my door, and into the dirt hallway. I decided that I’d explore the area a little more. Apparently, this house has three bedrooms, only one of them had a floor and stuff in it. It had a bathroom, and lots of closets. I walked outside to check the surroundings, the neighborhood. I walked down many streets, nearly getting lost. Eventually, although it’s hard for me to admit it, I did get lost- in downtown Siloam Springs. How did I get lost in downtown Siloam when there’s only two or three streets in downtown? Don’t ask me, I don’t’ know. Instead of panicking, I pressed my time manipulator, and ended up in front of the house that I was before, with one thought, “I can only stay here for so long.” Before I could open the doors, someone yelled, “HEY! You’re trespassing on the Stephens’ property!” I stopped in my tracks. Did she just say Stephens? I turned around, and saw my old friend’s mother, and smiled.

“Kara! Long time, no see!” I said, smiling, running up to her to hug her. She stepped back, with a look of... Hatred? Scared look? I don’t know, I can’t explain it. I thought she knew I was a time agent...

“Who are you?” She asked, her voice quivering with fear. She kept stepping back.

“I’m Elizabeth,” I paused, to see if she would recognise the name.  “You know, the Time Agent you know?” I waited to see the recognition. It never came. “Sorry, it’s probably a little too early in your time stream. In a few years, around the two thousands, I am one of your sons and daughter’s friend. I lived here in the summers until I was in College. Basically, I am one of the Stephens, just later in time.”

“How do I know that you’re part of a Time Agency that doesn’t exist because no one can travel in time?” She yelled, a little angry.

“I have a Time Manipulator. The Time Agency is the government’s best kept secret. Nobody really knows about it, so I would like it if you wouldn’t shout it out. Besides, I’m kind of on the run from the government, and they have a radar on me now. It was nice to see you this young Kara, but now I really have to go to a different time. Bye, Kara!”

I pressed my Manipulator, and thought of Siloam in the two thousands. This was going to be a little difficult, because now the house is occupied by my grandparents. I could possibly live in the Wheelchair factory next door, but that place is extremely uncomfortable. I guess if I can deal with no floors, I can deal with the wheelchair factory.

I opened the doors, and pleasantly found it soothing. Apparently the old Wheel Chair Factory is now a massage studio, which must make it at least around 2003 or later. I looked at the desk on the left hand side, next to the bathroom. Seeing that the bathroom is complete, that would make it 2006 or later. I looked at the pictures on my grandfather’s desk, and saw three of me, one of my cousin, and two of my mother. Judging by the pictures of me, one of me in the third grade, wearing a blue, Mexican-styled dress, being the newest one on his desk meant that I was probably nine, and in the fourth grade. We didn’t send him that photo until I started the fourth grade. This meant it was 2008. It was winter, by the looks of the trees. I decided that I should look around, see if our family friend, Debra moved into the studio as well. I opened the door across from the front door, and looked around. Just a bed, neatly made, welcoming me in. I smiled, remembering the last time I was here.

I just started working for the Time Agency, and needed a place to stay. My first assignment was Siloam Springs, AR. The assignment went horribly arie, and was discarded from my file, and they made me go through a memory eraser. All I remember about the assignment was that something had gone wrong with time, or someone told another person about the Agency, and they sent me to rectify the problem. It didn’t go well. On Christmas Day, I decided to go back, and find out what was missing from my mind. I went back to Siloam, and found nothing. No one told me anything about what had happened there, a few months earlier.

I went to the town’s public library, and found no trace of the disturbance that caught the Agency’s attention. No newspapers, no books, no personal accounts on anything. The incident was completely wiped from Time, if something can completely be wiped from TIme. I tried to dig deeper, but I ran into the Stephens’ again. I found out only one thing, that they were involved with the Agency, and that they always had a bed made in their house. They also never went in, and they invited me to join them in the bed use. I politely declined, but asked what had happened. They said that they would never tell me.

Technically, I wasn’t in Arkansas, because I don’t remember it. Not one lick of time spent in there, except for now, on the run.

I unfolded the covers and slid inside them. As soon as I layed my head down on the pillow, I was out like a rock. I began to dream of what is to come for me, both the good, and the evil parts came in from the time stream flowing into my head like an ice cold, rocky river. I began to shiver from the stream’s cold thoughts of what is to come.

I opened my eyes. All I saw was bright yellow grass covering everything. I stood up, and saw the four-foot grass covering all the scenery. Everywhere the eye went, all it could see was yellow grass.

“This is my past,” I thought aloud in my dream. “I thought you were going to show me the future!” Screaming the last, I was hurdled into a brown and gold twister, floating over the countryside of Oklahoma. The twister’s wind jerked and jostled me around until I flew head first into a brick house, and lost consciousness.

A two second splurge of energy, and I opened my dream eyes in a hospital on a cloudy day. The TV was blaring with a report of an electrical tornado, with thousands dead. The noise from the TV was covering the beeping noise from my medical instruments next to me keeping me alive. As my vision continued to clear, I saw multiple blurs of blue and white. Doctors, standing over me with masks over their faces. I saw a light, going across the vision field. The doctor on the right mumbled something that I couldn’t make out. The light grew brighter and brighter as my vision started  clearing. My hearing started to improve, but still not enough to hear nor understand what the doctors were saying.

About five seconds of grumbling, crackling, loud and visible thunder and lightning shook the hospital, and my bed pulled apart until I fell to my next segment. I closed my eyes, waiting for impact. Opening them just a crack to see how far away, I saw an open sea, and a ship. Not just any boat, one of the most famous ships in history, the unsinkable ship, the Titanic. My eyes widened as the Titanic nearly runs into me. The captain of the ship turns the boat, missing me, but hits the iceberg near me. The famous iceberg, the melting iceberg. The water was getting too cold for me, and I was developing Hyperthermia, but I continued to tread water as I watch the most famous shipwrecks in history happen before my very eyes.

Before I knew it, even this segment of the dream was coming to an end as a tiny piece of ice from the iceberg floated in circles around me, causing a whirlpool. I  gasped for air, for life, but my efforts were erasing. I gave up, and sank to the bottom. I awoke in a strange place.

Author's Note

So... Where do ya'll think I should go on from here?

I'm open to ideas, because I'm lost on where to go.

Reviews

[Calypso]

This sounds choppy, but I feel like I have no room to complain about that. Other then that nice idea.