Falling

Dawn entered her apartment. It was sparse, little more than the size of a hotel suite. It had a tiny kitchen, a bedroom, and a small dining room. She went into the bedroom, sat down at the computer, wiped away a tear, and started to type.

Dawn’s Story:

“I should have seen that coming. I bet everyone has said that at least once. Well, sometimes, you are better off not knowing. Take me for example.

Right now, its time for me to write my last entry. I guess it serves as my last will and testament, since I will be gone in 4 hours. I am scared, but there isn’t anything I can do now. Free will is just an delusion.

I have always said so, and I have proof. Not that it matters. For example, right now I have to introduce myself. My name is Dawn Margret Avery. I am 21 years old and have a masters degree in Particle Physics. No one who has met my folks would be surprised I am where I am.

Both my parents are professors, my mom teaches Organic Chemistry, my dad Sociology. Not to brag, but they started accelerating my schooling in elementary. But nobody really guessed the truth, and I couldn’t tell them why I knew things no child should know.

The closet I came was once we were watching that Bill Murray move, “Groundhog Day” and I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t even tell them about the nightmare, the nightmare that will happen for real today.

I have always been afraid of heights, thanks to that nightmare of falling. I have been dreaming of that fall since I was a little girl, and this is the day I take the plunge. Why on earth would they put the lab on the top floor?

Not that I haven’t tried to avoid my fate, but I am helpless, just like everyone else. Even though my co-workers don’t agree with me, they would have to admit I am far from dumb. But there is always that unspoken qualifier, “smart, for a girl”.

If whoever reads this is female, they probably know what I mean. Some of the worst sexist pigs in the male gender are in the sciences. There are guys with lots of letters behind their name who can’t conceive of a woman with more than half a brain.

If a male reads this, he will just have to take my word for it, that when you are in the sciences, looks actually count against you, so being pretty is actually a handicap. I don’t mean I would win beauty contests, but I don’t look like a dog, and that’s bad enough.

Socially, the situation is reversed. Men don’t mind beauty in a girlfriend, but there is something about a smart women that intimidates them. Not that I ever helped myself there, I was always too busy searching for a cure to my dilemma. There was always some new theory, some new book to read, rather than go out on a date.

I am not surprised they wouldn’t listen to me. Its going to take a disaster for them to understand, and then its going to be too late. I wish I could shoot the person who came up with the bright idea, but no such luck. I mean, time travel?

It should be impossible, but they found a loophole. You cant move matter, but energy is a different story. So they came up with the idea of sending a person’s consciousness back.

I cannot tell you how it works. Not that I didn’t help make it, but, I am bound not to reveal it. I don’t mean I am afraid of the consequences, but I literally cannot do it.

Maybe after you read my story, you will understand. Today is the big day, the day they try it. I have dreamed of this day for so long, so many times, I can picture every part of the lab, every moment of the next couple of hours until the explosion throws me out the window, and trying to stop my fall I will grab the cord, and be caught up in the power the machine unleashes.

Now nothing should happen, the machine will be destroyed, but it will work anyway. I will be pushed back in time. I will wake up as my self as a small child. At first, I wont remember exactly what happened.

I will first think it’s the old cliché, of having your life flash before your eyes when you are about to die. Unfortunately, I will not be allowed to remain in ignorance for long, and I will realize what has happened, and then I will try and change my fate.

Then, I will find out that there is one thing about Time we only theorized about. We wondered if you could change anything. The answer is no. I am helpless, I cant do anything I didn’t do the first time around.

I am utterly trapped saying and doing things just like before. I wonder how many times I have been through this cycle? Can it ever really have been said to have a beginning, since it will not have an end, as far as I can tell? Now the person reading this may wonder how I could have typed this note the first time through, and I'm not sure how to explain it. All I can tell you is I was as surprised at what I typed as anyone reading this is, or more.

My own life is become an endless loop, and I can never be free. I have tried so hard to do or say something, anything I didn’t say before, and failing. I literally cannot learn from my mistakes, but am forced to watch myself make them again and again and again.

Sometimes, I wish I could just not grab that cord, but of course, I have to. I am a puppet to my own past, and no matter what, the dance will continue. Its almost time for me to go.

One of the worst parts of what’s about to happen is I wont even be able to cry. In fact, I will smile as I go up to the lab, even while I am screaming and crying inside. If only something, anything would change!

If I were a religious person, I would pray to God for release, even for death. But I can not even change that. But maybe, if you are, maybe you could spare a prayer for me, assuming that God isn’t bound by the law of Time like us humans? Please?”

Dawn saved the entry and printed it out, leaving it attached to the printer. She went to the door, and stopped at a mirror and checked her makeup, and then left the apartment. By the time she was gone halfway down the street, no sign of her inner conflict was visible.

No observer would have seen anything but a pretty, happy girl on her way to work. Only a telepath would have been able to hear her internal screams as she moved ever closer to her doom.

She went inside a building, and made her way up to the top floor. Coming out of the elevator, she spots Dr. Marcas, who she had always had a bit of a crush on. She had read that when your life is in danger, you often get more than a bit randy.

For example, knowing she had nothing to lose, she wanted to go over to him, and pinch him on the bottom, kiss him straight on the lips, and offer a quickie in the closet. But of course, she wouldn’t do that.

Once again, she wished she had lived a more interesting life. She wondered if he would also become trapped in the machines power, and if so, was he too in a loop like her? Then, she saw one of the senior members of the team, Professor Braum.

She recalls a conversation she had overheard the old man having with another young aide, and she had really wished she could have gone over and told him just how ironic his statement had been when he had said. “I wish I could live my life over again . . . “