It was a peaceful Saturday. I had already finished my homework during the weekdays. The only thing I was going to do was play games, I thought to myself. I went downstairs and realized something. It was strange. Normally, I hear laughing coming from my dad and my brother, or sometimes even my mother. But today, it was quiet. Was something going on? Was today my birthday? I didn’t think so.
Anyway, when I opened the kitchen door, I saw a note on the table:
Went on holiday for 5 days. Take care of yourself.
Love you,
Mom
So, my family went on holiday for five days without me? At first, I thought this was awesome. But how in the world was I going to cook, wash the dishes, do laundry, and handle other adult stuff? I had no idea.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. At first, I was scared to open it. But I thought I could handle it. So I did. I wish I hadn’t.
I opened the door and was speechless. IT WAS ME STANDING IN FRONT OF ME! How was that possible? Did I have a secret twin or something? She was staring at me without saying anything.
“Why are you me and staring at me at the same time?!” I wanted to say. Instead, I said, “Hello? Who are you?”
She waited for a second and said, “I’m you.”
“What? You can’t be me. I’m me, and you’re you,” I said.
“No, I came from the past,” she replied.
“The past? How far in the past?” I asked.
“Yesterday.”
I was confused. “Wait, say that again. I didn’t understand anything.”
“I’m you from yesterday. I came here to warn you,” she said.
“Warn me about what?” I asked.
She took out a list. “So, May Roberts, yesterday you borrowed a pencil from your best friend and didn’t give it back. You accidentally kicked your friend—”
“It was an accident!” I said.
“Sure it was,” she replied, looking at her list. “You didn’t share your plush toy with your brother.”
“Is that all? I’m pretty bored,” I said arrogantly.
“Yes, that’s all. Any comments?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said before she could continue. “First, I didn’t give the pencil back yet because I still needed it. Second, kicking my friend was an accident, and I apologized. So you can’t blame me. Third, do I have to share everything?”
She listened patiently. “Okay, maybe you’re right — for now. But if you do it again, I won’t be this nice. Cheerio.”
Then she left.
I think I shouldn’t do anything mean if I don’t want to see her again.
Or should I?