Past Echoes, Present Whispers

   

    I find myself back at Liberty Christian High, the halls echoing with ghostly remnants of adolescent chatter. I venture into the basement, bracing myself for the expected damp darkness, but it surprises me. It's not the musty cavern I'd imagined. A group of people even huddle at the far end of a corridor.

    Still, an unsettling shiver runs down my spine. The school has shifted its skin since my time. It's familiar, yet foreign - a puzzling paradox. "They've spruced the place up," I tell a friend, my voice bubbling with a tinge of nostalgia and admiration.

    My words tumble out, cloaking my deeper feelings - a mix of appreciation for the new and longing for the old, for times that will never come back, and for changes that came too fast, like a ride on a rickety rollercoaster. A bizarre blend of homecoming and alienation weaves through me. This place is both my past and an uncertain present, standing as a symbol of inevitable progress and relentless time.

I wake up

Car Trouble

I'm at Liberty Christian High School. I have a feeling that I need to chop down a telephone pole in the parking lot. I take my ax and chop away. When I get halfway there, I look up and notice the electric wires. I worry that I've made a mistake. I run inside the building and pretend that I didn't do anything. I hope that the pole falls over during the weekend when no one is here.

I walk out to my vehicle. I control the car behind me with remote control. I try to drive both automobiles at the same time to the backlot. I accidentally crash the back vehicle into a fence. It's severely damaged. I become angry and start tearing up the soft top on my Jeep. After the rage ends, I become overwhelmed with the knowledge that the damage will cost $1500. My mom picks me up. I tell her everything. She consoles me.

I wake up