Hi I haven’t written anything in a while, but I was inspired to write this little thing. It’s nothing I usually write, so I’m sorry if it’s confusing or not that good. If anyone is curious, the song ‘My I’ inspired me to write this story. It’s a really good song by Seventeen, so maybe check it out? So, the story itself can be done in two perspectives, and you have the choice to read one or the other, or both. You really only need to read one, since the other is pretty much the same, but with a few differences. It’s nothing major. Okay enough from me, pick your perspective and enjoy Spoiler: Future. In a garden shrouded in fog, there is a figure appearing and disappearing with ease. This figure seems unfamiliar, but also familiar. This figure’s actions are unpredictable. Appearing and floating, then disappearing. Appearing again, but laughing now. It’s like playing a game with a cat. The figure keeps me away, it won’t let me reach it. The figure will slow down though, until I’m within arms reach of it, only for it to keep its distance once again. The figure keeps waving its hands, is it beckoning me to follow still? I keep following, getting closer step by step. When I get too close, the garden seems to threaten me by become more dense with thorns, until I can no longer follow the path. I turn around to find another way, and I see the figure now behind me. I yell out for the figure to stretch out it’s hand to me, since I am now in front of it. I yell out that I will meet them, and they won’t have to wait for long. The figure then speaks to me from through the fog, sounding like it’s speaking nonsense. “You are my future. I am your past.” I keep trying to reach the figure, only to have thorns continue to keep me away. Again, the figure speaks to me. “You protected me. I longed for you.” All of a sudden, my vision blurs and I fall unconscious. When I wake up, I’m still in that garden. I feel an ache in my back, so I awkwardly try to reach it. When I do, I feel something feathery, almost like wings. A breeze sudden blows through, making the wings open enough for me to catch a glimpse of them. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, I don’t know what’s going on. I see the figure again through the fog, maybe it knows what’s going on. Once more, I try to get close, step by step. As I get closer, the ground now grows thorns to keep me away. I’m determined to meet this figure, I need to know what they mean and what’s going on. I bear the pain from the thorns as I press on. The thorns grow thicker, but the distance between the figure and I grow smaller. Once I’m a few feet away, the pain nearly becoming too much, I find myself an opening. I walk into this opening to find myself face to face with the figure that has alluded me thus far. The fog seems to be clearing, as I can see some of the features. Once I get a good look at the figure, I know why they are so familiar to me. It’s because it is me. Spoiler: Past. In the fog, I can barely make out a garden as the surroundings. I can sense someone else with me, watching me. The feeling I get is somewhat familiar, but it feels different, very different. I see a waving hand, but what is it waving? Is it telling me to come or go? I decide to go towards the hand, maybe it’s someone in need of help. As I follow the waving hand that soon becomes a barely visible figure, a path is finally able to be made out. I follow the path lined with roses, and thorns begin to come closer and closer to me. The thorns begin to become too close, and the figure reaches out its hand to save me. I reach, but the hand is still too far away. I want to meet this figure, but the thorns tell me to turn back before I get hurt. When I turn my back to the figure, I hear it say something. “I am your future. You are my past.” I freeze, and curiosity begins to take over my thoughts. What did this figure mean? I turn around, now facing the figure again, and it speaks once more. “I’ll protect you. I won’t leave you.” Upon hearing that, I become dizzy. The world spins, and I black out. I wake up, still shrouded by fog in the garden. I feel a coldness on my back, maybe my shirt has been ripped. I reach a hand behind me, to feel a small feathery thing on my back. They feel like small wings, but how could that be? I shake my head, it must be the figure trying to distract me from finding it. I need to find it. I need answers. After walking the gardens path for a short time, I see the figure in the distance, just barely. I waste no time running after it, only to once again have the thorns trying to keep me away. Again, the figure reaches out a hand to save me. I push myself to get just a little bit closer, just close enough to reach the hand. With a few cuts littering my body, I grasp the hand and it pulls me forward into the dense fog, where I can no longer see. I slowly gain my surroundings, the hand somehow vanishing before I could see the figure it was attached to. I walk forward slowly, the thorns no longer being an issue. The fog seems to lighten up, and I come upon an opening. The figure is standing there, waving for me. I walk out into the opening and I realize why the figure seemed similar but also different. It’s because it is me.