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Fiction

My day started as usual. I woke up, took a shower, and got ready for school. And as usual, I was five minutes late for class. As I walked into class, the professor looks in my direction.

"Glad you could join us, Serena." She makes eye contact. "Well? Are you just going to stand there?"

"Apologies Professor, I'll take my seat."

"Thank you. As I was saying, if you want to write a good article in this Journalism course, you better pay attention."

She kept going with the lesson, but my mind spaced out, thinking I remember this...

But that was impossible, I couldn't possibly know the whole lesson. maybe just a part of it is familiar. That's right! Only a little part is something I know!

Nope.

The rest of the lesson was as if I'd already learned it. Weird enough though, I didn't have any notes on the lesson, even though I clearly remember writing them. Oh, well. Looks like I'll just have to re-write them. What was the lesson the day before yesterday? I thought about it, and the lesson didn't make sense. Why would we learn about the proper technique of writing an article for journalism, if we're only learning about Journalism today? Well, that was another thing that didn't make sense. There were no notes for that lesson either. I let the thought leave my mind and decided to talk to Professor Chase after class.

Class went by a lot quicker than I thought it would. While everyone was streaming out of the classroom, I walked up to the professor.

"Excuse me, Professor Chase, do you have a minute?"

"Sure, what's on your mind Serena?"

I took a deep breath. " Well, I had a question about today's lesson. It was as if I had already learned it. For some reason, it seemed like this lesson was taught yesterday. Is that normal?"

Professor Chase looked like I'd slapped her. "Well, that's certainly odd. How about the day before yesterday?"

"I think we learned about the proper technique to writing an article in Journalism. At least, that's what I think we learned about. I don't seem to have the notes for that lesson though." I looked at her. "Professor, are you alright? You look like someone smacked you between the eyes with a book."

Her voice was hardly above a whisper when she spoke. "That was tomorrow's lesson. How? I didn't even write the whole lesson plan..." She stares into my eyes for an uncomfortable thirty seconds. "I suggest you go and get a check-up in the infirmary. You might be ill."

Okaay, that's weird. She's acting as if you're crazy. But, it would makes sense as to why I know 'the future' or whatever.

"Okay, Professor. If I'm not sick, see you tomorrow!" I left the classroom quickly, because the Professor's actions were scaring me. Instead of going to the infirmary, I went to the library. To the science fiction section. I began to look for things like people telling the future, knowing the future, or something like forgetting the past and only "remembering" the future.

Nothing. Literally nothing came up. How is it possible that nothing comes up? There has to be something like that in that section, because it makes no logical sense.

Since I didn't find anything, I let the subject drop for the time being. I didn't mention already knowing the lessons in class, or how I oddly knew things that didn't happen yet, like the new drink at Starblock's Coffee. (I knew ahead of time by, like three weeks. oops.)

Mostly, my life went back to normal, except for the fact that I still didn't remember anything like who my parents were, my friends, other family, and what I liked. But, I put that subject aside. For now.

-A couple months later-

By now, I had graduated from the University of Journalism, and was currently looking for a job as a journalist. It was a futile search, because it seemed as though all the jobs were already taken. So, I was just working part-time as a barista.(Yes, at Starblock's.) Most days that I worked were easy, but busy. My hourly wage wasn't much, but it was enough to get by, live semi-comfortably.

-Two years later-

"Serena, are you ready?" an unfamiliar voice says from the shadows of my bedroom.

"Ready for what? What's going on?"

"Are you ready for the answers you've been looking for for the past three years?"

I can't say that I wasn't shocked as to how this person knew who I was, and more so, about my secret. "Who are you first of all? And second, how the hell did you get into my house?!"

"All those questions will be answered if you come with me."

The voice was definitely female, but not of anyone I knew.

"Where are we going? What should I prepare myself for?"

"All of that will be explained when we arrive."

-A long ride in a fancy car later-

"Are we finally here where I will receive the answers I've been seeking for the past three years?"

"Yes." I came to know the person who broke into my house as Akira. She was generally average looking, but her eyes were very, very electric green, as if they were fake. She was a lot more intimidating with her voice, but when she was just sitting there, you wouldn't expect her to be the kind of person to sneak into someone's house in the middle of the night.

Honestly, I should've known that this would happen today, but oddly, I only saw parts of it.

"So, who am I here to see?"

"The boss. She's been investigating you for two years."

"Is that even legal?!"

"Yep, Boss runs her own private detective agency. Hardly any people come though, because she doesn't advertise her services."

Akira led me through a building, still dark with the early morning. (More like 2 am, but whatever.) The corridors we walked through were all empty, except for an occasional potted plant.

"Here we are. Just through that door, the Boss is waiting for you."

"Finally. What should I expect? Is the 'Boss' scary, or just normal?"

Akira didn't respond, just nodded her head toward the door. I reluctantly went in.

Surprisingly, the inside was well lit, and it looked nice.

"You're here," said a voice from across the large room. "Sure, took you long enough."

"YOU!"

The "Boss" was Professor Charlotte Chase. "Surprised?"

"Um, yeah. Were you an undercover detective the whole time?"

"Yes. I was assigned to investigate you, before I took the role of your Journalism professor. That was before you got your father's gift, yes?"

"My father's gift?"

"Yes, Serena. Your father was also gifted. Your mother on the other hand, is just a private detective."

"Are you hinting something here?"

"Yep, I'm your mother, and I'm guessing you forgot? The gift of knowing the future, comes with memory loss from your past on the day the gift was activated."

"How come? What the heck?! how does that logically make sense?"

"It doesn't, but going completely off topic here, would you like to work for my agency? You would probably be the best detective around."

-Later. Much Later-

"And the Detective of the Year award goes to Serena Chase!"

~The End~

October 07, 2020 21:19

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Carmen Rose
23:32 Sep 11, 2021

Feel free to comment any opinions you might have!

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