Into The Past

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GEORGE WASHINGTON
She won't stop crying! She has been hiding in my daughter's room, sobbing and flipping through pages of books from our library, mumbling something about going home. Martha, my wife, had noticed her sadness but was oblivious to what she had been saying. Who is she and where is my daughter? Why does she have the face of my daughter? I know she isn't my daughter, a father knows his daughter when he sees her.

And she is not my daughter!

Finally, I build up the courage and walk into her room, wearing an annoyed expression. I find her sitting at her desk, flipping through more pages, anger in her tone of voice.

"This is useless! How did I travel back in time, this makes no sense!" She pounds her fist on the table, the ink spilling over the parchment paper. She curses under her breath, picking it up and gently placing the feather back in the ink bottle.

She is most defiantly not Y/N Washington.

"Ahem," I clear my throat loudly, grabbing her attention. She turns around, her eyes red and her cheeks tear-stained. I know she isn't my daughter but someone with the face of my daughter... Broken like this? It still hurts... "Ready to explain who you are, where you came from, and what you were saying about 'traveling back in time'."

She groans and rolls her eyes, motioning for me to sit on my daughter's bed. I scowl, closing the door and plopping down on the bed, folding my arms and crossing my legs. I wait for her explanation as she paces around the room, looking for the right words.

"Okay so... I traveled back in time!" She quickly says, her eyes meeting mine.

I place a hand on my mouth, holding back the urge to laugh. There's no such thing as time travel! She notices this and sighs in disappointment. "R-Right..." I try to keep my composure, "Please continue..."

"I come from the future-"

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I burst out laughing impolitely, placing a hand on my side which is hurting.

She raises her voice, "I come from 2018!" My laughing quiets, tears in my eyes. I look up at her, small chuckles escaping my lips. "Want me to prove it to you?" She asks, grabbing a piece of paper.

"What will you do to prove it to me-" She hands me the paper, a long-ass problem written upon it. I gasp at the futuristic type of problem. What even is this?

"By the way, it's math."

"This looks incredibly complicated." I hand her the paper back, stunned. Women don't get their education unless their father is rich, I'm guessing in the future that doesn't apply?

"We woman have many rights in the future and everyone gets their education- Wait..."

"What?" I sigh impatiently.

"I can't tell you anything from the future!" Her face brightens in realization.

Wait...

She's from the future!

She knows if America won the Revolutionary War!

She knows if someone tells my story!

"Please, you have to tell me my future!" I practically beg a woman.

"I can't! That's the thing! If I tell you, something might go wrong with the fixed timeline."

"Fixed-who now?"

"I knew those hours I spent watching The Flash instead of studying for the SATs was worth it!" She snaps her finger, "There is a fixed timeline, basically the events in your life. If I change the past, which I am currently in, the future might change. Make sense? If I tell you what happened in the future, the fixed timeline will change and America might not even become a Nation!"

I smirk playfully, "You just told me if we win the war or not."

"Crap!" She stomps her foot angrily on the ground. "Okay, we have to make a deal! You are the only person who knows, no one else could know, understand? Not even your wife."

This is crazy.

I stand up and shake her hand, "Yes, I understand. I will treat you like my own daughter and you will treat me with the respect I deserve, we don't want to look suspicious."

"Right," She shakes my hand, nodding her head.

"But why do you look like my daughter?" I ask, my hand dripping by my side.

She shrugs, "I'm guessing it's because you are my ancestors."

"Wait... If you're from the future, you know futuristic types of weapons and battle strategies... Right?" I ask hopefully and smile nervously.

"Of course?" She chuckles softly, "Why do you ask, father?"

"Well... You see... If you know futuristic weapons..." My voice trails off, realization slapping her across the face. She shakes her head and I suck in a sharp breath, annoyed.

"Again, you must treat me like your own daughter. You wouldn't send her off to war, would you?"

"Of course not... But..."

"Now, we will carry on with our lives like this never happened, okay? In the meantime, I will be in the library trying to get back home and get your daughter back."

"But wouldn't you be the odd one out?" I ask quickly, "You're from the future, you are used to different people and... Other... Stuff?"

"Exactly, I'm from the future, I know how you act. And plus, my favorite play about Alexander Hamilton is all I need-"

"So we do make history?" I smirk proudly, a groan escaping her lips.

She flips her H/C sassily, striding out of the room, "I'll be in the library if you need me, father."

What have I gotten myself into?