SHORT STORIES{collection]

Untitled Part 21

The soapy water slowly dripped off the square black plate. I watched the tiny lemon-scented bubbles pop and burst down the twirling patterns of ceramic, before I wiped the plate clean with a towel.

I looked up and out the thin dirty window, watching the heavy rain pummel the road. It's falling so hard, the water is almost bouncing back up to the murky sky above.

All the plates and cutlery are finally clean. My name badge should read Dishwasher instead of Henrietta, because the Blue Moon certainly can't afford one, not without firing me, at least that's what Simon tells me.

This is my life now, working in the Blue Moon Diner. I should accept it, washing plates, serving slightly ignorant customers who assume I won't understand English before I open my mouth. I've not been doing it long, but this was never meant to become my life.

I had another life, a more purposeful, exciting life...but that's a lifetime away, I've not even been born yet.

I was supposed to come back to the year 2098, to assassinate Prime Minister Anna Stewart. I was supposed to arrive in Chester, a small city in England to destroy her when she was still in her mother's stomach, but I somehow ended up in Roswell, New Mexico in 1998.

As soon as I woke in the hospital, and discovered the year and location, I knew my mission was over. It hurt me more than the journey.

I only had so much intel about Anna Stewart's history, and coming back too soon meant I had nothing else to go on.

I was scared and alone. I had travelled across an ocean of time, leaving my family and friends behind, to save them in the future, our present, but now I was destined to die in the wrong time, and for no heroic reason.

In a panic I escaped the hospital, I tried to talk to people to explain what had happened, even if it risked messing up the timeline. What would it matter when I was doomed to live out the nineties?

Naturally people thought I was insane. Would you believe someone who told you they were actually from the future, or would you think they're crazy?

I didn't have any physical proof other than my pistol, and I couldn't risk that getting into the wrong hands. Thankfully when I arrived in the alley, just before the car hit me, I threw my backpack under the dumpster. It was still there when I escaped the hospital.

The next logical step then, would be to try and mention up and coming events, so I could easily prove I'm from the future.

Simon reluctantly took me in, gave me the job at the Blue Moon on September 2nd 1998, three weeks after my arrival. I think he pitied me, more than he fancied me, but he most certainly didn't believe my story.

I kept telling him to wait for it, to watch the news on October 3rd 1998. I didn't say what was coming up, and I didn't give any hints. I didn't want to risk him spreading the word and affecting the timeline.

Today is October 4th 1998, and there was no plane crash at Coney Island.

So not only am I in the wrong time period, I'm somehow in the wrong reality too, things are slightly different here.

"I'm so sorry, I wanted to believe you," Simon said, with a sympathetic smile.

"So the event didn't happen, it's still true!" I protested. "I'm from the future!"

"No, listen," Simon raised his voice. "The day you arrived, you got hit by a car right?"

"Yes, we've been over this, you think it knocked me insane!"

"What I think, is that now is the time to get help, professional help," he pleaded. "I know you told me never to ask you this again, but please be honest with me, you always say you escaped the hospital...were you in the psych ward?"