Brandon began to panic as he rose up out of his body like a balloon that a child accidentally released into the sky. It was finally happening. He was astral projecting for the first time ever. This was something that he had been trying to make happen for over a decade. He had come close several times before, but he was never able to get over the hurdle of the initial onset. Whenever he felt his body start to vibrate, something always snapped him out of it before he could successfully astral project. He knew that if he let fear overcome him in this crucial moment that he would fail again, so he quickly reassured himself,

Everything is O.K. There is nothing to be afraid of.

As soon as he thought those words, his life began passing before his eyes. Brandon’s fears washed away as he watched himself grow from a toddler to a young adult in the blink of an eye. When the reel got to the moment he was looking for, he focused all his intention on returning to that specific moment in time, and just like that, he was there.

At first there was no sound, and Brandon felt disoriented. He watched in silence as people around him moved about busily. The people looked familiar, but strangely different. This caused him to hone his focus in on everyone and everything around him. A mixture of soft yellow and white light warmly illuminated the kitchen and dining room area where he was standing, but the first thing that he noticed was the smell of cake in his nostrils. The source of the sweet subtle aroma was just below him on the kitchen island countertop that he was gently leaning against.

Brandon glanced around the room while everyone at the small gathering stood up and looked his way. His hearing suddenly sprang to life while his mother led the group in a modest rendition of their families’ special Happy Birthday song.

♪ Oh, happy birthday to you. Oh, happy birthday to you. Every day of the year, may you find Jesus near... ♪

Brandon carefully examined the faces of each family member and friend as they sang.

Samantha... Rachel... Mom... Everyone looks so young!

Immediately after that thought crossed his mind, Brandon realized where he was.

I'm back. It finally happened. I've gone back in time. My plan worked. I've gone back in time to 2013. This is incredible! It's so real! Oh, please God, don't let this be a dream! Please, for the love of God, let this be real!

Brandon shuffled in place nervously as his loved ones continued to sing. He felt his feet shift about within his comfortably worn-out tennis shoes. He felt his tight but flexible jeans hug his legs as he moved side to side. He felt his button-down shirt expand as he breathed in through his nose. He felt a small amount of pain as he bit his lip to stave off the awkwardness that he felt from having everyone sing to him, and then he realized,

This has to be real! I can feel pain! Everything is so detailed. I've never had a dream THIS vivid before. Look how animated everyone is. This can’t just be a dream. This has to be reality.

After everyone stopped singing, Brandon leaned forward and blew out the twin flames that hovered over a large number two candle and an adjacent number one. Then he smiled widely as he sat down on the high wooden bar stool that was next to him.

Wait a minute. Why did I do that? Brandon thought. I don’t want to sit down. I want to stand! I want to walk! I want to run! I want to dance! I don’t want to just sit here.

Despite his desires to the contrary, Brandon’s body continued to sit on the creaky bar stool. A few moments later, his mother passed a piece of birthday cake his way.

“It’s red velvet, your favorite. Sister Glenda made it for you since she knows that you love it so much” Brandon’s mother said.

He began eating the cake while everyone talked around him.

What am I doing? Why am I eating cake? I didn’t tell myself to do this. I didn’t send the signal from my brain to my hands to put this fork to my mouth. What’s going on here? Is my body on autopilot?

Right after Brandon finished eating his slice of cake, his girlfriend walked through the front door. His heart began to race, not because he was in love, but because he knew what was coming next.

I’ve got to stop this! I can’t let everything happen the way it did before.

This time Brandon tried to remain seated, but to his dismay, he got up, walked over to Sarah and wrapped his arms around her affectionately.

This is so WEIRD...

Brandon leaned down and kissed Sarah on the lips.

I don’t even like her anymore, and I definitely don’t want to kiss her!

Brandon’s mother stormed over to the happy couple and said,

“I need to speak to both of you. Outside. Now!”

Brandon replied with a clueless “O.K...,”

and then he and Sarah timidly followed his mother into the garage.

Brandon’s mother began lecturing him about the dangers of dating Sarah right in front of her face.

Oh, God... Here we go. C’mon mouth, obey me!

