Find Your Truth Almost everyone was happy as school let out that day, the sun shining brightly and not a cloud in the sky, perfect weather for afternoon fun. Bundles of grade school students made their way out of the small elementary school, innocently chatting to one another about dolls and model airplanes and video games, and such other items that most children that age were fascinated with. Following rather reluctantly at the back of the pack though, was an older girl, a fifth grader, by the name of Emily Rigby, who had long since lost interest in that sort of stuff. Being the smart girl that she was, she had often stood apart from the rest of the class, but this year it had been worse. You see, although Emily was rather intelligent for her age, she often relented in participating in the normal activities of the average fifth grade girl, spending most of her time stuck in the furthest depths of her imagination. She had tried to fit in, but she just wasn’t very good at it, and rarely held the same interests. At the same time, she held a secret, and kept it far away from the grasp of everyone in her #life. For Emily, though she was nearly out of elementary school, still had an imaginary friend. It hadn’t always been like this. Of course, this was most definitely the reason why most all of Emily’s classmates avoided her, thus her troubles in fitting in and finding an actual friend. But there was once a day, a long time ago, when little Emily was accepted among the children in her small town. That was, however, quite a few years previously, before the visitor…. One day, when Emily was but five, the sad news was brought home that her daddy had died in a car accident. For a kindergartner, it was quite striking news, and the poor girl reduced to tears in seconds. She was still crying later that night, unable to get asleep even among all her blankets and stuffed bears, shaking uncontrollably as fat, hot tears fell from her face onto her comforter. Then, a quiet voice came from one of the dark corners of the room. It was not her mother; it was someone else. It was a stranger. Little Emily was not scared however, for the voice was kind and gentle. “It’s okay, Emmy….” said the soft feminine voice, coming closer to the bed. Emily looked up at her, but could only see the basic petite shape of the person. It was too dark to be able to see any distinguishing features. “Don’t’ cry,” the mystery girl continued, “I know you’re heartbroken right now, but things will only get better, I promise.” “Who are you?” five-year-old Emily asked her, blinking back tears. She didn’t know who this person was, or how she knew her name, but she seemed nice. “Call me Alexandria,” said the girl, but before Emily could reply, she had disappeared from sight. And from that night on, Emily never cried about her dad again. From that experience, “Alexandria”, as she was called, became young Emily Rigby’s imaginary friend. She spent nearly every waking moment of her carefree childhood with her Alex, and Alex’s supposed appearance changed quite often as the years went by. She changed from having blue hair and green eyes to being golden-haired and brown-eyed, and so on. It is quite obvious that this mysterious girl had become an important figure in Emily’s #life, yet for some reason she had decided early on to not tell anyone about her. It was probably as a futile attempt as to not get bullied ruthlessly about it. Unfortunately, bullying is unavoidable in this day and age. It was for this reason that Emily strayed a ways behind the rest of the happy crowd as she left school that one sunny day, her dark blonde hair hanging limp over her shoulders. She didn’t cry, but she was pretty darn close to it. During gym, she had gotten emotionally beaten up pretty badly, various boys laughing at her when she tried to do pushups, calling her a sickly twig and different mean things like that. “I don’t even get the point of gym,” she thought to herself as she walked down the steps and down the street, starting to head towards home, “it’s just a place where people go to get bullied! Or more likes, a place where people go to bully me! Yeah, I know I’m probably too skinny, but I’m not perfect. Nor will I ever be. They don’t have to rub it in my face…. But at least you understand me, Alex. At least you care.” In the corner of her eye, Emily noticed a thin young woman, probably in her mid-twenties, walking some ways behind her. She didn’t know why, but she seemed familiar for some reason, with her long dark blonde hair and under a pair of rimed glasses, bright green eyes, much like Emily’s own. The strange thing was, if she did know the woman, then she could easily put a name to her, as the town she lived in wasn’t very big at all, maybe a few miles wide. Then, as she took a few turns heading on down the sidewalk, Emily noticed that it seemed as if this woman was following her. Creepy… So Emily, both as a freak detour, and as a treat since she had a hard day, swerved into the local ice creamery, where she first headed to the restroom to take care of duties. She knew her mother wouldn’t mind if she got a bowl of ice cream. Her mother’s only wish was that she be home by dinnertime, and it was her own money anyways. Emily salivated, imagining a bowl full to the brim of her favorite flavor, huckleberry. The best thing about this flavor was that nobody else really liked it, so it was almost certainly guaranteed to be in stock. “Oh, I wish you could taste ice cream, Alex…” she whispered silently to herself as she washed her hands. Once outside, she proceeded to the counter, salivating for a bowl of huckleberry. She didn’t even have to look at the menu; she just went right on up and got ready to order her treat. The owner of the shop, a nice fellow by the name of Mr. Bernard, smiled over at her as he worked. He always enjoyed talking