A Brighter Future Awaits

The pain in Emory’s chest grows heavy as the conversation goes on in a dim lit café - it feels like a boulder is resting upon it, right on top of her heart. Her and her girlfriend, Sam, are breaking up. Sam states coldly as a matter of fact, “I just don’t think we’re going to work out.”

Trying to find some ground to stand on, Emory desperately says, “I know that our problems have been a lot to deal with, but -”

“I don’t love you, anymore, Emory...” Sam interjects. “...you need to accept that.” The boulder on her chest quickly becomes a mountain.

I don’t love you anymore. 5 small, simple words with world shattering implications. Emory becomes lost in denial. This will blow over I’m sure, we’ll be back together in a week.

Two weeks pass by since their breakup and still no texts from Sam. Besides crying herself to sleep and blowing her boogery nose into tissues while ugly crying in the bathroom, Emory is also excelling at lying in bed, wondering why the world is such a cruel mistress. She’s 30 years old and has nothing to show for it besides some half crocheted plushies, a week-old bag of lettuce in the fridge, and a broken heart.

To top it all off, she’s been unemployed for the better half of the year – her corporate employer didn't appreciate that she showed up to work one day with a thong on her head chanting impeach the cheeto! Impeach the cheeto! before making photo copies of her ass and posting them all over the office during her most recent manic episode. She is jobless, partnerless, and completely dependent on her parents for a bed to sleep in and food to eat.

She’s laying in her room continuing to host the world’s biggest pity party when suddenly she hears a thumping sound coming from the attic. Thump! She wishes her mom would be a little quieter getting things down from there. But mere seconds after this strange noise interrupts her self loathing, her mom came knocking on her door to check in. Impossible. How did mom get from the attic to my room so quickly?

Mom asks how she’s doing, Emory says she’s fine. This has been the regular exchange between them, but her mom can see a look on her daughter’s face that she’s not seen recently. It’s as if she’s seen a ghost. Emory asks, “Mom, what was that noise in the attic?”

With a concerned look, her mom responds, “What noise, love?”

She can never hear half the things Emory can. “Um, never mind. It’s probably nothing.” It’s just her and her mom at home, so Emory chalks the noise up to being from some poor animal that got stuck in the mess up there. Her mom goes back downstairs to make some lunch for them both. Thump! Thump! Emory! Was that...her name? No, there’s no way. She couldn’t handle a haunting right now. She goes back to crying into her pillow.

EMORY! The hairs on her neck stand at attention as she sits up, nearly giving herself whiplash. Now, at this point, whatever is in the attic is either a ghost, an alien, or an alien ghost. Her thoughts begin to race. What does this ghost even want from me? Don’t they know I’m having, like, a really difficult time right now? I can't meet extraterrestrial lifeforms in this emotional state. I wonder if they parked their spaceship on the roof. Can the neighbors see what’s going on? What if it’s neither an alien nor a ghost?

She was feeling terrified until she realized that if she gets beamed up by an alien or possessed by a ghost then she won’t have to deal with her despair. She decides to investigate. The walk down the hall was quiet, no thumping or yelling of her name. Around the corner is where the attic ladder was located, and it had been lowered. That’s unusual, Emory thinks out loud.

“More like convenient.”

Emory screams, which causes the stranger standing behind her to scream back, and they stand there in the hall, screaming together. Her mom is likely unaware of the commotion. Emory suddenly stops screaming out recognition of the face looking back at her.

Bewildered, she asks, “Why the hell do you look like me but older?”

“Because I’m you, but older,” future Emory says with a smile.

There’s no way this is happening, this can’t be real, present Emory says this out loud without realizing. “Oh, little me, this is definitely real.”

Her mom calls up from downstairs, “Emory! If you want lunch, I made us a little something!”

“Alright mom, I’ll be down!” They say this in unison. This is surreal. Present Emory asks her future self, “So, what, then. Where is your spaceship? Did you at least bring a ghost with you?”

“Wow, no, sorry to disappoint.”

