What Really Happened

The Pebble

I opened my eyes.

I was back in the other me's room. He was looking at me, a question on his face. I'm not sure how he did this, but the point is, he wanted to know something.

"What?" I asked.

"You looked like you wanted to ask me a question," he said. "I was just showing you what you looked like. Empathy, I guess."

I was beginning to see why people who stood (or sat) close to me too long were prone to confusion.


"Okay!" I said, snapping out of a trance. "Questions. One: What happened with that person, the..." I thought for a second. "...transportation agent? With the memory log?"

The other me thought for a second. "Sorry - I can't tell you. That would instantly disrupt the realities."

That disappointed me. But I had seen enough Star Treks to know not to disrupt time and space.

"Next question? Hopefully I'll be able to answer this one," the other me said.

"What should I call you? I've been thinking of you as 'the other me' in my head, but you need a real name. Besides 'Finn'."

The other me thought for a second.

"I know one! It'll annoy this one person I know, but it's better than nothing."

There was an awkward silence.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I forgot."


"It doesn't make much of a difference, though, since I've got to wipe your memory. Could I have the log?" the other me asked.

"Wait! One more question. Did you ever find out about what 'yellow skittle' means?"

The other me looked surprised. "I didn't know you had seen that memory. No, I still don't know. Yellow skittles seem to be popping up in odd places, though."

Weird, I thought.

"Well, we'd better get going on that memory wiping!" the other me said cheerfully. I gave him the small cube. "I'll transport you to wherever you came from, at almost the same time as you left, via the wormhole generator. The memory wipe will happen simultaneously. You ready?"

I thought about this. I would forget everything I found out in the past ten minutes (wow,thatseemedmuchlonger) and go back to being ignorant of interdimensional travel. I wouldn't know anything about memory logs or wormhole generators or EVIL or the nameless other me. Also, I had to go to the bathroom.

"I'm ready," I said.

The world started to fade, and I realized I wasn't ready. One phrase echoed again and again in my mind clearly, while the rest faded into the background.

The ripple will turn into a tsunami.

Actually, I hadn't left my bathroom bag at home. It was just in the corner of my overnight bag.

I took it, went back into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, used the bathroom, and went to bed.

It'sweird,I thought. Ifeellikesomethingunusualshouldhavehappenedtonight.

The next two days were also not unusual.

On Monday, we had gathering. Our music teacher decided to sing for some reason. She's a very good singer, but she hardly ever sang in front of our school. Everyone was caught a bit off guard, and we were all a little dazed as we headed to our homerooms to prepare for first period.

"She is a good singer..." someone was muttering. Most of us were still processing the shock of one of the strangest gatherings we had witnessed.

"It makes me... hungry," Skyler said.

"The singing?" I was confused.


"The singingmade you hungry?" I asked.

"No! I never had breakfast, and the singing went into my snack time."

"Oh. I have some skittles, if you want them."

Nick walked by. "I like skittles!" he exclaimed.

Déjàvu, I thought.

We arrived back in homeroom, and I dug the skittles out of my lunchbox and tore off the corner of the wrapping.

"Which color do you want?" I asked Skyler.

"I don't care," he said.

I tilted the bag to allow a skittle to fall into Skyler's hand. It was yellow.

This confused me vaguely for a second. Then a wave of memories hit me like the ground hits a skydiver whose parachute has failed to open.

Wormhole generator. Memory log. EVIL. The other me. The memory wipe.

The ripple will turn into a tsunami.

I just dropped the pebble. More like the skittle. But even a small candy will make a ripple. The ripple will turn into a tsunami.

I probably looked as if my parachute had failed to open. It might as well have.


I'm predicting that that was predictable.

Was it hard to follow? I read it over and it seems too quick. Probably because it takes longer to write than read. And I wright in chunks, not all at once.

Going for a bit of a theme here. Can you guess what the next chapter will be called?

I was writing Chapter Nine of Gozen Island, but I started throwing back and forth an idea that I'm not sure will work. I'll write more to Gozen Island once I make up my mind.

I almost just typed in, "Cheeeeese!" I think it's a sign that I need to go to sleep.

Yes. Bye.