temporary fix || george harrison

06%

Juliet 

"Time is fluid. It's a trickster. Turn your back on him and he'll make you live to regret it." The wizened old lady said to me with a solemn voice, her old crinkly hands clasping mine with the ring clasped in the middle.

I turned my head to the side at her strange words and shrugged them off. She's just old and off her rockers, there's no possible conception that a ring could control time.

"How much do you want for it, Ma'am?" I asked her kindly, trying to get her to ease up.

The old woman, named Mary, shook her head and removed her hands from mine and placed them outwards.

"I won't take a single pound. The Lord only knows you can't put a price on such a relic." She said firmly, handing me back my bank note.

"Are you sure, ma'am?" I asked with a tight smile, and once more she refused my money.

"Please, just take it love. And heed my warning, do not use it. It can lead to great disruptions in the universe."

With that, I took the purple geode stone ring and slipped it onto my index finger and left the shop.

My day went by with no hitches or tricks, and I felt rather off from what that old woman had said to me earlier this morning. What could a ring possibly do to interrupt the universe?

With insatiable curiosity I peered down at my ring as I sat cross legged on the floor of my flat, an early Beatles record playing on my record player.

I twisted the geode to the right and my body twisted and morphed at the rush of air blasting through me. I gasped at the sudden change in scenery. I landed right in the middle of Oxford Square, right as I had been just a few hours ago.

The old woman wasn't just spouting some random shit... she was dead on. The ring was a time traveling one, and it certainly just tricked me.

I lived my day again once more, except I didn't return to the antique shop where that old woman sold me the ring.

I found myself sitting on the cold hardwood floor of my flat once again, listening to the same vintage Beatles record from 1962, admiring the ring with caution.

Not wanting to send myself back in time again and get caught in an endless loop, I handled it from the band. Turning the band to take a gander at the stone placed atop of it.

One wrong twist, I dropped the ring and cursed as the ring snapped and I was sucked into a vacuum like whole of pitch black.

I woke up screaming, clutching my throat, searching for air. Red hot tears seared my cheeks as I cried for my life that was pissed away just because of a stupid ring.

George scrambled in with Ringo and I could only assume John and Paul, all tripping over each other's legs and falling into a messy heap beside me. I realized I was on the couch from earlier, and I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle my sobs.

This was wrong. I can't be here. Two out of the four are dead and I'm ruining everything. 

"Holy roller, love! Are you 'right?" John asked me, George just sitting there with an awestruck look on his face.

I didn't dare make a move, I was afraid it would change too much in time. It was only 1962, the Beatles haven't even made it yet and I could be the one too change that.

"Christ, George, 'splain wot happened to your girlfriend again, yeah?" Ringo asked as the four of them got up and surrounded me like a wall.

I brushed away my tears and searched my pockets for my ring, but to no avail. I found a banknote from my time, 2016, and a piece of mint gum I'd forgotten to chew.

"She asked me the date, and began to blitz out. I had no idear she'd keel over." George said with remorse, and more tears spilled over from my eyes.

The kindest soul I've ever met, and he dies.

"Cor blimey- you're making the bird cry! 'Ello, love. How are you? Is your head on?" Paul asked me tentatively, kneeling over beside me.

He brought a hand up to brush away some hair from my eyes and I blinked back tears.

"George, can I speak with you? Alone?" I croaked, clearing my throat. He nodded in agreement, helping me up from the couch and we both walked into an open room and shut the door behind us.

When we were sure none of the lads were listening, George asked me what was the matter.

"Is everything hunky-dory, love? You took a proper spill back there." George brought up a hand to my cheek and I took it within my own and squeezed it tightly as I prepared to lay down the truth.

"I'm not just Juliet, George. Coincidentally my real name is Juliet, Juliet Bishop. I'm from the future." I admitted, and George laughed out loud.

"Oh come on, I'd thought you were right knocked up!"

I shook my head with more tears sliding down my cheeks with impressive speed.

George soon realized I wasn't tugging his chain, and his eyes widened. This was a concept previously unknown to man, certainly he'd have his doubts.

"That's impossible, Juliet. How d'ya know you're from the future? Could it just be a rank  trip you're on?" George tried to reason with me, running his famous long fingers through his recently cropped hair.

I closed my eyes, and shook my head. I couldn't even look at him, feeling so guilty knowing that he was dead in the time I belonged to.

"Okay, say that you are from the future. How'd ya land here?" George took my other hand gently and squeezed them reassuringly, and I opened my eyes and responded.

"I bought a ring, that supposedly manipulated time. I was listening to one of your younger albums and I dropped and broke the ring. That's all I can remember. But George- this is terrible. It was safe when I didn't know who I was because now I know everything. I know the past, the present and the future. I can't muck it up." I blubbered but George adamantly shook his head with a gentle smile.

"You couldn't muck anything up, even if you tried, love."

"No no this is exactly what I'm going on about! You can't call me love we can't be mates we can't be anything! I could be putting our futures in jeopardy, George!" I wailed, and George brought me into his chest with a tight bear hug.

With his slender but toned arms, he engulfed me in one of the most loving and secure hugs I'd ever received. Rubbing small circles on my back, he comforted me with sweet nothings and mentioned nothing of my monumental mistake.

"We have to do something." I wept, and he reluctantly shook his head.

"But how, love? Couldn't scouting and mixing with time, do more harm than good?" George said, raising a valid point that I hadn't thought of.

Somehow, the thought of being stuck here with 19 year old George Harrison didn't frighten me as much as it should.

But ruining his future did.