a person dies and is confronted by the person they have become

I might have taken a few liberties with this idea as well...

Writing prompt #2 a person dies and is confronted by the person they have become

I always heard that your entire life flashes before you right before you die.  Imagine my surprise when I found that the life that “could have been” flashed before me after I passed away.

I “crossed over” at 24. I had been hit by a car when I was on a sidewalk in Venice Beach. The driver lost control of the vehicle because he had a seizure and killed 4 of us.  It was a tragic accident.

It was like a scene out of “A Christmas Carol”, where Ebenezer Scrooge was viewing his “Christmas yet to come” alternate life. I was like a ghost witnessing what my future could have been, but without a host to show me around. Not that I needed one. I recognized myself right away.

At first I was back at the scene of my death. But instead of being run down, a man had grabbed me and pulled me to safety. Unfortunately the other three were struck, as the tragedy could not have been avoided.

I remember him pulling me out of the way in the nick of time.  We locked eyes as what had happened started to set in my mind. I was almost killed!

Soon after, the scenario started to morph around me, taking me to another snapshot of my life.  My savior and I were rock climbing in a remote part of the world. No one else was around us. When we got to the top, he got down on one knee.

The scenario transformed again. The man who had saved me was at the end of the aisle. My father was walking me towards him with a quartet playing a beautiful song. I was grinning ear to ear, looking at all the faces of my family and friends, smiling, taking pictures, and videoing our moment. I felt such joy and happiness.

Another scene: I’m in a boardroom, commanding a meeting. I could tell I was important the way everyone was tentatively listening to me and nodding in agreement.

Scene after scene came and went, but the one that lingered was one of me lying on a bed, my head wrapped in a scarf. My hair was all gone; my body was weak from chemo that treated my breast cancer. I was surrounded by my husband and three adults that appeared to be our children.  They were smiling through tears, talking about the good times we had. The battle was officially over. I refused additional treatment and was ready. My family was sad to see me go, but relieved that I would suffer no more.

At this point tears were streaming down my face. I was so joyful. Dr. Seuss’s quote swam in my mind, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” My “could have been” life was so full and rich with love and success. Even though it would never happen, seeing the possibility elated me.

The scenario morphed again; this time I was young again, maybe 36 or 37. I had just gotten my bearings. I was sitting in a crowd in a large theater  I was surrounded by hundreds of beautiful people, all dressed to the nines: men in tuxedos, women in vibrant ball gowns. My feet were throbbing in 4” heels that were a burgundy that matched my gown.  My husband was next to me when I heard, “And the Oscar for best actress goes to… for her portrayal of…” I saw myself get up and go on stage to accept the award.

I was so confused until I realized most of those previous scenes I had witnessed; they were from me becoming a successful actress. The only truth was that I was indeed married to the man who had saved me. He was an up-and-coming actor when we first met and together we had built our careers in various roles. We were like a real life Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, filming several movies together. The marriage was real, though the proposal was a scene in one of our movies. The last two scenes were also different roles in movies I had starred in.

My husband and I got home from the awards ceremony and after parties. It was nearly dawn and he had helped me get out of my dress. After the dress was off, he embraced me and gave me a Hollywood kiss, "I'm SO proud of you!"

We were very happy and blessed with the success we had attained.

I was in the shadow, watching myself remove my makeup and brush out my hair. Unexpectedly, my alternate self acknowledged me for the first time. She stopped what she was doing, looked directly into my eyes, and said,”this is what life could have been…”

I nodded and smiled to myself as I headed towards the light.

you pick up the phone to call a friend and realize that you are on the line with yourself 5 years ago... Part 2

I say "Part 2" but this is not a continuation of the last story. It's what a conversation with myself from 5 years ago would really be like. 

Astoria, OR

“You remember Dexter?” I asked my younger self.

“Yeah! The Canadian that almost got us killed?” I exaggerated.

“Yup, the one who always said that' life was about the journey'.” Elder me confirmed.

“What about him?”

