Keisha PT 3
Keisha PT 3
If you could see me now, oh what you would think of me. What you must think of me. Would you still recognize me? Would you still see the same little girl inside? Or is she gone? What is left of her and what has become of me? I just don’t know sometimes. More importantly, will you still be proud of me? After all, you are older and wiser than I. You have seen things that I have yet to see. You have known things I have yet to know. You have lived the life I haven’t lived yet. You have seen it all. I just wish somehow you could see me now, and that I could see you and know you, but it is not to be. I cannot know you, but you will know me. I wish so bad I could talk to you. I want to ask you so much. How did you cope with it? What did you think? How did you feel? Will I be alright? Will daddy? I just want to know so bad. Alas, I cannot do it. It is impossible. So instead I am sending you this. This is my time machine of paper and ink. It’s not much, but is all I can manage. I know it will not help me now, but it will when you read it. Unfortunately, by the time you read this, I will no longer be me. I will be you…I hope you will understand by then. Maybe somehow you can tell me what I should do. If you can manage somehow by some miracle, I will appreciate it more than you will ever know.
Keisha slumped back in the chair reading on. At first she didn’t recognize it, but as she read on she remembered. As she remembered she thought to herself, how could she forget? She hadn’t really forgotten. She had just put it out of your mind. She never really dealt with the pain; she just pushed it away until it didn’t hurt anymore. She was so young; she didn’t really know what was going on. All she knew was that her life was quickly changing. She had just finished her fourth year of private education and was not so eagerly awaiting her first year of public…What’s worse, her daddy was always sad and mommy was gone. Life wasn’t the same. She couldn’t understand it then, but she understood completely now. For so many years she forced herself not to think about it. She had to be strong for daddy’s sake, or so she must have thought. Especially since her wasn’t doing so well, at least bad enough for a ten year old to notice. She was, in her own apt words, older and wiser. Well…older at least. Six years had passed and she was a relatively mature sixteen year old. She was smart, sensible, caring, and always seemed to be on her feet. So what had she done to deal with? She had to know. She thought and thought and just couldn’t come up with it. This was really bugging her, for reasons she just couldn’t comprehend. "Ooh, I know" Yeah, now she’s talking to herself…"I’ll write a letter to my ten year old self" Keisha paused briefly, noticing that she was talking to her self out loud. "Oh well, I might as well. Now, what could I say to her?" She thought as she conversed with herself. She thought back on her summers in the park, with friends, at the beach with her dad, at the…"Wait! Go back. The third one. At the beach with daddy" Still talking to herself, she continued to reminisce, "We had so much fun. Playing in the water, throwing frisbee, meeting new friends, and in general, running around in the sand. Those were good times. We had so much fun, daddy and I." She stopped abruptly. Come to think of it, that was one of the few times she saw him truly happy. So she had come to the conclusion that the beach was the answer. So she grabbed her pen and paper and began to concoct another paper time machine. Unfortunately, being the relatively mature sixteen years old, she realized that her younger self would never read these words. "Damn! Paper time machines only work in one direction" Michael heard her as he passed the door, "Keisha, watch your language." Keisha flinched, "Sorry daddy." Michael replied, softer this time, "It’s okay Keisha honey, just don’t do it too much." She grinned. "Okay, I won’t." Michael continued down the hall and Keisha began to write her letter to herself, forgetting that paper time machines are one way streets.
Dear Ten Year Old Keisha, (Cliché I know…)
I have read your letter and I’ve been thinking about what you‘ll do. I have though a lot and I think I’ve figured out what makes you happiest. And what makes daddy happiest. You need to go to the beach. You’ll love it. And so will he. He really loves watching you run around in the sand, kicking up clumps of it as you go, flailing your arms wildly. Come to think of it, you’ll enjoy it as much as him. You love running. As a matter of fact, you’ll join up with the track team when you turn sixteen. And it’s going to be
She was really getting into it when Michael shouted from down the hall. "Hurry up Keisha; you’re going to be late for track meet!" Uh-oh, she didn’t want to be late. She loved to run, as she had just mentioned in her time traveling telegraph, a telegraph that she needed to finish quick. She looked down at the page. Suddenly it hit her. She scratched out the body and jotted her message quickly before bolting out of the room, duffle bag at her side. She was out the door and in the car before Michael could reach her room. "That’s my girl, she’s a born runner" Michael said to himself. He ascended the short staircase and came to Keisha’s room. He reached for the handle to close the door and noticed a piece of paper lying on the floor. He picked it up to put back on her desk, but not before taking a quick peek at what she had been writing.
Dear Ten Year Old Keisha, (Cliché I know…)
I have read your letter and I’ve been thinking about what you‘ll do. I have though a lot and I think I’ve figured out what makes you happiest. And what makes daddy happiest. You need to go to the beach. You’ll love it. And so will he. He really loves watching you run around in the sand, kicking up clumps of it as you go, flailing your arms wildly. Come to think of it, you’ll enjoy it as much as him. You love running. As a matter of fact, you’ll join up with the track team when you turn sixteen. And it’s going to be
You will run!
Love,
Keisha