32 GB - Mikhaiah Fanfiction

4 - Lost in Time

Cebu, Philippines - March 27, 2024

I'm inside my home... or her home.. or whatever the hell this is

Maybe I truly am losing my mind. The shame of it gnawed at me, but I was desperate-desperate to understand what's happening to me. Crying in front of a stranger, letting them see my fear and confusion, felt like the worst kind of torture. I couldn't help but feel utterly pitiful, almost embarrassed by my own helplessness.

As I stepped into the living room, my breath caught in my throat. It was my house, but everything was wrong-everything was different. The familiar warmth was gone, replaced by sleek, cold surfaces and strange, glowing devices that hummed softly in the background. The walls, once adorned with floral wallpaper and framed family portraits, were now bare, painted in a stark, minimalist gray.

It was like nothing I'd ever seen-a room straight out of a fantasy, with its sleek lines and strange devices. The furniture was minimalistic, not a hint of the cozy clutter I was used to. And the television? Well I'm guessing it's a television Good heavens, it sat on the table, thinner than any book, yet it flickered with images so clear they looked almost real.

"That's a television? Wow it's so compact and small. Ours were bulky and heavy" I say bending over to have a closer look at the device.

"No that's just a laptop" She replied

"Laptop? What's a laptop?" I asked her with a confused look on my face.

"Oh um... Huh how do I say this... Oh! Like a typewriter? Do you know what a typewriter is?" She replied

"Yeah... of course. Oh wow... So they made paper a screen, do you just pull off the screen and send it like that." I say

"No silly, It's just a screen, you have to print it out. It's might be a bit too complicated for you too comprehend... Wait a sec... I'll show you the tv." She said as she fumbled on the big black rectangle on the wall.

It hit me.

This wasn't just a different time; it was a different world.

I walked over to where the lady stood.

I reached out, my fingers trembling as they brushed against the flat, black rectangle on the wall-a television, but nothing like the bulky set I had once known. It was impossibly thin, almost like a window into another world.

I took a shaky step back, overwhelmed by the strangeness of it all. This was my home, yet it wasn't, all these strange devices were scary... It felt dystopian.

"If you don't mind, may I ask how old you are again?" She said, breaking the silence.

"Me? I'm 23...."

"Well right now I'm 23." I paused "I mean not right now, umm... I mean my body is 23." I said... All this was confusing me.

"Okay okay. Me, I'm 20." She chuckled "My name's Micah by the way, Micah Andrea Lim." She added

"By the way, I don't really have extra cooked food right now other than leftover rice. I do have a tray of eggs in the fridge though, you can cook that."

"Oh, alright then. Do you want some, too? I can cook up a pretty decent meal," I said with a confident smile, trying to hold on to a sense of normalcy.

"I've already eaten."

"Ah, I see."

"I'll just show you where everything is. Come with me," she said, turning toward the kitchen without waiting for my reply.

Every room was different from what I remembered, each space a strange, modern version of my old home. I think I'm slowly coming to terms with just how upside-down everything is. Maybe it's the inevitable truth-I'm lost in time.

"You have the house all to yourself? What do you do for a living?" I asked, hoping to keep the conversation going, to keep my mind from spinning.

"Ah, yes, my parents bought it for me. I'm a film student, and I do some freelance photography on the side," she replied casually.

"Oh, I could model for you," I quipped, letting out a small chuckle, trying to inject some humor into the surreal situation.

"I'll think about it," she said, laughing along with me.

Right now, my only goal is to stay on her good side. I think I've earned a little of her trust, at least enough for her to keep helping me.

We reached the kitchen and she opened the weird dull grey fridge. She took a tray of eggs and sat it on the counter.

"Do I just spin this like a normal stove?" I asked, eyeing the unfamiliar controls with growing frustration

"Do I need to press anything else? Is this thing even o-"

Before I could answer the question, she sighed and said, "Never mind, sit down. I'll do it myself."

I reached for the pan, but our hands collided as she reached for it too, the awkwardness hanging between us.

"No, no, I've got it," I insisted, gently pushing her hand away.

"Are you sure?" She asked, unsure whether to let go or keep trying.

"Yes, really. Cooking is simple enough; your stove is just...peculiar," I said, smiling as I took control.

"Ah," She muttered.

"It's flat, no spinning coils, but I suppose it's innovative," I continued, trying to make sense of the modern contraption.

"Maybe it saves on materials." she added thoughtfully.

I didn't know how to respond, so I continued cooking while she watched my every move. It was a painfully tense atmosphere between us at the moment. I thought "can she stop staring?" I can't focus on actually doing what I need to do.

"I'll stay at the living room, I have to finish some things." She said

"Oh, go ahead." I replied.

Before she walked off, I saw her grab some things on the counter from the corner of my eye. I couldn't pin point what it was but it was box shaped.