So there's this picture of a boy. He's between seven and thirteen years old. He has a very simple smile; that I just want to slap off. When I see this boy my first instinct is rage. Full unapologetic pure rage. To say I want to rip this kid to shreds is an understatement.
My rage builds and I want to charge at this boy but I can't. He's just a photograph, a memory of the past.
I hate him. I hate him! I HATE HIM!
I want to walk away but now he's in my head and when I close my eyes that simple smile is all I can see and I'm enraged once more. I want to destroy this child.
All I can do is cry. The pain is too great and my anger is more than justified but what does that say about me? What kind of monster am I for wanting to attack a child? Even if that child is me.
Last night there was a failed attempt of my abduction. Usually when they come I never know it until they return me. I am paralyzed, my body unable to move except for my eyes. I see them as shadow figures as they remove whatever it is they place on my head to keep me from moving. I attempt to scream but my vocal chords and mouth betray me. Only muffled screams can escape.
This is the moment I am awaken by my wife, telling me I was having a nightmare, except the nightmare was indeed, very real.
For some reason, whatever they normally do to paralyze me and keep me from remembering what happened to me did not work this time. I woke up, eyes wide open, and could see a single shadow moving down the hallway toward my bedroom.
The entity was tall and slender and had a nervousness to him. I was about to scream for my life when he quickly raised his long bony arm and pointed something at me. My body instantly froze. I was unable to make a sound. The only part of my body still working freely was my eyes.
I tried desperately to focus on the entity but all I could see was his shadowy silhouette. I managed to glance over to my wife and see she was sound asleep. Try as I might, I could not move.
The entity paced back and forth. He was making clicking sounds, the kind that dolphins make, as he spoke into some type of handheld box. I can only assume he was telling something that I was awake and that I could see his shadow. I could hear muffled transmitted clicking sounds coming from the device as he stopped pacing, facing my bedroom, and looking right at me.
He threw up his hands in defeat and faced me from the hallway, never crossing the threshold into my bedroom. He pointed his hand at me and vanished. My body was released and I fell back into deep slumber, unable to woke up from nightmare after nightmare, a parting gift from the entities.
When the first of us was stranded here he landed from a different time than the second one. The second one landed earlier than the first. He waited, hiding for eighteen months, for the arrival of the first of us. The two met, discussed the details of the mission and realized there will be others. We needed to be able to communicate with each other in some way, in case we were not able to find the current one of us before time took its course.
There can not exist more than two versions of oneself at one time. If one of those versions is your younger self then any self that appears after is up for elimination. Time will not allow a third to exist for very long.
I have studied all the post from my previous selves and have brought back copies for the other selves to find and post them. We can not save our world by going home so I have decided that the only way to save my future is to change your past.
After I am gone my complete writings will be posted for the world to see. Hopefully I have made enough changes to the timeline that my future does not come to pass. Hopefully she is safe.
I do not have much time left before I too disappear. I am the last of myself to be sent back and I am the first to arrive in your timeline. My name is Calvin and this is my story…
"Have you ever had surgery before," a nurse asked as she was inputting my information into her computer.
"Yes. Once, on my back, three years ago," I answered slowly as the morphine began to kick in, taking away the pain pulsating throughout my back.
As another nurse continued to get me ready for my surgery she stopped at my right calf.
"What about this scar," the second nurse asked. "What was this surgery for?"
"That's not from a surgery."
The first nurse stepped over to look at my leg as well. Both nurses looked at me as if I was just caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
"Sir, that's a surgical scar," the first nurse began to scold. "It looks like a botched surgery at that. We need to know all your past medical history."
"It's an alien surgery. I went to sleep with nothing wrong with my leg and woke up six hours later with that, just as it is."
The nurse looked at me as if I just lost my mind.
"It's true. That's also why you guys keep drawing so much blood from me, the aliens are using it to clone me."
"Okay then," the nurse said, going back to her computer without missing a beat. "Are you allergic to any medication?"