He tried with all his might to hold his tongue, but to no avail. His mouth uttered the same words that he spoke all those years ago, and in the same distraught manner. His mother was furious. Her face grew blood red as she began shouting,

“NO CHILD OF MINE IS GOING TO BE DATING A DEVIL IN WITCHCRAFT! SHE’S EVIL, BRANDON! SHE MAY HAVE YOU DECEIVED, BUT SHE CAN’T FOOL ME!”

Brandon rose to Sarah’s defense.

“Sarah is the kindest person I’ve ever met! She even made me go back into the gas station to pay the clerk one more penny after she accidentally went over the total. She’s not evil!”

His mother continued to accuse her.

“That doesn’t matter! She doesn’t believe in Jesus! The bible says that witchcraft is the same as worshipping the devil!”

On and on, the shouting match continued. Outwardly, Brandon was angry and upset. Tears were flowing down his face while he and his mother argued frantically. Inwardly, he could not have cared less about the matter. Taking control of his body was the only thing that he cared about now.

All right, c’mon Brandon. Be calm. Think. I can do this. I can compose myself. I can take control. I can change things. I don’t care about this argument anymore. I don’t care about Sarah or my relationship with her. I don’t care what mom thinks. I just want a chance to change things, so that this night doesn’t play out the way that it did before.

No matter how hard Brandon tried, he could not regain control of his mouth or his body. He continued to be a back-seat driver to his own actions.

STOP SPEAKING!

SHUT-UP!

RUN AWAY!

DO WHAT I TELL YOU TO DO, DAMN IT!

Nothing was working. All his efforts to control his body were futile. Brandon felt stuck. He didn’t understand what was happening, but he knew that sheer force alone was not going to work. He decided to simply sit back and try to relax for a moment.

Maybe if I just let things happen for a while, my spirit will meld together with my body, and then I’ll be able to control it.

Brandon sat back and waited until the argument ended. Still nothing. He decided to drive Sarah home, or at least, that was what his body decided to do.

What is this feeling? Ugh, I hate it. I feel nauseous, hyper, and unsettled. It must be adrenaline running through my body after that crazy ass argument. God, I hate this feeling. Driving feels cool, though. Maybe if I just focus on that then my spirit and my body will become one again.

That is exactly what Brandon proceeded to do. He focused on driving. He focused on the headlights that lit the path before him. He focused on the yellow and white lines on the road. He focused on the way his hands gripped the steering wheel at ten and two. He focused on every stop and turn that the route took him down. He focused on the way his foot gently pressed against the accelerator, and he focused on the way his foot applied the perfect amount of pressure to the brake when he came to a stop.

Still nothing. Brandon remained unable to control the mechanisms of his own body. He was starting to feel trapped. He even felt claustrophobic. He felt like a prisoner on death row, but this was worse because he couldn’t even speak!

Is this how it’s going to be forever? Have I made a huge mistake by coming back here? Am I going to be forced to relive all the pain and suffering that I went through all over again? This is a nightmare! I want to wake up! I can’t go through that hell again! I’d rather die!

They made it safely to Sarah’s house, but Brandon was panicking internally. He had already apologized for his mother’s irrational behavior on the way over, but he apologized again while he and Sarah stood on her front porch. He hugged her tightly and then kissed her gently on the lips.

Oh my god, why? I feel like I’m going to be sick. I hate this bitch! I don’t want to kiss her! I don’t even want to be near her! I’ve got to get a hold of myself. I’ve got to do something, anything, that will change what happened!

Brandon began trying to take control of his body again.

I can’t afford to be a passenger in my own life anymore. I must take control. I’m not going to just sit on the sidelines and watch myself lose the game again. This is why I came back here in the first place. I’m changing history no matter what it takes!

Brandon turned the stereo all the way up, and then drove away from Sarah’s house at full speed. A few miles up the road, he stopped at a run-down convenience store, the only one that was still open at this time of night. He slid his ID across the counter after he went inside and grabbed the first bottle of vodka that he saw.

“The big two-one! First time drinking?” The cashier asked.

Brandon raised his eyebrows and said “Yeah, sure,” with a “Yeah, right,” smirk on his face. After he paid, he turned and walked toward the exit. The cashier said,

“Be careful out there.”

