30 Day Writing Challenge Day 17: Use time travel in a story. Somehow mine ended up seeming more like a anecdote than a story, but that’s okay! It just randomly popped in my head. Hope you like it!
In Love and Christ,
Peter lay in the dirt looking up at the sky. It had more stars than he had ever seen in his short life; more than he could possibly count. He was tired of counting anyway. Rolling over on the rough ground he wiped a tear from his dirt-stained cheek and whimpered pitifully. He had only wanted to know what it would be like. He couldn’t have known what a mess this would become.
Since he was born he always watched his dad and brother, Frank, work on their project together. Frank would say, “You’re too little to build a time machine. You’ve got to be a grown up like me if you want to help.” Then he would always add kindly, “One day, Pete. Be patient.
But Peter wasn’t patient; he never had been. So one night–the night after his father and Frank used the time machine for the first time–he decided it was his turn. He had seen them disappear and come back. He had seen them whooping and hollering and giving each other high fives. “It finally works!” They said. He knew it was ready; and if it was ready, then he was too.
So under the cover of darkness after everyone had gone to bed, Peter tiptoed out of the house and into the garage. He had to use a stool to open the door, but it didn’t really matter. After he left and came back all by himself, no one would be able to say he was too little anymore. Those were his thoughts as he climbed and tumbled inside the time machine. He imagined the shocked faces his father and brother would make and stretched upwards, running his fingers down all the buttons like he would on an elevator. The time machine began to shake and he tingled with anticipation. He was finally growing up.
It didn’t take long for him to figure out all the things he didn’t know as a brand new grown-up, like where he was or how to get home. When the machine collapsed into nothing around him and he found himself all alone in the wilderness, he realized that maybe he didn’t like the idea of being big after all. There was no one in sight, not to mention no food and no shelter. Somehow he had ended up in the middle of nowhere and he didn’t like it at all– not one bit.
But he didn’t know what to do. So he just lay down and cried. Maybe his dad would come looking for him. Maybe Frank would realize what had happened before his father did– that way he wouldn’t get in trouble, at least. Or maybe they’d never figure it out and he would be stuck wherever he was forever. Would he be eaten alive? Adopted by wolves? He had no idea. Laying there on the cold hard ground he knew one thing and that alone: if he ever made it out of this alive, he was never growing up again.
Kharis Courtney ©2013