“Well, he’s right. You will probably always be re-evaluating what you want to do with your life, but while you are doing so, don’t forget to enjoy yourself.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Do you REALLY want a preview, or do you want it to be a surprise?”

Laguna Beach, CA

“Preview please!” younger me begged.

“Gah, FINE!” I replied, exasperated. These youngin’s,  so damn impatient; and here I thought I was different and more mature at that age. I guess not. Hmph.

“In these 5 years, you will meet over 100 people. You will live in unexpected places and will travel to over 20 new cities across 7 countries and 3 continents. You will go through some good times and some bad. “

“While that’s nice to hear, it’s still somewhat vague, “  younger me observed.

“I know, so get off the phone and START LIVING!” And with that I hung up.

you pick up the phone to call a friend and realize that you are on the line with yourself 5 years ago...

As Reddit's Writing Prompt blew up because of this amazing story, I decided I would take advantage of this site and use some of these prompts to help me when I have "creative ideas block". 

Writing Prompt #1:

You pick up the phone to call a friend and realize that you are on the line with yourself 5 years ago. Write about the conversation that ensues.

I took some liberties with this one but I hope you enjoy it anyway. 

It was a lazy Saturday morning. The hubby had taken our daughter on her play date at his sister’s so I could sleep in.  I looked at the clock and it was half past 9am. My cousin should be awake. I missed her and wanted to catch up.

I reached for my cell phone and dialed her land line. She had been resistant to technology, insisting that a regular phone was better because it never lost a call and she didn't have to always be “available”.

“Hello?” an odd, but familiar voice answered.

“Hi! Jenn?!”

“Oh sorry, she’s out of town for the weekend, can I take a message?” said the girl.

“Uh, yeah, can you tell her this is Christi?”

“Sure. Does she have your number?”

“Yeah, um, who is this?” I asked the girl.

“I’m Christi, her cousin.”

“Wait, what!? I’m her cousin Christi.” I replied, bewildered.

I knew I was the only one cousin named Christi, was this a joke?!

After several more rounds of questioning, we realized, we were indeed, the same person, but she was 5 years younger.

She is (was) the 22 year old Christina rooming with our cousin Jenn, still figuring herself out. At the time, she didn't have a cell phone either. Little did she know, in a few months, she/I would meet Jake and in a year she/I would be married. She had no idea what lie ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, things are finally starting to get better since “limbo” ended.

That’s how we refer to it now, my affair. It was before we had our daughter, about a year after we got married.

It all started from a simple and innocent question:

Which class should I take: photography or art?

On the one hand, I already had a decent camera that my brother could let me use. On the other, I have always wanted to get some formal training in painting. I dabbled with pencil sketches and pastels, but I really wanted to learn how to paint.

At my new husband’s encouragement, I took the art class.

The community college I attended was very well known for its visual arts and literature programs. Most of the classes required collaboration with another medium; in this particular case it was pairing up creative writers with artists or photographers.

Our final project was to create a book. In the first part of the semester, the writers would work on a short story, while the artists/ photographers were honing their skills. Each writer would pick how they wanted to express their short story (by paintings or through photos), then provide topics to the respective instructors so that they could get find their partner for the rest of the semester.

pianos on state street; santa barbara,ca

Mario decided that he preferred artwork to enhance his work, his topic being child prodigy composer. In class, the instructor wrote the topics on the dry erase board and we got to select which subject caught our interest. I played piano for 15 years, and liked to write my own music. It was a perfect match.

The writing class, art class, and photography class were all scheduled at the same time, so we were able to use class time to work with our partner to further develop our ideas.

Even before we knew we would be working together, Mario and I noticed one another right away. I was a bit too excited to find out that he would be my partner for this assignment.

It started out innocently enough. He told me more about his story and his ideas of how he wanted it portrayed and I gave him my background, offering to be a sounding board in addition to being his illustrator. We ended up having long discussions over the phone or IMing during work hours about the project and soon enough about life in general.

