9998 I wake up to the sound of music, sweet chimes and loud drums. Around me there is Christmas trees and decorations. "Jouyeuz Noel!" I here people say all around me. It must be Christmas, in France. I walk in to the most merry looking house. People are wearing Santa hats, holding baguettes. Little kids are running around with there new toys. I see a calendar in the corner of the kitchen. It's December 25, in France. Children are running around laughing. The smell of pastries travels towards me, and even though I can't eat, my mouth waters. I walk outside on the street and I see a group of tourist crowding around a mime that appears to be acting out Santa. I smile at the image of the man in the red. All of a sudden the sky seems to darken. There is a small humming noise of a plane, far away. Smiles disappear all around me. Then the screams started. Children start crying, running to their mothers. I don't understand what's going on. Everyone is running down to their basements. Doors are locked and people disappear below ground. The bomb came down. The noise was deafening. Buildings caught on fire, people screaming in terror. It exploded, giving of a tower of heat and fire. Rocks and pieces of houses shot everywhere. Many people will die, they have no chance of surviving this. I see a young girl lying on the ground. I run up to her bit then I notice the her leg has been ripped off. Her face is covered in ash. She reaches her hand out to me. I hold back a scream of surprise when I notice that I can hold her hand. Her pulse is very weak but it's there. Looking at the condition she is in, she must be fighting extremely hard to stay alive. She says to me that she loves them. She says she loves them, her family. She was about to die, and she could see me. That never happened before. I could hold her hand and there was a pulse. Her family will probably never talk to her again, never know what she said before she died. I reach down and softly close her eyes. I find someone's coat that wasn't that damaged by the bomb and lay it on her, hiding the bloody mess that was once her leg. People start to check to see if it is safe to come out. They can't see me, or feel me. I stay by the girl. The girl I will never know the name too. A man that has her green eyes comes towards me. Tears are running down his face, making lines in the ash that is covering him. He kneels down next to her and holds her cold hand to his heart. "Louis" he whispers, "Ma cherie Louis," Her name must have been Louis. A young boy walks out holding hands with his mother. They see Louis's father. The mother collapse on the ground her hands on her face. Tears fall like rain. The young boy closes his eyes and sits next to Louis. The father comforts Louis's mother, but it doesn't help. I walk away, feeling like an intruder to this family. It starts to rain, softly at first then stronger, like Louis's mother's tears. It washes away the ash. The smoke begins to clear. The planes have left, but left a trail in the sky and in these people's hearts. They must of been terrorist. The injured are brought into houses to be taken care of. Blood stains the ground, broken pieces of concert are scattered everywhere.

9997 I feel a thick liquid underneath me. I open my eyes. All I can see is red. Blood red. It swirls around. Whenever I push it away, more comes. Its like a never ending cycle. I hear cries and shouts. Guns going off. I can hear the noise of people falling, dead. I’m in a war. I hate it when I’m in a war. So many deaths, so many people I could’ve saved. I am stuck watching people die. I get up, blocking my ears. I scream, I scream until my head hurts, until I need to catch my breathe. Then I scream again. I hate everything. I hate that everything dies around me. I hate that I can’t talk to anyone but myself. I hate that I can’t love anyone. I hate that I don’t even know what love feels like. I hate that I can’t care for anyone or anything. I hate that I don’t have a family. I hate that I don’t have friends. I hate that I don’t even know what is future and what is past. I hate that I don’t know the present. Someone down. I try to catch him but he falls. Everything is going in slow motion. Bodies seem to float to the ground softly but hitting hard. Everyone falls one by one. Every #life ending in a millisecond. Each taking an eternity to hit the ground. I block bullets but they go straight through me, hitting the victim. I press my hands on the wounds but blood keeps splurging out. All these men have families. They will never see there family. Just like me. Soon there is only a few left. They still don't stop. They keep falling. There is only about ten left. They keep shooting, killing everyone on the other side. When there is nobody left, they leave. I drop onto my knees, shaking. It's weird, when people are dead, I don't go through them. I spot a meadow a few yards away from the farthest body. I walk to the body and drag it into the meadow. It's full of poppies. Red everywhere, but not blood red. It's a comforting red. I drag more bodies into the flowers. I go as quickly as possible so I can get as many bodies as possible before I change. I place them next to each other, not caring which side they were on. I place hands together, uniting the human race. We are one species, not countries. We are humans not pieces of Earth. We represent humans not places. These are things people don't understand in the world. Everything little thing you do, every little thing you say might cause something bigger. It may lay there, forgotten or it might be the cause of an idea that clicks someone's mind. Like when Aristarchus developed the theory that the sun is the center of the solar system. Someone that day might of said something like 'The bowl is at the center of the table with all the plates set around it.' I don't know because I didn't go their yet.

