Second Chance at Then

“I’m sorry, but you didn’t get it.”

I blink, my heart already racing. “What? I…I failed?”

My boss, Betty – full name Bethany – shakes her head, her eyes narrow, and her lips purse together.

“But I worked so hard.”

She shakes her head once more. "You will need to wait until the next one is announced."

“But I worked so hard. How is this possible?” My voice rises, angered.

“Celeste, please sit down.” Betty raises her hands to the sides of her face.

I realize that I have moved out of my chair. “Sorry.” I slide back down and exhale slowly and deliberately. My eyes drift to the left, outside the window. “I don’t understand. I put in the extra hours, took an online course to improve my writing. I was even good at this subject in school. Now, I just fail,” I say miserably.

There is a moment of silence before I hear my boss speak. “Unfortunately, you will have to wait until the next promotions is posted.”

My head slowly turns to face Betty. “But that could take months. This promotion took two years to be posted.” I say in a strangled voice, tears forming around my eyes.

“Wait until a new promotion comes along. It will appear at some stage.” Betty says with a bright voice, but it does not make me smile.

I stand up and smooth out my t-shirt. “I am going to fail anyway.” I say hopelessly and leave Betty’s office, passing her certificates framed on the wall.

I really thought I would receive that promotion. It was easy enough to apply for, and I worked so hard on that article. I had to – my thoughts come to an abrupt stop as I approach my desk. While my desk is cluttered with the usual stationery and files, and even more files, the desk opposite mine is empty. Where is Allison? Was she fired?

Just then, I catch Scott in my eye view. He had just left the kitchen. “Hey, Scott.” I walk over to him. “Do you know where Allison is?” I point my thumb behind me.

His dark eyes gaze behind me and then he pulls his brows together. “Didn’t you hear? She got promoted.”

My eyes widen. “What?” I spit.

“Bethany called her in her office this morning. I don’t think you were here yet.”

“I was. I saw Allison’s desk piled with files this morning, but I had a meeting to attend this morning.” I furrow my brows, remembering. Allison was shaking, and I thought she was nervous because of her home life. All this time, she received the promotion. “Wait, then that means she submitted an article to Betty too?” I say more to myself than to Scott.

“She is a writer too.” Scott states factually.

“How did she get it?” I say quietly, more to myself.

“It could be because she refers to our boss by her full name, and not the nickname her friends use.” Scott takes a sip of his coffee and leaves me alone. I turn to my desk and, as I sit, a new pile of files fills it. “More?” I groan, staring at Sam.

He shrugs apologetically and pulls the trolley of files toward the other staff. I start opening up the files which I received two days ago. My mind drifts back to the promotion. Allison is a good writer, but she struggles to keep the story flowing. So how did she get it, and I didn’t? I’ve been stuck in the same job position for eight years, with only two promotions posted in all that time. Back in school, I thought that by this time, I would have been somewhere more successful than this job. Most of my classmates have succeeded in their careers. Some even have children. Yet here I am, still stuck sorting out files and writing out documents – a job I applied for to save up for university. As I started receiving my paychecks however, I suddenly had all these expenses I had to pay for. Like a car and my phone.

What did I do wrong? How am I stuck while everyone else seems to succeed?

I was so sure that I would get that promotion. With it, my name would be credited in the articles published on the company’s website. Other businesses would see my name and start offering me more writing jobs.

I close my eyes briefly, then slam the files onto my desk out of pure anger. However, I accidentally knock over the section of files I have completed, sending them to the floor. I curse, not regretting the word I used. I hear someone suppress a giggle, but I ignore the person. As I bend down and pick up each file, I realize that my photo frame also hit the floor. It is a photo of me and my family: my mother, father and sister. Her life is better, too. She landed a fantastic job where she travels around the world. She gets to visit new cities almost every week, while I am stuck in an office.

I examine the photo and take it out of the photo frame, since the glass is smashed. This photo was taken on 24 June 2000. We went camping at a campsite, which was located right next to the sea. I would wake up to the sound of the waves crashing into the water. There was a big rock, the size of me when I was younger. I leaned against it with my sister while my father went swimming in the rock pool. My mother would snap photos of us laughing and pointing to the sea. Those were better times.