to the children, and made them all feel important, as he talked to them as if they were adults. “Good afternoon, Emily,” he greeted her, as he swept the sticky mass of chocolate syrup off the floor. “Hello, Mr. Bernard,” she rang back. “Could I have a bowl of….” “Let me guess… a bowl of huckleberry ice cream with a shot of whipped cream on top?” he asked with a triumphant smirk, surprising Emily by sliding over this confection, already prepared and with a spoon on the side. Now, Emily was a regular guest at this certain ice cream shop, and she knew very well that Mr. Bernard had known exactly what she wanted, but she could of sworn he was in the back when she entered to use the restroom. How did he know she was there already?? “But…. How did you know?” she asked, not sure if she actually should take the ice cream. “Oh, a woman came in just a minute ago. She bought a bowl of huckleberry ice cream with the instructions to give it to you. You don’t have to worry about paying for any of it, she took care of everything. Unfortunately, I don’t even know who she was; I’ve never seen her in town before. I wish I could tell you….” A shadow of doubt crossed Emily’s mind as she thought over this last sentence. Could it be, perhaps…? “Did she have long dark blonde hair?” she asked nervously, feeling very much like a detective. “Yeah, now that you mention it, I think she did. Do you know her?” At this point, Emily was mentally freaking out. She had a stalker. This woman who she didn’t know was stalking her. This was…. Horrifying? Creepy? Scary? No. Those words can’t describe it enough. Nightmarish, she thought. This was absolutely nightmarish. Maybe I‘m just overreacting, she thought hopefully, but she didn’t think so. All Emily wanted in the whole wide world was to get home, and to get home without any more stalker trouble. So she ran out of the ice creamery without the ice cream, running down the sidewalk towards her home as if there was a colony of bees at her heels. She was sprinting so fast that if any obstructions reached out to trip her, she was going right down. Looking back, Emily knew that it was partly because of her reckless running that she didn’t see the car. The other reason was the fact that her mind was clouded at the time, dwelling in complete and absolute fear. Emily had dashed across the busy street, forgetting to look both ways, and her eyes lit up, for her home was only two blocks down. Then suddenly, and very unexpectedly, it was like Emily was the dummy in a wrestling match, and she was reluctantly yanked by her waist back to the safety of the curb. Protesting, she picked herself off the ground, and that was when she noticed the minivan barreling down the street, the minivan that would of hit her if someone hadn’t yanked her backwards. Emily turned around to thank that someone, when she stopped. Looking down at her was the stalker. “It’s okay, Emmy! You’re okay!” she said, looking at Emily like she actually cared. That voice, Emily thought. That voice sounds so familiar… Where have I heard that voice before? “Next time,” she continued, a slight smirk on her face, “actually look both ways before you cross. Now there’s a tip for you….” Emily ignored her attempts to be friendly, and stared her right in the eyes. She was tired of this whole thing. She didn’t care that this was a young adult she was speaking too; this had to stop! “Why are you following me?” she demanded, becoming brave. “You stalked me from school, followed me into the ice creamery, bought me ice cream, and then continued to stalk me some more! And then you suddenly decide to save my #life?? Why?” “It’s not like that!” the young woman protested. “I know this looks bad, but it’s not at all like that! Just give me a chance!” “Who are you, anyways?!” Emily finally shouted, and the woman was silent for a bit. She crossed her arms stubbornly. “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me….” she said rather matter-of-factly. “Try me!” Emily responded. She was tired of people treating her like this! All she wanted was a simple answer! But instead of a straight answer, the woman simply took Emily’s hand in her own, to which Emily couldn’t squirm out of, and asked her a question. “Who is your best friend, Emily?” To this, Emily couldn’t reply. Her best friend was undoubtedly Alexandria, the one who had comforted her that one night. But she couldn’t say that, now could she? So instead she held her tongue, and said nothing. The young woman continued to look down at her, her green eyes smiling through her glasses. Emily stared deep into those eyes, and it was then that it suddenly dawned on her why this mysterious woman who had bought her ice cream and saved her from getting run over seemed so familiar, both her voice and her appearance. It reminded her of someone she saw every single day…. “I know you don’t trust me, Emily,” said that voice, kneeling down to rest her hands gently on her shoulders, “but one day you will. Things will only get better. I promise you that.” The woman stood up slowly then, glancing at her wrist, and gave some last instructions, which this time, Emily actually payed attention to. “Okay, it’s best I’m off now,” she said, flipping her dark blonde locks behind her head and fiddling with something bulky attached to her coat sleeve, which Emily was pretty sure wasn’t there earlier. “Try to be wary of cars next time, and… stay smart for me, okay?” The young woman pressed something on that bulky object, and then just like that, with a small flash of light, she was gone. Emily blinked, trying to decipher all the rambling thoughts that zapped through her head at that particular moment. It was quite confusing, all this. Yet, amidst all those ideas and thoughts that her brain had for her to wonder about, there was one that really stood out to her. Is time travel actually possible?