By Shristi Shreya
Sarah's phone buzzed just as she was about to step out of her apartment. She glanced at the screen and saw a message from an unknown number. Against her better judgment, she opened it.
“Hi Sarah. I’m you, 10 years from now. Don’t go to work today.”*
She laughed, shaking her head. Another prank, she thought. She slipped the phone into her bag and locked the door behind her. As she walked down the street, her mind wandered to the strange message. What if it wasn’t a joke? The thought gnawed at her.
At the bus stop, she glanced at her phone again. The message stared back at her, unsettling in its simplicity. She looked around, half expecting someone to jump out and shout, "Gotcha!" But the street was quiet, just the usual hum of morning traffic.
The bus arrived, and she hesitated. The doors hissed open, and the driver looked at her expectantly. She took a step back. “Not today,” she mumbled, turning away.
With nowhere specific to go, she wandered through the park, her mind racing. Could it really be a message from her future self? She sat on a bench, watching the ducks in the pond, trying to shake off the feeling of unease.
An hour later, her phone buzzed again. It was a news alert. “Explosion at downtown office building. Multiple casualties.” Her heart pounded as she read the details. It was her office building.
She dropped the phone, hands trembling. It couldn’t be true. But it was. If she had taken the bus, she would have been there. She would have been among the victims.
Sarah’s breath came in short gasps. She picked up her phone and stared at the message once more. “I’m you, 10 years from now. Don’t go to work today.” How was it possible? Questions swirled in her mind, but one thing was clear: someone, somehow, had saved her.
A sense of gratitude mixed with fear washed over her. She looked around the park, half expecting to see someone watching her. But there was no one. Just the ducks, the trees, and the whisper of the wind.
She stood up, a new resolve forming within her. Whoever had sent that message had given her a second chance. She wasn’t going to waste it. With one last glance at her phone, she deleted the message. It didn’t matter how or why. What mattered was that she was alive.
As she walked away, she felt a strange sense of peace. The future was uncertain, but she knew one thing for sure: she would live each day fully, never taking anything for granted. The last message had changed everything.
By Shristi Shreya
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