Emily's House: Book 1 of the Akasha Chronicles

Chapter 51: The Slippery Slopes of Time

Chapter 51: The Slippery Slopes of Time

As I walked up the wooden steps and onto the creaky porch, it felt different than when I’d first met the Goddess. The house was no longer shrouded in mist. This was utterly familiar. Same red door. Same snapdragons and sweet William in the front flowerbed.

My face lit up in a huge smile. I was home.

I opened the door and the smell of chocolate chip pancakes filled my nostrils. Coffee, bacon. Sunday morning breakfast at my house.

I practically ran to the back of the house and to the sunny kitchen. I couldn’t wait to hug my mom once more. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her hair, all earth and spice. And I wanted to hear her laugh.

But as I neared the kitchen, I stopped and listened to their voices. I heard my mom laugh as if at the funniest joke ever. My dad chuckled and flipped the page of his newspaper. My dad chuckling? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard my dad laugh.

And another familiar voice. I knew the voice as if it was my own. It is my own.

I crept down the hall and peered around the corner to get a view of the kitchen scene. My mom stood with her back to me and flipped a pancake on the griddle. My dad was hidden behind his paper with a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. He wasn’t a zombie back then, but he did bury himself in his paper every Sunday morning.

And sitting at the breakfast bar counter was another familiar face. It was a seven year old me. I was holding court, trying my best to make her laugh. I loved to see her smile. And from the looks of it, I was doing a good job of it. I had my cheeks stuffed full of pancake and was acting like a monkey while eating. I loved making her laugh.

A dilemma occurred to me. If I barged into the kitchen, they were going to wonder who I was. They may not believe me. And if they did believe me, I couldn’t very well pick up my life where I left it off. I’m fourteen now, not seven. The past already had a me in it.

What do they always say in science fiction movies? If you go back in time, you can screw up the whole time line and change the future. What if my little seven-year-old self saw me and that screwed up her head to know her future?

My heart thumped loudly in my chest. I wanted to run into my mom’s arms. She was so close. And it was really her, not a goddess or ghost of her. Her arms would be warm and soft and real, just like I remembered. I wanted just one more hug. One more look into her eyes. One more smile on her face just for me.

Maybe there is a way.

I crept back down the hall and outside. I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. I knew my dad wouldn’t take his nose out of his paper to get the door. And my mom didn’t let me answer the door when I was little. She has to come. She just has to.

I closed my eyes and waited. I tried to remember to breathe so I didn’t pass out.

I heard the door open. I opened my eyes. There she was.

“Hello. Can I help you?”

“I hope so.” My voice cracked.

“Do I know you? You look familiar.”

“You know me very well, Mom.”

She lost her easy smile and all the color drained from her face. She didn’t exactly look frightened, but she took on a serious tone.

“Emily?”

“Yes. It’s me. Seven years from now.”

She yelled back into the house, “I’ll be back in a minute. Liam, can you take your pancakes off the griddle?” She shut the door behind her and stepped out onto the porch.