Pain.
It was the first sensation that engulfed me as my soul returned to my body after what felt like an eternity in the past. The agony was indescribable, as if my very bones were being twisted and contorted in the most grotesque manner imaginable. I writhed on the floor, my limbs convulsing with every wave of pain that washed over me.
My muscles screamed in protest, and my joints felt like they were on fire.
I gasped for air, my throat raw from the screams I had stifled with my dental guard. It was a necessary precaution, one I had anticipated. I had requested an extra-strength guard from my dentist precisely for this purpose. As I clamped it between my teeth, the pain didn't subside; it merely became a muffled symphony of agony.
My neighbors were spared from my screams, but I was still trapped in a world of torment.
Minutes felt like hours as I lay on the floor, trying to endure the pain wracking my body. When the intensity finally lessened to a bearable level, I forced myself to stand. My legs trembled beneath me as I stumbled toward the bathroom, a place of sanctuary where I could confront the aftermath of my actions.
My stomach rumbled ominously, a reminder of the consequences of tampering with the past.
I hurriedly pointed the shower head toward the toilet and turned it on. Cold water cascaded over me, washing away the sweat and grime that clung to my skin. I winced as I felt something inside me give way, and a black, gooey substance flowed out, accompanied by a foul odor that made my stomach churn.
With great effort, I flushed away the grotesque mass, feeling a strange mixture of relief and revulsion. I stepped into the shower, scrubbing my skin raw as if trying to cleanse myself of the impurities I had expelled.
My reflection in the bathroom mirror held a semblance of the person I used to be, yet there was a profound transformation.
The fat, slovenly man I once was had vanished, replaced by someone sculpted and powerful. Muscles rippled beneath my skin, and my physique spoke of strength and determination. It was a testament to the changes I had wrought upon my past self.
The alterations I had made had worked, defying the laws of science and reality.
I couldn't help but wonder: if I could change my past, could I also glimpse my future and bring back knowledge that could alter my present? The idea tantalized my thoughts, sparking curiosity and excitement. I resolved to delve deeper into the intricacies of the spiderweb pathways that had allowed me to traverse time.
But for now, exhaustion weighed heavily on my eyelids.
My body, despite its newfound strength, yearned for rest. I had already completed the projects for my paying clients, leaving my schedule open for a few days of respite. I knew I needed to rest, to let my body and soul recuperate from the ordeal I had just undergone.
With a weary sigh, I left the bathroom, my mind buzzing with questions and possibilities. I collapsed onto my bed, the softness of the mattress a stark contrast to the hardness of my recent endeavors. As sleep claimed me, I dreamed of spiderwebs and endless pathways, leading me to a future I had yet to explore. The mysteries of time beckoned, and I was ready to answer their call, armed with newfound knowledge and determination.
Little did I know that my journey was far from over, and the things that lay ahead for this new future, would test my resolve and reshape my destiny in ways I could never have imagined.
[The next morning....]
The water cascaded over me, a futile attempt to wash away the lingering feeling of unease.
Despite the relentless shower, I couldn't shake off the sensation that I was still tainted, as if the black goo had seeped into the very core of my being. It wasn't just a physical discomfort but a mental one too, a reminder of the strange and supernatural events that had unfolded in my life.
As I turned off the shower, my mind raced with thoughts of the past and the unexpected turn my life had taken. My reflection in the bathroom mirror stared back at me, but the eyes that looked back held a resolve that hadn't been there before.
I had a mission, a plan to change my destiny, and I was willing to do whatever it took to achieve it.
I wrapped a towel around my waist and stepped out of the bathroom, my wet feet leaving prints on the tiles. My room had changed since the last time I remembered it. A new shelf adorned one of the walls, displaying a shiny trophy, a testament to my achievements as a boxer. It stood there, proud and gleaming, but it felt like a mockery.
This life, this path that I had taken, was not what I wanted, and it certainly wasn't what my parents had envisioned for me.
My mother's voice echoed in my mind, filled with disappointment and resentment. She had always dreamed of me becoming something more, something that didn't involve violence and bloodied fists. And my father, once the staunch supporter of my dreams, now looked at me with eyes clouded by disappointment.
I dried myself off mechanically, my thoughts consumed by the determination to change my fate. Boxing had given me a taste of success, but it wasn't the success I craved. I wanted a different path, one that would make my parents proud and fulfill their hopes for my future.
My gaze fell on the trophy, and I made a decision.
I would undo the choices that had led me here. I would steer my younger self away from the boxing gym and toward a different passion—one that involved a basketball and a hoop. Sports scholarships could pave the way for a brighter future, one where I could make my parents proud without sacrificing my own dreams.
I dressed quickly, my fingers flying over the keyboard of my laptop.
The screen illuminated my face as I delved into my work, responding to emails and messages from clients who sought my expertise. The demands were relentless, but I tackled each task with a renewed sense of purpose. The money I earned would push myself that I can make money even if I don't have a job, is it ethical?
Meh.
The hours blurred into one another as I worked tirelessly, my mind preoccupied with the task at hand. Time-traveling could wait; changing my past was the priority. The night wore on, and my room was bathed in the soft glow of my computer screen.
My fingers danced across the keyboard, and I lost myself in the rhythm of my work.
As the first light of dawn crept through my window, I completed the last of my tasks. I stretched, feeling the strain in my muscles from hours of continuous work. But I was fueled by determination, a burning desire to rewrite my story.
I shut down my computer and glanced at the calendar.
Semesters end was near hence the influx of customers wanting to pass a subject or graduate at least, but enough of that. The pivotal moment in my past was approaching. The day when my younger self would make a choice—one that would shape the course of my life.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the challenges that lay ahead.