Impulse suddenly takes over, and I grab my bag and the photo, and I leave work. I only have one hour until the day is over, and frankly, I don’t care that Scott was calling my name. I walk into the parking lot, but I decide to leave my car parked in its spot. I prefer to walk today. Besides, Larry, our security guard, will take care of my car. My house is not that far either. It’s about a 20-minute drive, so it will equate to a 40-minute walk.

As I start walking, I think back to that photo, back to simpler times. I was happy then. I know there were dark times, but it didn’t overshadow the incredible times I had. As I enter the street to where my house I located, I hear a bird singing. It takes me back to the mornings when I used to hear that bird sing. If I could go back to that time, I would in a heartbeat.

I reach my house and enter. I discover a note on the counter from my mother.

Went out for dinner. There is leftovers in the fridge.

I don’t want another night of mac and cheese. I am not hungry at all. My stomach has been churning since Betty – sorry, Bethany – told me that I am a failure. I decide to make a cup of tea after I drop my bag in my room. I scroll through social media for a few minutes while sipping on my tea, but as it gets later, I’d rather sleep. Maybe I can escape my reality and dream about the good old days.

I put on music I used to listen to years ago, change into my nightwear and climb into bed, not even bothering to shower. I pick up the photo I took from work and clutch it to my chest. My eyes lant on the ceiling. Why can’t I go back to a time where I was happier? Where life was simpler?

God, why can’t I go back? I want to go back. If I go back, I can rectify my life. Please take me back! I want to go back to the time where I can alter my present life! PLEASE!

I scrunch my face, pleading these words in my mind. I turn to my side, still holding the photo, and I heave a deep sigh. I close my eyes, and the darkness seems to whirl around. I see blurry visions of me riding a bicycle and then me horse riding and then…

***

“Wake up, Celeste!”

I grumble. “Don’t wake me. I still have an hour left to sleep.” My voice sounds light and airy. I clear my throat.

“Celeste, wake up.”

That isn’t my mother’s voice. It sounds a lot like…but it can’t be.

I move my head, and my hands are my pillow. What in the –

I gasp as I pull my head up, and I stare into the face of my grade 1 teacher. Mrs. Haltz eyes me sternly.

“Glad you could join our class. Now, as I was saying,” and Mrs. Haltz continues to teach math.

I blink owlishly to focus on the board as she writes out math I already know. I rub my eyes; my hands feel smaller. I peer down at my hands, and then to my desk, and to my school stationery! I look at my ponytail on the side, and my hair is a lot lighter. My eyes widen, feeling like they might pop out. I shakily look around the classroom. I notice all the students are from my first grade.

This has to be a dream. It is 25 years later, so how am back here? I soften my gaze and shrug. I guess I was thinking about the past, so I must be in a dream, but just in case. I pinch my arm – movies always say to check that way.

“Ow!”

“Celeste, stop disrupting the class.” Mrs. Haltz reprimands.

I apologize and then pinch my arm again, and I feel pain. I am still at my desk. This could still be a dream, so I lay my head back down and close my eyes. Next time I open my eyes, I will be –

“Is my teaching boring you?” Mrs. Haltz strict voice cuts in. I try not to move, hoping to wake up, but something slams onto my desk. It vibrates in my ear. I shoot my head up, and my eyes fly open. This is starting to feel too real.

“If you put your head down again, you will be walking to the principal’s office.” She warns.

I comply and I can feel eyes on me. I decide to go along with this weird dream and start taking notes.

The school day ends, and I see my mother waiting for me. She looks so happy to see me. She is a few feet away from me, and I can see the sparkle in her eyes.

“Hello my sweetheart.” She beams. I say a simple ‘hello’ and open the car door, but someone yells at me, making my jump. It’s my sister.

“It is my turn to sit in front.” She says irritably.

“Oh, s-sorry.” I falter and get into the back. As we drive off, the song playing used to be one of my favorite songs. I vividly remember being in the car just as this song ended. The radio presenter stated this song was number one in the world. Just then, I hear the presenter announce that this song is number one. I scrunch my fac. Is this all a dream? This is exactly what happened when I was sev – oh no.

While my mom and sister talk, I take out one of my schoolbooks. English it is. I open the book to find that there’s still homework to be done, like my math book back in class. I look at the last entry I wrote and I see the date: June 21, 2000. Three days before that camping trip photo was taken. My heart pounds as if it’s about to leap out of my chest.