We had a whirlwind romance, spending as much time as we could together. He was like a drug; I couldn't get enough. Jake didn't suspect anything for a while because he knew this was our final project and he knew how important it was to me. He would have never found out if I didn't behave so impulsively.

It was a few days before our project was due. Mario and I were working on the final touches. We had already had the book bound and ready to go, but we wanted to add texture to my artwork and give it a 3D effect. I left my phone on silent and got carried away with the time. I ended up staying the night, then one night became two.

Mario and I were so in love. But I also loved Jake. I never knew I could be in love with two people at the same time. Jake made me feel safe and secure. Mario made me feel invincible and alive.

As an unspoken rule, I had always called to tell Jake when I’d be back, but this time I didn't  I was so caught up in where I was. With Mario and this project that had taken a life of its own. I knew I should have called him, but I didn't want to leave this bubble I shared with Mario. When I looked at my phone there were over 40 missed calls and my mailbox was full with messages from Jake.

As soon as I got home, I knew he knew. Jake was devastated. He hadn't slept for several days, his eyes puffy and red, face full of worry and pain. I had never seen him look so broken.

I felt awful. I wish I could say I felt guilt, but for some reason I didn't  I hurt because I had hurt him. In just a few short days, he had become a shadow of a man. He hadn't eaten, called in sick from work. His whole life stopped when he thought that I might be happier with someone other than him.

We began to fight as we struggled to work things out. He professed his undying love for me and badgered me to tell him what Mario had given me that he couldn't  His anger started to surface when I couldn't give him an answer. I didn't have an answer. The passion I felt for Mario was different than what I felt for Jake. I couldn't explain that to him because I didn't understand it myself.

He knew he wouldn't be able to stop me if I wanted to go and he begged me not to see Mario again. I suspected that he wanted to give me an ultimatum, but I knew that the thought of losing me forever frightened him enough for him to select his words carefully.

Truthfully, I never expected to have a real relationship with Mario. While we loved each other, I knew it was never going to be more than what it was. We shared a lot in those few months, but I couldn't envision spending the rest of my life with him.

After another big fight with Jake, I went to Mario because I needed to talk things through. I didn't call before I went to his apartment. I just needed to see him. He came to the door half dressed, and even though he told me how much he loved me, it was clear to me that he had a lot of love to give. 

I heard a girl in the background “Mario, mi amor, who is it?”

It wasn't too big of a surprise that Mario had moved on so quickly. In one of our many long talks he told me that he didn't believe there is only one love for each person. The idea of committing himself to one woman for the rest of his life was daunting to him. For all I know, he could have been with her the whole time.

I was very lucky that Jake was so in love with me that he wanted to honor our wedding vows, despite my infidelity. We went to many counseling sessions and worked hard to try to move forward and leave this in the past.

While he found it in his heart to forgive me, he didn't forget. 

I decided I wanted to take the photography class, but he took the writing class to make sure that we worked on the same project. He didn't want to take any chances that Mario would be there or that I would wander again.

Our project allowed us to expose different sides of ourselves to each other that the other hadn't seen before. We were married very soon after we met and this assignment helped us begin the rebuilding process of our relationship.

If I had taken the photography class to begin with, I would have never met Mario. Even if I might have seen him passing in the hallway, I had no reason to meet him or get involved. I was recently married after all, and very much in love. Being in the other class, I would have worked on a different project with someone else and all the heartache and trust issues could have been avoided.

Even though things are still better, I know that it doesn't matter what promises I make. I don’t know if I will ever completely regain Jake’s trust, but I know that I will keep trying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My younger self was as curious and superstitious as always. After inquiring about our family, our career and success, she bluntly asked if I/we would marry, have kids and have the white picket fence along with it. My future looked bleak at the time, and that was what she/I was concerned with most 5 years ago.

During our conversation, I had thought long and hard about what I wanted to reveal to her, but considering everything I had been through, I knew what I had to do.

I told my younger self, “Yes, you will get married and have kids. One last thing, our photography has really come a long way.”