I Hope They're Not Still Watching You

 I sit at my desk, heartbroken. Why couldn't he have saved her sooner? Was her life not but a fleeting presence against his soul?

    I fold the book in my hands, the final page blurred with my defiant tears, and tears still slip down my cheeks. Sighing, I turn to my laptop, hoping a memory might cheer me up. Yesterday, my photos sent me a picture of myself and Melody, standing beneath the Old Najoro's Tree, selfie-turned camera pointed at our laughing faces. 

     I miss Melody. I miss our conversations beneath the tree, before she left for KPCC. I'll be starting Jonathan Uni. next year, but I bet she's forgotten me by now. I'm easily forgettable. 

     Flipping to my inbox, a few new emails bling new. Junk, junk, social, promotions... I remember the messages Melody and I'd send each other - I remember her laughing at the memory the last time we were on the phone.

Oh, she did laugh. Then she hung up. 

     I shake my head and delete most of the new emails. I'm about to close my laptop when a new one pops up. It's from... me. Hermione Keller. It's title glares at me:

     To Future Self. 

      A memory grazes my thoughts, and I stumble through a laugh. I remember this - when I first got my email, I wrote a letter to myself and planned to have it sent nearly ten years later - I was... eleven? Yeah, eleven when I wrote it. And sure enough, seven years later, here it is. I smile and click on the email. A few words meet the greeting sentence:

     Dear Future Hermione Keller,

Hi! I know this will find you eventually - maybe you're finally old enough to read Unpredictable, and cry over the ending that I've heard everyone rave about.

     Honestly, it's a bit strange greeting my future self. Hopefully by now you've forgotten about me - this email. I wonder a lot of things - I wonder where Melody is. Currently, she's on her way here to hang out. Will we still be friends when this email finds you? I might have included her if I thought appropriate, but this feels too... intimate. Like I'm talking to my second life. 

     I wonder about a lot of things. But mostly, I hope they've stopped watching you. 

     Sincerely, 

     Hermione Keller.

     Eleven years old. 

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What would you do if you encountered something like this? Food for thought ;-)