“You’re quiet today, Celeste.” I hear my mother’s voice over the pounding in my ears. Should I tell her that I got my wish and traveled back 25 years? No! She will think I’m crazy.

But is this real? How am I supposed to go back to the present? Did God grant my wish and take me back to the past to rectify my life?

“Celeste, are you alright?” My mother sounds worried.

My lips form a thin line before I answer. “I’m fine.” I lie, but those are the only words I can manage.

We arrive home, and I first spot our motor gate is missing. It was installed 16 years later. The house still has a darker color before we painted it. I get out the car, and as I search in my bag, I realize that I don’t have a house key yet. My mother unlocks the door, and I race inside. I come to a halt when I see our backyard. My mother’s dog is still alive. I smile briefly before I race to my bedroom. I throw my bag down and shut the door, but my sister blocks the door from closing.

“What are you doing?” she scowls.

I leer at her and then my eyes shift to the beds. The double bunks are still in the room, next to the window, and my eyes land on the computer. A bulky monitor with Windows ’98, which my sister and I use dot share before she got her own. Back in, well, during this time, my sister and I used to play Pokémon. We would take turns playing this game. I switch on the computer and enter the password.

“Why did you do that? It is my turn to play.” My sister says and just like before, she starts playing Pokémon. The music starts playing and it makes my heart leap. I cannot help but smile. I watch my sister playing the game, but just then, my mother calls for both of us 5 minutes later.

“Are you girls ready for our trip?” My mother asks excitedly, and my sister leaps into the air.

“Celeste? You seemed very excited for this camping trip.”

“Oh, I am,” I say with a small voice.

My mother tilts her head. What has gotten into you today?”

“Nothing.” I say quickly. “Just tired. Where are we going?” I ask absentmindedly.

My mother leans back against the couch. “Now I know something is wrong with you.”

“Oh, yes. Sorry, I am just tired.” I laugh half-heartedly.

“Well, maybe you should go to bed earlier.”

I nod and I look to my left. I spot our stack of tapes. Wow! We still have those. Once my mother finishes talking to us about what we must pack for the trip, I immediately dive into the tapes. I spot the movie I used to watch. I open the cover, but there is no tape. I hurry over to the TV in my room, because I usually left the tape – Aha!

I rewind the tape and play the Pokémon movie. I move over to my bed and while the movie proceeds to where my favorite song starts playing, I close my eyes.

God, I don’t know if this is a dream or not, but thank you for letting me relive these moments. I think I am ready to go back to my boring life.

***

“Wake up. We are going to leave soon.” I open my eyes to see my mother, but she still looks younger.

I sit up and bang my head against the bed above me. The pain doesn’t’ affect me because I am still stuck in the past. But why? I close my eyes, asking God to take me back to the present because I’m mildly freaking out that I time traveled. I fall back down to sleep, scrunching my eyes, hoping to go to the present, but my mother pulls my duvet off me.

“Get up and get dressed. You love going to Aunty Lucy.” My mother says and she leaves the bedroom.

I sit up and get dressed in the clothes my mother left for me on my bed. So, this is reality then? I have to relive the past for the next 25 years, until I am back to my boring life.

***

As my mother drives along the mountain road, I look out the window. We are visiting family friends we used to visit every week. I loved this household. We always had so much fun going there.

I gaze at the mountain passing by and I think…I think I have to accept that this is my reality. I wished to go back to the past, and now I am reliving it. I guess the old saying ‘be careful what you wish’ carries a dangerous truth.

***

Everyone decides to take a stroll along the harbor, just a short walk down from the house. I drift away from the group, licking the ice-cream cone my mother bought for me and my sister. My feet carry me to the lighthouse, where I look out to the sea.

The salty breeze brushes against my face and I whisper, “God, please take me back to the present. But,” I lick my lips, tasting the sweetness of the ice-cream “if this is my reality,” I look up to the sky, “what am I supposed to do?”

I look up for a few more minutes until I drop my head in resignation. A voice suddenly resonates in my ears, clear and unwavering.

“You asked to return. You said you will rectify your life. This is where you begin.”

Startled, I spin around, scanning the area, and no one is near me. “God?” I murmur, tilting to the sky. “But how?”

“Check your pockets.”

With trembling fingers, I slip my hand in my pocket, and my hearts pounds as I pull out something familiar. It’s the photo from my work desk.