Remember Me?

Chapter 1 - Jasmine

Where is it? I know I put a pencil in here somewhere, I think as I rummage through my purse. I had just gotten through security at the airport when I sat down at my gate to finish my book. As a writer for a huge publishing company, I need to complete hand-written drafts weekly. Usually, I am on time with my work, but lately, I have been stuck on the last few chapters of my new book, The Last Generation. It's supposed to be about this group of teenagers being the last people on the planet and their struggle to find contact with other humans, but I'm not sure how to end it. The last chapters are due tonight, and being under pressure enhances my ability to avoid writer's block. Hence, I need that pencil. I swear I brought one with me.

I scan the area, maybe someone will have a pencil. A girl talking on the phone. No. A man who is eating obnoxiously. No. A woman trying to control her three children. Definitely not. A tall man wearing glasses and reading in the airport seat in front of me. No...wait.

Glancing back at the tall, mysterious man, I decide he is my best chance at having a pencil. I gather up my courage, stand up, and walk towards him. Gently tapping his shoulder, I greet him with a smile. "Hello, my name is Jasmine Gold. I was wondering if you had a pencil I could borrow? I am trying to finish writing my book but—"

"I have one in my backpack, hold on," he replies with a deep voice, cutting me off mid-sentence. It wasn't until he handed me a pencil did our eyes lock. A shiver went down my spine. Have I been here before? Those sky blue eyes seem a bit familiar. I shrug it off, smiling.

"Thank you so much, I'll return it before I board my flight," I inform him before he puts up his hand to stop me.

"No, please, keep the pencil. I don't really need it anyway, my name is Hyun-woo by the way," he responds, shaking his hand. I thank him again before going back to my seat and beginning to write.

"All passengers for Flight 032 from Los Angeles, California to Miami, Florida, please board now," the airport attendant announced. Checking my watch, I groan as I note that I only have been writing for ten minutes. At this pace, I'll never finish my book. I'll just finish the book on the plane, I conclude as I gather my carry-ons and drag myself onto the plane. I look for my seat and let out a sigh of relief when I notice that I wouldn't be sitting next to anyone. Clearly, the flight is not fully booked, thank goodness. As I relax into the seat of the airplane, I continue to scribble down sentence after sentence in my notebook.

Halfway through the next page, my mind wanders to Hyun-woo, the man who lent me his pencil. Who was he? Why did I get this déjà vu feeling? It felt odd, I swear I have never met that man before. Shaking off my thoughts, I conclude the final chapter of The Last Generation. My watch reads 10:04. Only three more hours until we land. Deciding to take a nap, I lay my head on my pillow and drift off to sleep.

Suddenly, I am in an alleyway. "Ally, come on, we don't want to be late for our dinner date! I told the owner we'd be there by 6," a man of Korean descent with sky blue eyes states as he grasps my hand, pulling me down the street.

I try to ask who he is, but what comes out is different: "What's the occasion, Eunwoo?" I have never had dreams like this one. He stops pulling me and turns to lock eyes with me. Why do those eyes look familiar?

"Babe, I'm your fiancé, remember? It's customary for a man like me to take you on a date the week before we marry," he chuckles and kisses my cheek. "Let's head inside, the restaurant is through those doors."

I reluctantly obey, having an unsettling feeling in my stomach. Noticing how old-fashioned the restaurant looked, I wanted to question what year or day it was. The dusty jukebox, the smell of smoke from a cigarette, and the fact that it sounded like my 'fiancé' made reservations in person proved that we were not in the twenty-first century. The host gestures to our seats, and Eunwoo pulls out the chair for me to sit down. Picking up the menu, my eyes stare at the date at the top. June 25, 1952. "Can you believe this restaurant changes its menu so often that it has to reprint it every day? That's why the date is always the current one," Eunwoo explains, somehow reading my mind. Why is my mind taking me to this time? This dream must have some hidden meaning. I take note of my surroundings: a restaurant sign titled Han's Kitchen with a light brown background, maroon chairs, and a jukebox playing jazz music.

"Miss? Miss? What would you like to drink?" the waiter asks me. As I look at him, the voice starts to sound like a woman.

"Miss, are you awake?" the flight attendant gently says as I stir from my sleep. I always thought flight attendants weren't supposed to wake passengers. I am guessing this young lady was not told that, but thanks to her, I escaped that weird dream. As I order an iced tea, I let the dream I just had sink in. Why was my name Ally? I shrug off the feeling of déjà vu once again and gratefully take the iced tea the flight attendant hands me.

Thinking about it more, the blue eyes the man in my dream had closely resembled the man in the airport's eyes. What was his name again? Hyun-woo, I remember. I wonder if they are connected somehow.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Thank you for reading my first chapter! I am going to try to publish at least one or two chapters per week since I have a lot of time on my hands before college starts. Please vote, comment, and share if you want to see more! Don't be afraid to suggest what you think should or will happen next! Remember, I will probably come back to this after I finish the whole book and edit/proofread it. If you would like to help out for free now, please do not hesitate to message me and we can work together to do so.

— Hannah Cohen