Nate walked up to the post office with the letter in his hand. He was hoping that this would work. He was optimistic, but…well; he had only seen it actually done on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles once. So he wasn't one hundred percent sure it would work. He walked over to one of the booths and handed the man the letter. As he walked out of the post office, he pulled up his hood against the cold, and disappeared into the night.
Etanro Robillo flipped his four hundredth burger that day over at Burger King. He checked it off on his tally chart and started the four hundred and first. He'd been working here for five years now. And he sure wasn't proud of it. He knew that he had so much more potential than this. But this was all he got.
As he got off work that night, he trudged the four miles to his self built shack. It was cold in the winter and hot in the summer, but with the amount of pay he got, he was glad to be able to feed himself the way he did. He lay down on his cot and reached for a picture. As he looked at him and her, his chest tightened. The picture had been taken ten years ago just before his sixteenth birthday. He set it next to him on the nightstand and rolled over to the other side. On the shelf were a hundred unfinished manuscripts. It was all here. Books, movie scripts, songs, you name it. But none of them were finished. He selected one and opened it up to the first page. He read all the way through it, and grabbed his pen. He checked it for ink, and finding that it was about half full, set it to the paper. It was then that he heard a knock on his door. He got off the cot and opened the door slightly. The man at the door looked a little skeptic but also very excited.
"Would this be the residence of a Mister Nathanial Douglas?" The portly man asked. "It would," Etanro replied. "Well," the man began, "We at the post office have had this letter for ten years with instructions to deliver it to Mister Nathanial Douglas at this exact spot, in forty-five seconds." He pulled a letter out of his mailbag and placed it in Etanro's hand exactly forty-five seconds later. The mailman tipped his hat and strode back to his truck.
Etanro closed to door. Who would have written to him ten years ago? Actually ten years ago, he wouldn't have been surprised to receive a letter. But addressed to him now, here, from ten years ago? How did that work? He opened the envelope and two pieces of paper fell out. He opened the larger one and read:
Hello older self from 2019. It's me. Well you. Well I guess it's both. I was once in what I think is your position. And was feeling exactly what you're feeling right now. Now, you may be in a very different position than what I was in. If you are, then all our dreams will hopefully have been fulfilled. You will be living in a nice house with Kelsey next to you. You'll have a hundred finished novels and movie scripts and you've acted in every single one, and you're a renowned songwriter and poet. You make it into UCLA and major in music and acting. You become a band director and one of the Thunderbirds. You love your job and your house. You have enough money to get along comfortably and then some. You're not rich per say, but you have some money to do what you want. You got your pilots license when you were seventeen and your first airplane when you were eighteen. And you took Kelsey on that trip after your sophomore year. You married her the summer before college started. Everything went as planned. You might change a couple of things in your distant past but nothing that could possibly ruin this life. Because you have everything you wanted. A house, a wife whom you love, you love your jobs, you love your two young kids, your life couldn't be better. Or maybe it's somewhere in between what I just described, which would still be decently nice, and where I was living in a shack that I built, working in Burger King for the past five years and Kelsey married to Cameron off in Florida. And I wasn't even invited to the wedding. I had to find out when I talked to Will and Bri at their wedding. That one I was invited to. But I'm straying away from my reason of writing to you. You can fix it all. And all you need to do is trust yourself. Well I'm running out of ink here, and need to save the rest of it. So I hope you make the right choice.
Love…Well; maybe good luck,
Etanro folded up the letter and opened up the other sheet. It was much shorter than the other one.
You get one wish. Only one. Use it wisely. Oh. And for the sake of Pure Soul which you need to finish, "Sharm" allows you to travel through both Space and Time. That should give you the rest of the ideas to finish the book. And sorry about the change in writing, I had to switch to a sharpie. Good Luck BYE!
Etanro thought for a moment on both letters. He looked around the room to make sure no one was looking through any of the cracks, and thought one special wish. He felt a tearing in his back and his shirt ripped. Long dragon-like wings spread out from his back. His hair turned black and braided itself down his back. He stood up and slid his wings back into his back. He looked into his cracked mirror and saw that he resembled exactly Sandrano from one of his movie scripts. He frowned. If he was going to go back into the past, then he wasn't going to be able to look quite like this. Then again, if he went into the body of his past self, then he wouldn't have to worry. He thought of the exact time and place he wanted to go and spoke one word. "Sharm."
This is just the beginning. Please review so far. I should have another chapter up in the next few days.