“Well, wait. I didn’t mean to -”

“No no, I get it. You get visited by yourself from the future and that’s not impressive enough.” Future Emory shrugs her shoulders and adds rhetorically, “Why would that be impressive?”

Present Emory’s face turns a light shade of pink, and she says, “Okay, okay. Let’s take a step back. Why and how are you here? And why were you in the attic? Do they not have doors to knock on in the future?” She asks that last question with a hint of sarcasm.

Feigning laughter and before answering the questions posed to her, future Emory replies, “Ha ha, wow. I forgot how funny I was at 30 years old. You should actually become a comedian instead of whatever it is I’m doing.” Emory can barely deal with herself. I guess sarcasm doesn’t change much as you age. It might just get worse. Future Emory begins to address the other questions she was asked. “I’m here because Sam broke up with you a couple months ago.”

“It was actually just two weeks ago.” The pain in her chest was back.

The same sadness flashes across both their faces. “Oh, so it’s still pretty raw. Sometimes my time travel can be a little off. That’s why I ended up in the attic, and a little sooner than I meant to.” She tries to offer some solace, “I’m sorry, kid. It doesn’t get easier, but it does become manageable.” Present Emory responds with a half-smile, this advice didn’t feel particularly comforting.

Her future self continues to explain the reason for showing up in 2025. “I’m here to help you get your shit together. We are going to turn your ship around so our future ship can continue to sail!”

Emory is underwhelmed. “But how are you here?”

Excitedly, future Emory explains, “20 years from now, the technology for time travel is developed. Only select people are granted permissions to use this tech and for specific purposes and missions. For example, a team of my colleagues are working as we speak to reverse the rise of global fascism in favor of genuine democracy and freedom.”

Are you kidding me? She becomes a badass time traveling agent? Emory’s interest is peaked although she can’t wrap her head around what she’s hearing. She can't imagine a version of herself who can travel through space and time to make things better for the world and that she is chosen to do so.

Future Emory states without any hint of doubt or hesitation, “We work on saving the world, kid.” Emory suddenly and unexpectedly feels annoyed. For some reason, this future self is getting under her skin. She's just so...self-assured, full of self-confidence, imbued with purpose – all the things that the current version of herself is not.

As the conversation continues, Emory remembers that her mom is waiting for her downstairs. She says, “I’ll be right back after I eat lunch.” Future Emory nods in understanding. However, when Emory returns upstairs, the attic ladder is put back into the ceiling and the hall is empty. She pulls the ladder down, climbs into the attic – nothing. It’s like her future self was never there – she was just...gone.

Emory becomes filled with confusion and anger. Where could she have gone? She was supposed to help me get it together. How am I going to do this all by myself? I can’t do it. Where am I going to learn all that time traveling stuff? This isn’t fair!

She recognizes that she’s about to spiral. She takes a deep sigh. Okay. What did my therapist say when I get like this? Ugh I wish I could remember. Plan my thoughts and file? No, no, no. Put my thoughts in piles? Shit, no. Ah yes, I remember! I need to put my thoughts on trial.

She takes a deep breath and begins to challenge her thoughts so she can make her way out of the helplessness and negativity she’s falling into. The underlying thought for her is that she can’t get her life together on her own. She asks herself for the evidence. What’s the evidence to support this? Well, I don’t currently have a job. But that doesn’t mean I can’t eventually find another one. Also, I can’t keep a relationship going. But it takes two to make a relationship work. And Sam said she had fallen out of love, not that I did something wrong. Emory can feel herself starting to calm down. Okay, good. This is working.

Slowly, a different line of thinking emerges. Emory, just because this time travelling version of you is gone doesn't mean you’re helpless. She’s you. You are her. There’s 20 whole years between now and when you need to come back here. She suddenly feels a twang of hope in her chest, something she hasn’t been able to feel for months.

She doesn’t know it all yet – like how to get to where she’s going, or if ghosts and aliens are real – but she knows now that things change for her. Things will get better. Her future self gave her a little seedling of hope, and now she just needs to water it. She can’t be the same now that she knows what’s possible for her, the adventures that await her. Meeting herself has changed her life forever.