By Gunnar Fairbairn
WANT Original Content
This week Gunnar let his imagination run wild and typed up the first story that came to his mind. Please share your stories as well!
The last thing I remember was being hit in the back of the head with something metallic. My head still hurts, but it seems to have only left a small mark. God its making my vision swimmy. I hope this goes away
When my vision clears I’m in a park. To my left is a statue of Athena and hills of rolling grass. I have a pair of boots on, which strikes me as odd because I don’t wear boots. The sky is a clear blue and I guess after being hit in the back of the head there are worse places to be. I could have been kidnapped or worse I could touched.
Looking East over across the grass hills I spot someone. They are sweaty and seem to have been running. Maybe she will know how I got here. Its an excuse to talk to her anyway and my head isn’t that ruined to not notice how beautiful she is.
I stumble over their brushing microscopic pieces of dirt off my shoulder and in my best British accent ask “Mam, do you know where I was between approximately 8pm last night and now?”
She looks at me with this embarrassed, but interested expression. She quickly snaps back and says “Oh no I have no idea, you have been lying by that statute since I got here an hour ago.” She pulls her hair into a ponytail and avoids my eyes.
Well no new lead here I think to myself. Maybe I should ask her another question while I still have her attention. She is quite friendly and it usually helps for me talk out these strange cases. I ask her to tell me the shape of the bruise on the back my head. After some fiddling she tells me it is definitely a square about 1 centimeter by 1 centimeter. I must have gotten hit with a flat mallet.
I thank her for the help and give her my card and she writes her number on my arm. I tell her its very important I keep in contact with her because she is so far the only person that has seen me in the past 12 hours. She seems a little excited by that fact like this is some mystery. Well it is some mystery and I intend to find out how the hell I got here.
I never asked her where the hell I was?
Well no use now. I can ask anyone that since I somehow speak the language here. I can’t be certain because I could have just gotten lucky. Do I have cellphone with gps? No my pockets are… well they have ruffled papers in them.
I briskly pull out one of the papers in my pocket, which is covered in my own handwriting. Here is what I read
Dear Future Callan Rupp,
When you read this letter you will not know where you are or even who you are. Your name is that of which this letter is addressed to. Your skills come from being an expert detective mentored by your father Nolen Rupp. To complete this case you had to risk it all so after months of planning you have caused a permanent mind wipe. I can’t precisely say what you will forget, but the less you know; the better. Your goal is to find Nick Graham, which at this present time is the 50th most rich person in the world, but #1 most dangerous to United Nations. I can’t tell you, which side you are on in this fight. All I can tell you is that you are against him. Follow the evidence, never trust your theories, and end this man.
Sincerely, Former self Callan Rupp
Standing with my mouth agape and the letter perched in my hands I take a moment to ponder. Did I really write this letter? Do I have enough evidence that person; this former self really exist? I have a job here and maybe thats all that matters.