I woke up grumpy, much the same as I do every morning. Before I ever opened my eyes, I felt queasy and dizzy. Maybe I had slept too long or not enough. I really just needed a hot cup of coffee served to me in bed, but I lived alone. Slowly I opened my eyes and turned my head towards the dresser where my alarm clock sat to check the time. It was gone, along with the dresser. I blinked my eyes a few times. Yes, my antique eight drawer oak dresser, which I had just bought at an auction for a sizeable sum, was missing. In fact, all my furniture and personal belongings were missing. It was then I figured out I wasn’t in my Iowa City apartment, but had woke up in a strange, yet familiar bedroom.

I sat up slowly, still feeling very disoriented and kind of puzzled. I squinted my eyes as I glanced around the small, dark, dusty room. There were shelves everywhere, stuffed with antique toys and magazine pictures of cars taped all over the walls. The small bed, nightstands, and small dresser by the old oak entrance door seemed just as dated as everything else. I felt like I woke up in an antique store. Suddenly, a flood of new information entered my thoughts out of nowhere, like a door opening. I remembered everything, including where I was, and why. This was my bedroom, but a bedroom from the past. This was the bedroom I occupied growing up in Ohio before I turned twelve years old. I started feeling better and was relieved. It was then I started formulating how exactly I was going to carry out my assignment; the whole reason I was here. It was January 23, 2026. The traffic was just as bad as it is everyday of my life. The radio was blasting oldies as I sped through the fast-food drive through, much the same as I do everyday for lunch, which is eaten quickly while I drive immediately back to work before the place fell apart. “She should get a damn promotion,” I said sarcastically to myself as I checked my order. “She actually remembered packets of hot sauce. I’m truly amazed!” I guess I was just in a bad mood. I know people can forget things, especially if it is not important to them, but I’m the one that usually pays for others forgetfulness. The raindrops beat on my windshield. There was a chill in the air as I rubbed my hands together because the heater in the truck chose not to work that day. The wind whistled through the rust cracks, which covered up all the creaking noises my truck loved to make. I kept passing car accidents that had just slid into the ditch. “No one knows how to drive properly on slick roads but myself”, I mumbled as I tried to eat a taco without dumping the contents onto my lap. While scanning through endless radio stations looking for a weather update, I heard an ad come on the radio that changed my life. Mullenbutzl Enterprises, a huge manufacturer of computer parts and accessories in New York City, had a new advertisement that caught my attention. It was introducing a new service, a service they stated would be the ‘ultimate entertainment’ package. It peaked my interest because I love new toys. “Do you have enough time on your hands?” the advertisement began. “Do you ever wish you could go back and time and do the things you didn’t have time to do? It’s now possible with ‘Time Go’, a prototype time machine we have developed. Call for details”. “It’s about time” I mumbled as I picked shredded cheese off my lap “but it’s probably government regulated”. It did intrigue me thought, because there was one thing in my past that I wish I could stop, and it was a big thing. It was something that haunted me for years. I was ten years old in Ohio, trying to go to sleep during a thunderstorm late in the evening. I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and went into my sister Heather’s room to see if she was in a talkative mood. I saw her crawling out the window. “What are you doing?” I asked. She looked startled, and quickly came back in through the window. “Mark asked me out, and you know I’m grounded” she replied, brushing some of the rain off her clothing. “Your going to sneak out?” I asked. “Only if you keep your mouth shut. You know I’ve had a crush on Mark for years, and he may never ask me out again” she replied as she gave me a pathetic look. “You won’t tell mom or dad, right?” I thought about it, and agreed. I loved my sister, and knew how much she cared about Mark, and also thought it was safe to go since our parents had long since went to bed. Around 11:00 pm, police arrived at the door. We barely heard them knocking because it was still raining heavily. They informed us that Heather had died in a car accident, along with Mark. The car slid on the road and hit another car head-on. Mom and dad asked the officer’s a sorts of questions before they broke down emotionally. I was numb. I could of prevented this by just telling my sister I would tattle on her if she snuck out the window. This was all my fault. I stared motionless staring at the wall while I relived the whole night over and over in my head. I had to slap my face to return to reality, which was a good thing since I will still driving my truck in a very heavy rainstorm. If only I could go back and time and tell Heather not to go. To tell Heather I’m her brother and I loved her, but if she leaves, she won’t be coming back. The radio ad started sounding better and better. After work, I headed to the bank and checked the balance on my retirement account. I had enough, I was sure, to go back in time for a few weeks and relive some happy childhood memories, and save my sister in the process. I then started to fantasize about other things I could do. There was a bully at school that took great pride in picking on anyone smaller than him, including myself, being a typical 60 pound fifth grader. Yes, I could use this trip for many reasons if I have the time.

I called Mullenbutzl Enterprises as soon as I got off work. I was excited, more excited than I had been for the last ten years in my dull and pointless life. This crabby fat old receptionist wouldn’t tell me a thing, and offered to make an appointment to see one of their Time Counselors. I made the appointment for eight the next morning. I didn’t have to be at work until nine, so it gave me plenty of time.(/p>

The ceilings to Mullenbutzl Enterprises were higher than my apartment complex. I was amazed with the Roman archecticture that caked the lobby, and the white staircase leading up to the second floor; my final destination. The stairs were marble and looked slippery as I walked up them, so I took my sweet time. I also was a little nervous on top of being excited. Anything different in my mundane life was a good thing at this point. I started fantasizing about how my live may have been different, if my sister would have been around. Her death destroyed our family. My parents more or less ignore me after her death, maybe sensing I had something to do with it.

After a few blood tests and a very quick physical involving a rubber glove, I was declaired healthy enough to survive the trip. They gave me a shot of something to relax me I guess as they shoved me into a round metal box, with mulitcolored wires shooting in every direction, then I seemed to just fall asleep. As I drifted off, they reminded me I was only going to be there 12 hours.

I took the long way to school, touring the neighborhood. Everything looked so much bigger. I loved being on my old red bike again, and was surprized I still remembered how to ride it.