Marr Katherine MarrMs. GardnerEnglish 10 Period 05 August 2014Past encounters PresentThis Saturday, I forced myself out of bed early to practice soccer. Tryouts are coming soon, so I needed to prepare. I was outside before the sun, and as I warmed up, my neighborhood park was surrounded by a cool fog that would soon burn off. As I started juggling, I noticed an old lady setting up cones for drills. I was surprised to see someone out this early, so I went over to say hi, curious as to what she was doing. As I drew near, I notice she looks very familiar.Good morning, I greet, smiling.Hello. Lovely morning, isnt it? the old lady continued to pump up a ball, not looking at me. It is. I respond. I am surprised someone besides me is up so early.She laughs. Im setting up practice for my granddaughters soccer team. They are only six years old.This may sound odd, but do I know you from somewhere? I ask.The lady glances up at me, and a startled look came over her face. Did I get your name? she inquires.Katie. Or Katherine, which is my full name. I respond.She looks even more disturbed at this. Has my old age finally gotten to me? she wonders aloud. Am I dreaming? I must be mad!Excuse me? I am very confused.She remembers that I am present, and stares at me again. She starts to talk slowly, choosing her words with care. This may sound crazy, even impossible to you-it does to me!-but I am Katherine too. This is completely unfeasible that we are meeting each other, but at the same time, it is happening.I am shocked, and very confused. I feel as if I have fallen down a rabbit hole, and reality has been severely altered. How do I know that you aren't playing a prank on me?She looks affronted by this. Do you need proof? she thinks for a moment. You are in high school, correct? I nod.Then you live at 173 Grevillia Drive, your room is on the second story in the front of the house, you have two cats and a dog, your pants are in the second drawer of your dresser, you only own one skirt, and all your favorite books are lined up behind the others on your bookshelf.I am stunned by the details in this, and a bit sidetracked. Youre saying that I never get another skirt?No, she laughs, But that is not the point. My question is, how are you in my present time?What are you talking about? It is 2014. How did you time travel back?No, it is 2072. she says with conviction.I want to argue more, but I suddenly am struck with curiosity. What is it like in the future? How is my family? Or should I say our family? Did I get married? Did I go to college? What do phones look like?Whoa, slow down! she exclaims, I cannot answer all of your questions about the future. I won't steal away the mysteries in life from you. If I were to tell you all of that, then I would eliminate the journey you will take to discover your identity. You must continue your journey through time blindfolded, with an open mind to anything that may arise.I am disappointed, but I realize that I probably would do the same if I met my past self. Then I realize that I will meet my past self, because here is my future self, meeting my past self. Will my future past self (if that makes any sense) then meet their own past self? Is Hades playing a cruel trick, bringing myself back to life over and over? This thought gives me a headache.At least tell me some of it. I beg.Ok, she replies, thinking. Your life is much like a soccer field. Think of it this way: You are currently in your goal box. You will travel the world, and go as far as your opponents goal, but eventually settle down in the center circle. Youll work with many people, some who are starters, with the dedication, hard work ethic, and talent. But you will also meet bench warmers, those who are lazy and lack talent. There will be jobs where you have unpleasant bosses who play favorites, similar to a few coaches you have had, and other bosses who give everyone a fair shot, equal playing time. There are going to be some totally unexpected moments, and you are going to get hit in the head with the ball many times. But if you work hard, you can survive it, and come off the pitch a winner.I ponder this a great deal. So soccer is still a big influence on my life, even at your age? I ask.Yes. She responds. Your children will play it, and as you can see, so will your granddaughter. I even still have the soccer ball charm bracelet that I got when I was your age.How can you have it? I lost it! I exclaim.She holds up her hand and points to her wrist, where the bracelet hangs. It is at the bottom of your pink bag. You threw it there when changing once.I made a mental note to check my bag when I got home.She tells me how important it was to her, and that she would never think of going anywhere without it. I ask her if I ever play again, and she responds mysteriously, telling me I must wait and seeDo you think this happens to everyone? I wonder aloud.What happens? she asks.Does everyone meet their future self at some point? I question.I honestly do not know how this works. she sighs.I have a pounding headache from processing all of this, and I really want to lay down. The information I am taking in goes against what reality dictates, and it feels as if it is being shoved into my head like an oversized pillow into a small pillowcase. I have to get home, I say. Do you think we will meet again?I cannot say for sure. she answered. I have no recollection of this ever happening to me, but I am old, and my memory is not what it used to be.Goodbye, then. I replied.Wait! she cries out, Here, take this. Perhaps it will make this more of a reality. This will remind you to let your identity change and flow, but always stay true to yourself. Dont forget who you are. She takes the soccer ball charm off her bracelet and hands it to me.Thank you, I say, I am afraid I do not have anything to give you.That is fine. she replied. Be on your way now, I wouldn't want you to be late.I head home, thinking about the meeting. The fog has not dissipated, and while strolling home, I see no one. My footsteps are muted against the pavement, muffled by the mist. I ponder what she told me about identity. I must remember my self, but at the same time, allow myself to change? All of my thoughts are whirling around my head like a bag of captured winds, straining to break out. Goosebumps appear on my arms, and I feel a shiver up my back. To shake off the strange feeling, I start to run. I feel as if I am going faster and faster, and my feet aren't touching the ground. I am a pegasus, soaring through the clouds. The fog is whipping past my face. Suddenly, I trip over a crack in the pavement. Reality crashes back upon me, and just before my face connects with the rough, grimy ground, I sit up with a start. I am in my bed. It was just a dream, I think to myself, relieved. Then, I feel something cold on my wrist, and look down. It is my charm bracelet, and on it are two soccer balls.