9996 I open my eyes. It looks like I am in the medieval age. I can see a humongous castle in the distance. There is a long dusty road leading to it. I am in a small town center with a market place. I walk around looking at the jewelry and staring at the clothes. I have been wearing the same plain black t-shirt with black pants for my whole #life so a few hundred years. People walk straight few me. I still want to shout at them even if I can’t blame them. They can’t see me so its not there fault. The only time I am solid to them is when they are dead. I start walking down the path. I follow the knights on horses. They are wearing long red capes that have a golden symbol on them. I think that today I am in Camelot. It has been a while since I have been here. I start running up the path to see who is ruling. Most of the time I try to find out what important people are doing. Sometimes I end up at a school. When I do, I search around for a history lesson. Most of the time I have seen the person/place they are learning about. Its interesting if I haven’t seen them because I know what it is when I wake up in that time period. Even though I have waken up to a different time period, I still haven’t seen Columbus arrive to the new world. I have been on the ships though. The castle is coming closer. I can see knights training in the arena. I see King Arthur and Queen Guinevere chatting. They look extremely worried about something. He looked like he is in his twenties. I get closer. “...The rebels are trying to attack again,” King Arthur says. I have already been here. I walk away, knowing what will happen next. I have seen the Knights of Camelot killing all the rebels, a few months after this. I walk down where a young girl is crying next to a dead body. It looked like a young boy, about my age. I think its the young girls brother. He seemed to have been ripped to shreds by something. I want to reach out a console the little girl but I know my hand will just go straight through her. Its annoying when something is happening and I know how to stop it but I can’t do anything. Sometimes I just want to scream. Sometimes I do. When I am watching people making stupid mistakes that cause them or others to die. When someone is sick with an illness that a cure will be discovered soon after they die. When I wake up to a new place and time period everyday, I have come to learn that many things can occur in one day, for the good or bad. I sit down in a flower bed and think to myself. The flowers tickle inside me. They only time I can see through myself is when something is in me that isn’t supposed to be there, for example, flowers. One of my best experiences was when I got to go in the rocket with Armstrong. I also got to walk on the moon. Most things don’t affect me but gravity does. I felt the feeling of joy and proudness that Armstrong felt. I heard him say the very words, “One small step for a man, a huge leap for mankind.” I felt like he was talking to me. I take small steps everyday and if people could hear me, it would be a huge leap for mankind. I see people walking together, couples holding hands and friends laughing. I feel a drop in my stomach. The only person I speak to is myself. Nobody will remember me. No one will cry at my grave. When I die, if I die no one will know my name. There won’t be any evidence that I have even stepped foot on Earth. I follow a young maid in to the castle. She is speaking to someone in english. English is my prime language but I can understand some of other languages. She is climbing up the stairs to the servants quarter. They seem to be having a break. They are all laughing and drinking. Smiling cheerfully at each other. I can’t take anymore of it. I curl up in a corner and block my ears. I mark another day on my paper. Slowly I fall into a deep sleep.

Introduction Time is always ticking, forward or backward. But for me it is different. It can jump hundreds of years. I don't know what is present, only that everyday I wake up and the date is different, years apart. Time ticks for me, but always differently. I am a ghost of past and future. No one can see me, hear me or feel me. I am a ghost of no existence. That is my #life, there but not there. I can only touch the dead. Maybe I am dead, left the Earth without a mark.