Three Years Ahead: My Future Self Turned Me Ruthless

On my way to a meeting at work, I call my daughter, who is at home. Instead, I hear a voice identical to mine over the phone.

She claims that she is me three years in the future.

"Dezarae, go home to Liv right now. Your daughter is in danger."

I am stunned. I argue in disbelief and question who is behind this prank. When I step on the accelerator, she stops me sternly.

"Do not drive ahead any further. There will be a traffic accident at the intersection where Peace Street is."

In the next second, at the intersection that is less than 30 feet away from me, two cars collide.

Cold sweat starts to trickle down my back when the woman with a voice identical to mine says, "Liv will fall off a building and die in three hours. This is your only chance to save her."

"Who in the world are you, and what is this car accident about?" I asked, pulling on the handbrake with all my might.

Still shaken, I stared at the crash site not far away, my back drenched in cold sweat.

Someone with a voice identical to mine spoke through the phone. "Do not doubt me. I am you from three years in the future. That's why I know about all these."

However, this felt absurd to me. I was convinced it was a tech-savvy voice-phishing scammer who was manipulating my voice.

For all these years, my life was simple and happy. I had a daily routine. Moreover, my daughter, Olivia Sacks, was safe and well at home, and there was nothing amiss with her even after I left.

This was such an ordinary day. How could my daughter possibly die? After simmering down, I wanted to hang up the call and ring Olivia up once again.

Right at this moment, the person on the other end of the call said urgently, "I can prove to you that I am not just running my mouth. Liv is truly in danger!"

Before I could say anything, an elderly person's voice sounded through the call. "My deepest condolences, Ms. Lisbon. You're here so early to visit your daughter's grave."

I held my breath. Was she at a cemetery? Could it be that something had actually happened to Olivia?

As the footsteps faded, the other "me" on the phone spoke up once again. "That was the caretaker at the cemetery. We have become very familiar with one another after my frequent visits over the past three years."

My chest tightened at the thought of the car crash that was like a prophecy that had come to pass. Still, I held onto hope as I argued, "My husband will be home soon. With him looking after Liv, there's no way that anything could happen to her."

I heard a brief harrumph from the other end of the call. Without any hesitation, the woman on the other end of the call blurted a string of words.

"At 1:15 pm, Norman Sacks will tell you that he has to work overtime today, so he won't be heading home. You call Sarah right after that, but she will say that she's away on vacation.

"Five minutes later, your secretary calls to rush you. You will then be left with no choice but to give up on going home to check on Liv."

I listened in a daze. Intuitively, I glanced at my wristwatch. It was 1:14 pm at the moment.

Sixty seconds ticked by, and the call from Norman came in right on the dot. "Darling, I've got to work overtime today, so I won't be home for dinner."

I blurted, "Didn't we agree for you to take care of our daughter in the afternoon? What is she going to do if you're not going home?"

In a relaxed voice, Norman replied, "Liv will be fine at home for half a day. Don't worry too much about it. I have something urgent to tend to. Bye for now."

Once he said that, an engaged tone came through the phone. I stared straight at the scene of the traffic accident a short distance away as I called my best friend, Sarah Harker.

"I'm sorry, Dezzy. I'm away on a holiday, and I just got off the plane. I'll bring with me some local delicacies for my goddaughter once I'm back," Sarah said gleefully.

She even sent me a few photographs from her vacation. By the time my secretary called, I was in no mood to listen to anything else.

That bizarre phone call, spanning time and space, was still connected. The other "me" said in a scratchy voice, "Dezarae Lisbon, trust me. I've tried sending you a photograph. I hope that it can change this outcome."

My phone vibrated, and an image popped up. It was a gravestone in black-and-white. Olivia was smiling brightly in the photograph on the gravestone. My heart twisted in agony at the thought of her lying in that icy, cold grave.

I turned around and headed home immediately, hesitating no further. Even if there was the slightest chance of an accident happening, I was not going to allow it to come to pass.