Brandon raised the bottle of vodka in response to the kind advice of the cashier as he walked through the sliding glass doors of the convenience store without looking back. Visions of emergency room doors opening and closing in a similar fashion haunted his mind. He began to rage within his psychic confines. His spirit thrashed inside of his body as he yelled,

WAAAAAKE UPPPP!!! PLEASE, WAKE UP!!! JUST DO ONE THING DIFFERENTLY! ANYTHING! ANYTHING THAT WILL STOP THIS! PLEASE! YOU DUMB FUCK! PLEASE, WAKE UP!

His screams echoed in the hollow of his consciousness, but nothing he tried made any difference on the outside. The stream of time flowed ever onward toward the waterfall of his destruction, and it seemed like no matter how hard he paddled internally, he was doomed.

Brandon drove around for nearly an hour, drinking and driving aimlessly. His speech slurred as he sang along to his favorite emo songs on full blast. He cursed his mother in one breath and asked God to forgive him in the next. When the bottle was more than half empty, his consciousness became blurry. This made it ten times harder to connect with his body through the muck of drunken quicksand that his psyche waded through now. He swerved in and out of lanes recklessly, while he begged himself to,

Drive... Straight... Slow... down.... Please... slow... down...

Inwardly, he wept. Outwardly, he sped up. He drove the car faster and faster as the alcohol raced through his veins, twisting and turning down the dark country road.

Please... God... please! Don’t let it happen again... Please don’t make me go through that again...

The bottle of vodka hit the floor around the same time that his face hit the steering wheel. The car ran off the road, hit a culvert, and then flipped three times before it came to a complete stop. Brandon’s prayers went unanswered.

He opened his eyes slowly. Again, there was silence. He could not hear anything. He could not feel anything. He could not move anything. On top of that, a dark hazy cloud impaired his vision. He inhaled and exhaled, once, twice, three times, and the black fuzziness slowly vanished away. Three more breaths, and then the sensation from his head down to his chest slowly returned bit by bit. He tried to move his arms. It was difficult at first, but he was able to do it.

Finally! My body is listening to me again.

He looked around his environment, bewildered for a moment. As things became more clear, he recognized the familiar surroundings to be his present-day bedroom. He felt relieved, like a great weight had fallen off his shoulders. Tears streamed from his eyes as he thought to himself,

I’m back. I’m back in 2024. I may be paralyzed from the chest down, but at least I don’t have to relive the hell I suffered through after my initial injury.

Completely breaking your neck is an injury that most people die from. Those who live through it go through indescribable levels of pain and suffering. Brandon suffered even more than some because he had to be in traction while he awaited his neck fusion surgery for two weeks. He went through hell on earth after he injured his spinal cord during that accident in 2013. He was thankful that he did not have to endure that suffering again. He was also thankful that he did not have to relive the last ten to eleven years as a silent observer in that horrible sunken place that he was trapped in only moments ago.

Brandon found himself back where he started, almost thirty-two years old and paralyzed from the chest down, but something inside of him had changed. He had never been more thankful that he could move his arms and everything from the chest up. Yes, it still sucked that he could not move his fingers or his legs, but the upper part of his body was listening to him again, and he was happy about that.

The tears continued to fall as he rolled to the bathroom to clean his face. The dam that time had built around his heart and soul had finally broken. Reliving that trauma had crushed him, but in a necessary way. He needed this experience so that he could grow.

Over the next couple of weeks, Brandon spent a lot of time contemplating what happened to him. He had finally managed to go back to the past like he always wanted to, but he wasn’t able to change anything at all. The past was already written in stone. It could not be changed even if someone were to go back in time with the foreknowledge that they have now.

If that’s the way things are, Brandon thought, then I’m not wasting any more of my time looking back. I’m going to take the life that I have now, and I’m going to make the most of it. I don’t care if I am in a wheelchair or not, I’m going to live life to the fullest!

And from that moment forward, that’s exactly what Brandon did.

678-603-8467

mxr777@gmail.com

Contact Me

Follow Me on Social Media:

Download a PDF version of my resume by clicking here