I would begin by engraving the need to study basketball, although we lived in the semi-slum environment, basketball was the one thing that makes every youth fired up. It was a risky endeavor to go back again to my five year old self that was starting to study for the first time as a first grader, but it was the path I had chosen, the path that would lead me away from the boxing ring and toward a future where I could make my parents proud.
Time-traveling could wait.
For now, I was focused on the present, on the steps I needed to take to change my destiny. With newfound determination, I stepped into the day, visit a fast food restaurant eat and then sleep again and lull myself into that "Soul Dimension" once again.
[One hearty dinner later with dessert....]
As I closed my eyes, I felt the familiar pull, the sensation of being drawn into the depths of my own consciousness. The world around me dissolved into a blur of colors, and then I found myself standing in the ethereal realm of my soul once more.
The golden spiderweb-like strings emanated from my being, connecting me to various timelines and possibilities.
I had learned much from the ancient grimoire, the Scribble Codex, an artifact I had stumbled upon unknowingly. Its true power had been a mystery until now, teaching me the Mystic Soul Arts, granting me abilities beyond the realm of the ordinary.
With each passing moment in this soul dimension, I grew stronger, my understanding of the Soul Spells deepening.
Tonight, my purpose was clear. I needed to travel back, back to the pivotal moment in my childhood that had steered me towards a path I didn't want. The night was silent, and I embraced the calm before I jumped back into the vortex that would take me to my first-grade self.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the memory of that specific moment, the night when my grandfather gave me the weird Scribble Codex. The image of his weathered face, the glint in his eyes as he handed me the grimoire, was etched into my mind.
It was a moment that had changed my life, but tonight, I would change it again.
I chanted the incantation I had learned, feeling the surge of soul energy enveloping me. The golden strings around me glowed brighter, responding to my command. With a rush of wind, I was pulled into the vortex, hurtling through the tunnel of time and space.
Moments later, I found myself standing in a familiar place but hours after grandpa left and me keeping the Scribble Codex in a safe place.
The walls of my childhood home surrounded me, the scent once again of the old wood and nostalgia filling the air. I looked down at my small, innocent hands, realizing that I had successfully traveled back to my first-grade self.
Determined, I set out to alter my fate.
My first mission was clear: change my destiny from a boxer to a basketball player. I needed a sports scholarship, a chance to prove to my parents that I could excel in a path that didn't involve violence.
I remembered the day clearly, from the memory that overwritten my previous one.
It was the day of my sixth-grade graduation, the day when my future was decided. But I had decided to go further back, back to my first-grade self, where I could mold my interests and passions from the very beginning.
I looked around my childhood home, the familiar sights tugging at my heartstrings. My parents were in the living room, their worried expressions etched with concern. They had always wanted the best for me, but they couldn't see the dreams I harbored within me.
Ignoring the whispers of doubt in my mind, I mustered the courage to approach them. "Mom, Dad," I said, my voice determined. "I want to play basketball. I want to be a basketball player."
They exchanged glances, confusion evident in their eyes. My father, ever the practical one, hesitated. "But Tava, you've been those training stuff, isn't boxing a much better choice. And I guess you're good at it."
"I know, Dad, but my heart is in basketball. I want to go to basketball practice instead," I pleaded, my eyes meeting theirs with unwavering determination.
My mother's gaze softened, her maternal instinct sensing my sincerity. "Tava, we just want what's best for you. If basketball makes you happy…"
I nodded vigorously, feeling the weight of my decision. "It does, Mom. I promise I'll work hard. I'll make you proud."
My father sighed, realizing the strength of my conviction. "Alright, Tava. If this is truly what you want, we'll support you."
Relief washed over me, and in that moment, I knew I had changed my destiny. The course of my life had shifted, guided by my determination and the newfound power within me. I hugged my parents, gratitude filling my heart.
As the days passed, I immersed myself in basketball training.
I practiced diligently, fueled by the knowledge that this was my chance to rewrite my story. The once unfamiliar thud of a basketball against the court became my rhythm, my heartbeat echoing in every dribble and every shot.
Years flew by, and my skills grew. I became a star player, catching the attention of scouts and coaches.
My parents, once hesitant, now cheered for me from the bleachers, their eyes shining with pride. The sports scholarship I had dreamed of became a reality, opening doors to a future I had dared to imagine.
I stood on the court, the crowd roaring around me.
The final match of the season was intense, the stakes high. As the clock ticked down, I dribbled the ball, my focus unwavering. With a swift motion, I made the winning shot, the ball soaring through the hoop.
"THE GAME IS OVERRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!"
The buzzer sounded, signaling our victory.
My teammates rushed towards me, celebrating our triumph. I looked towards the stands, where my parents stood, tears of joy in their eyes. In that moment, I knew I had not only changed my fate but also theirs. I had made them proud, proving that dreams, no matter how unconventional, could come true.
As I basked in the glory of my achievement, I felt a surge of gratitude towards the Scribble Codex. The mystical grimoire had granted me the power to rewrite my story, to mold my destiny with my own hands.
With a newfound confidence, I stepped off the court, returning back to the Soul Dimension and was now ready to face the future I had carved for myself. The golden spiderweb-like strings of the soul dimension still surrounded me, a reminder of the extraordinary journey I had undertaken.
I had defied the odds, transformed my passions into reality, and embraced the power within me. The once weird grimoire had become my beacon of hope, guiding me towards a destiny I could proudly call my own.
But as I return back to my middle-aged mortal self, pain again washed my cheerful disposition was ruined and was replaced by torment and anger.
"If only pain wasn't included it would've been perfect! FUUUUU~~~~~CK!!!!"