Time Machine (editing)

2 - ✓

The door creaked open a sliver, revealing Mrs. Henderson's face etched with worry. "Can I come in?" she croaked, her voice barely a whisper compared to its usual booming volume.

An unsettling mix of emotions churned in my stomach and I had no idea why I felt like this. I had witnessed some life threatening situations, so this feeling was something I just couldn't explain.

I'd stared down bullies, aced dangerous parkour climbs, even talked my way out of a detention or two. But this – this uncertainty, this stomach-tingling curiosity – was a completely new beast for me to fight against.

"We decided to hear you out," I blurted, surprising myself with the uncertainty in my voice. The truth was, a silent agreement had bloomed in the room, fueled by a shared sense of recklessness and a yearning for something beyond the ordinary summer sprawl. Even idiotic Briana sported a faint flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

"Yeah," chimed in Jake, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "We're ready for the crazy, Mrs. Henderson. Hit us with it."

"We believe you, partially." Jake added. "This might be insane, but for once, we want to be the ones who believe in the impossible." He ended with this and made a small standing ovation, sitting back into his chair. 

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo from a hard rock band against the uncertain silence of the classroom. Logic, the only valid voice of reason, screamed that this was a terrible idea to believe this nonsense, a one-way ticket to cuckoo land. But a wilder melody, the voice of not logic, sang a siren song of adventure, a chance to rewrite the bland script of my ordinary life. This was a gamble, a leap of faith into the unknown, and for the first time, I understood the allure it had. Regret might sting later, but the possibility of something extraordinary... that was a prize worth the risk.

Mrs. Henderson, her face a mask of relief after our initial skepticism, practically bounced into a chair. "Thank you kids! I promise you, it's real! Every bit of it!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands with an enthusiasm that bordered on manic. For a teacher, she was undeniably eccentric, but there was a raw honesty in her eyes that compelled belief. A rare quality in the jaded world of our school.

"Alright, then," she continued, her voice regaining its usual brisk efficiency. "Let's get started. Who's willing to..." She trailed off, letting the question hang in the air.

Briana raised her hand and pointed at me. "She is willing to! She said she believed you, so the right thing to do is her going on this journey." 

I instantly wanted to hit her, she outed me like that, before I could get the chance to weight what I would do, the decision solidifying in my gut. A collective gasp rippled through the room, replaced by a tense silence.

"I'll do it, as she said." I declared, my voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in my hands. "Look, it might be crazy, off the wall even, but I'm curious. If this time machine is real..." I trailed off, the doubt a bitter tang on my tongue.

"Boohoo loser!" Briana muttered under her breath, but even her usual venom seemed tinged with a grudging respect.

Did it make sense? Absolutely not. Was I crazy for believing it? Probably. But for the first time, I didn't care. The chance of time travelling and getting to rewrite history, to be a part of something extraordinary, was too tempting to resist. If it was true, of course.

Mrs. Henderson's eyes shone with a mixture of gratitude. "Are you sure, Sandra? This is serious. Someone's life, maybe even all of ours, rests on the actions you will do and changes you're about to make."

"I promise you, it's real!" She sat down and happily clapped her hands. 

"I... I am willing to give it a try. It sounds fun, I guess? And since you said others have done it..." I trailed off and she nodded. 

"Okay, let's get down to it. You need to be gone in an hour approximately, the sun hasn't set yet. Here are the rules..." she said and I gasped. "We are going to do it today? But..." I said and she nodded quickly. 

"Today is going to be the day." She smiled apologetically and I felt like the color had drained from my face. Alarms were blasting on my mind. Logic screamed at me. This was insane. A reckless gamble with the fabric of reality itself. 

Yet, a thrill pulsed through me, a counterpoint to the gnawing fear. Maybe, just maybe, this was my chance to escape the monotonous script of my life. A chance to be a part of something extraordinary.

"But what about after?" My voice, though serious, felt shaky. Could the consequences be worse than the already fractured state of my heart? What if I messed up so badly that I erased not just my existence, but the existence of everyone in the room? A horrifying mental image of my classmates dissolving into dust sent shivers down my spine. Maybe changing things wasn't such a hot idea after all.

Mrs. Henderson's smile faltered for a fleeting moment, replaced by a steely glint in her eye. "This isn't for the faint of heart, Sandra. It's a do or a don't."

Silence stretched, thick and heavy. My heart hammered a frantic tattoo against my ribs. This was it. The precipice between my ordinary life and the extraordinary unknown.

Taking a deep breath, I met Mrs. Henderson's gaze. "I'm in," I declared, the words heavy with a mixture of fear and determination. Maybe a hint of delusion too.

"So, you're going back to change some things. Major things. Someone's life is depending on these changes. Maybe all of us are depending on some tweaks."

"Okay, I am in. I swear." I said reassuringly, and she nodded.

"Excellent!" she chirped, her earlier manic energy returning full force. "Hold onto this phone and this bag that I don't really know what's in?" Her brow furrowed in a momentary lapse of confidence. "Just trust me, it seems to be important."

The phone seemed rational. It could be a way to communicate across time perhaps? The bag however, made me nervous, not knowing what's inside. My gaze darted towards my classmates, but they were studiously avoiding eye contact. No encouragement, no support, just a palpable sense of relief that they wouldn't be the ones hurtling into the abyss.

"Are you ready?" My teacher asked me. How could I be.. But I know, in my boring monotonous life, this was a lifetime one chance. Now, or never again. And I'm just crazy.

"I am. I am." I am not. I am not!! No okay, I am. I just needed to get over it.

"They seem... unenthusiastic about joining you," Mrs. Henderson finally noticed after what seemed an eternity, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Yeah," I muttered, a flicker of disappointment, thinking I had made a wrong choice into trusting these crazy ideas miss Henderson had introduced us to. And what if it was all a prank?

"Alright then," Mrs. Henderson continued, her voice brisk and professional once more. "Close your eyes and take a deep breath. This might feel a little... disorienting. Ready? One, two..."

Before I could answer, the room dissolved into a swirling vortex of colors and sounds. 

The frantic pounding of my heart was the only constant as I clung to the phone and the bag, the only tethers to my reality, as I was ripped from the present and flung into the unknown.

.

.

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What has happened? Am I dreaming?