My eyes squint and begin to open as the curtains of my bedroom open. I feel a pool of dampness between my legs. I must have wet myself. I’m too old ...o be wetting myself. I pulled the blankets over my head to cover my half-open eyes. I needed more sleep.“Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead.” A melodic voice calls out.“Oh, god, mom. Let me sleep for another half hour.” I said groggily.“Now, now. You know you have school in an hour. Get your tushy up,” Mom says, pulling away my blankets. Her dark turquoise. "Think Ryan!" Trying to ignore the alien voice, I realized I had nottried to inspect the locket since the change. I opened it.There I was. My old face, in a color photo. Me. A man at thirty.Brown hair. Green eyes. Sharp features. I had a goofy grin, whichseemed to be the only way I posed for photos. Mainly because my wifeinsisted I smile whether I wanted to or not.Not seeing any obvious answer, I closed the locket. The answerpresented itself as the wave of dizziness took me once. More

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