Hindsight

Above the stark white building, hung the blue neon sign, beckoning me forward. Medical, it felt like a hospital as I entered, which seemed logical since Hindsight marketed themselves as a medical procedure. However, everything I'd heard made it fit more into entertainment than health.

A trip into the past to relive a fleeting moment. Most people would use the experience to spend time with people they lost, family, friends, or lovers. Others just wanted to be young again, party, relive the best parts of their lives. I, technically, fit into the first category. It had been years since I'd heard Dad's voice, or seen his face. Time couldn't make me stop missing him.

From what I understood, the procedure actually transports a person's consciousness back through time into an earlier version of themselves. The technology Hindsight had could only hold a person in that moment for about a half an hour before time forces their consciousness back into alignment. Thankfully, I only needed thirty minutes to do what I needed to.

Inside, the reception area was full of people, who I assumed were all undergoing the same procedure as me. Behind a desk in the centre of the room was a smiling face, who warmly welcomed me.

"Hello there, how can I help you today?" The young receptionist said brightly.

"Hi, I have a...appointment for five?" I answered nervously.

The receptionist gazed at the screen that stood between us. "Yes," the smile said. "Do you have identification?" I passed my Organ Card across the desk. A few moments passed in silence as my information was looked over. "Here you are," my card was given back. "If you could just take a seat, the technician should be with you shortly."

"Thanks," I mumbled while putting my card back in my pocket as I shuffled towards the large waiting area, being careful not to bump into anyone.

The densely packed room left me feeling uncomfortable. If I were to sit, there was zero chance of me being able to have my customary buffer of at least one seat on either side of me. After a moment of anxiously glancing around, I elected to sit in between two women. The one to my left was elderly, while the woman on my right was quite young, but gaunt and sickly, cancer or drugs, probably.

While I waited, my mind began to wonder. I had paid a year's wages to be able to come to Hindsight. If this woman was a drug addict I couldn't imagine how she would have been able to afford the procedure. I sat silently and wondered, perhaps she wanted to experience a time before drugs, an attempt to become sober.

It was then, in the depths of my wanderings I heard my name called by a man in a lab coat. Quickly, I raised my hand and made my way over to him, uncomfortable as many eyes shifted onto me.

"Identification." He said plainly. In response I handed him the same card I had used earlier. "Good." He said after a moment. "Follow me."

He led me down a hallway and around enough corners that I'd become completely lost. As my attention started to fade, he stopped and opened an unmarked door. It looked like a surgical suite, lights everywhere, monitors and various instruments on tables around the bed.

The man gestured toward the bed.

Obediently, I sat down. He then proceeded to give me multiple instructions on how to lay, where to put my limbs and position my head. I followed all his directions the best I could but the technician often needed to make minor adjustments.

"I'm going to put you to sleep so I can set you up for the procedure. When you wake up you will not be able to move. Don't worry it's normal. We incapacitate your body, so your brain does not get injured. Then, I will count down from ten somewhere after five you will find yourself in the time you specified, March 12, 2020. Do you understand?"