The Erickson mansion, once a cheerful, lively place had taken the appearance of the angst and sorrow that succumbed its owner- Luke Erickson. The front lawn, neglected for so many years, had lost the vibrant green color of healthy grass. The blades turned a light shade of brown from lack of care. Untamed weeds engulfed the mansion, climbing the sides of the brick walls. On the side of one of the walls was a small rectangular window, unnoticed by most onlookers. Beyond the window resided a makeshift laboratory, lit by one lamp placed precariously at the nook of the room. Dust had accumulated on the drawn curtains as it went untouched. Without any source of natural light, the bookshelves and the desk cast heavy looming shadows that seemed to swallow up the light. The only sign that someone lived in this dark, gloomy room was a half-eaten ham and cheese Hot Pocket, already cold from standing out too long. It sat on the corner of the desk across from a man who seemed far older than his actual years. Hunched over, unshaven and wearing lenses thick enough for a blind man, Luke scribbled feverishly onto his notepad. Permanent creases had already begun to etch onto his forehead from overthinking.
This morning, Luke seemed uncharacteristically optimistic. He was running the final test on his four-year long project, but as he began he felt the first signs of uneasiness. Unwelcomed thoughts of doubt began creeping into his mind. What if it fails? He quickly discarded the notion. Of course it won’t, he thought, I have checked and rechecked every variable; if everything goes accordingly, the time machine will be running in a couple hours…but should I use it? Up until now, Luke had not thought about the possible ramifications for using such a powerful device. Luke let out an exasperated breath, the chair moaned from the pressure as he leaned back and stared at the window hidden obscured by the curtains. Though he could not see it, Luke could hear the silent and almost discreet tapping of rain as it fell from the sky. The soft rhythmic patter of the rainfall reminded him of the evening of his fifteenth birthday, a memory too painful to forget. Luke’s mind started to wander as he recollected the events that had transpired that dreadful evening.
Luke was merely getting ready to go to bed after finishing his homework when he heard loud shouts coming from outside. He walked toward his window and stared out in disbelief as a group of masked men carrying guns forced themselves into the front entrance, breaking the door off of its hinges. Luke could not move. How could this be happening? He thought to himself. Luke had seen these types of scenarios in video games and movies, but he never imagined them ever happening, much less to him. Luke’s mother rushed into the room and without saying a word went over to the fireplace. She turned the knob of the fire starter counter-clockwise, revealing a small space hidden beneath the floor boards. She then went over to Luke and helped him into the narrow spacing. Still incapacitated from his state of shock, Luke obeyed his mother only going through the motions. As the floor board moved back into place, Luke looked back into his room through a tiny peep-hole off the baseboard. His bedroom door burst open and the masked men came in, carrying with them a beaten man. It took Luke a few seconds to realize that the man’s disfigured face belonged to his father. Luke’s heart began to pound against his chest as he caught the light reflecting off of a pistol pointed at his father. The men told his mother to tell them where their son was. Her lips trembled but she refused to answer. The men shot Luke’s father without hesitation. Luke stifled a cry as his father’s limp body fell on the wooden floor. His cold, lifeless eyes stared at Luke as his blood seeped through the crevices in the floor. His mother started to cry violently, her whole body shaking with uncontrollable spasms. The men yelled at her to stop and when she didn’t, they shot her as well. The room became deafeningly quiet. The only sound heard was the soft thud of the men’s boots as they walked away.
Luke woke up startled by the booming sound of thunder outside his window. He shook his head, as if to ward off his old memories, and began working on the final touches of his time machine with renewed determination. Within an hour, Luke had the last tesla coil wrapped around the flux capacitor and the time machine was ready for the final test. Luke’s entire body seemed to tense up as he walked across the room to turn on the power. When the tension became unbearable, Luke flipped the switch. Sparks started flying as bolts of electricity began to sprout from the machine. At first, Luke looked at his time machine with dismay, fearing that his experiment had gone awry, but then he realized that the surface the bolts of electricity had touched didn’t show any signs of damage. His dismay turned into overwhelming joy. He had done it! Luke yelled out to the ceiling, mocking Einstein for believing time travel was impossible. He continued on his rant for several minutes before regaining his composure. Luke’s plans had finally come to fruition, but he found himself hesitant to use such an omnipotent device. Second thoughts started to fill his mind. Could changing my parent’s fate have a larger effect - possibly the death of another innocent human being? And if it did, could I live with myself? Luke hated having to torment himself with such questions, but he knew it was necessary. Earlier he had told himself that upon making the time machine he would use it regardless of the consequences. Luke looked back at his childish and ignorant response with distaste. Everything had changed and with it the realization of the severity his actions could cause.
After what seemed like hours of contemplation, Luke decided he wouldn’t use the time machine unless he was certain it wouldn’t result in the loss of innocent lives. Knowing full well the burden of losing loved ones, Luke couldn’t bring himself to inflict that pain onto others, but he also couldn’t give up on possibility of saving his parents. Faced with this predicament, Luke sat down in his chair and began to think of a solution. Staring at an old picture frame of his parents, Luke remained motionless in his chair for hours until the answer dawned on him. The simplicity of it made Luke chuckle light-heartedly, something he had rarely done over the past four years. Luke went over to his closet, picked out a black outfit, a pair of black boots, and an old party mask he used for Halloween as a child. He then went over to the drawer on the side of his desk and took out a .44 Magnum, its six chambers already loaded. With everything in hand, Luke set the date on the time machine to the evening of his fifteenth birthday, ten minutes before the men who murdered his parents showed up. Luke flipped on the power switch, took one last glance at his window, and went inside the time machine.
A bright flash of light blinded Luke momentarily, but when he opened his eyes his room was gone. Standing in the front lawn, Luke wondered if the device had teleported him instead of taking him back in time. He glanced at the ground and noticed the grass was trimmed and bright green without any trace of weeds. Luke let out a sigh of relief. He looked back to see if the time machine had followed him, but there weren’t any traces of it. After realizing this, Luke only shrugged and started walking towards the bushes along the crosswalk. He waited under the cover of the bushes for ten minutes before the masked men arrived. Luke counted four men: two equipped with pistols and the other two carrying machine guns. Luke removed his pistol from the holster. His breathing became shallower as the men drew nearer. Luke closed his eyes, following the rhythmic patter of their boots crunching along the gravel. Luke waited until they had passed and started walking a few feet behind them, making sure to match the pattern on his footsteps with his own.
Luke knew he only had a couple paces until they noticed him, so he drew his pistol at eye level and fired at the closest one. The shot went straight through the man’s back and came out of his chest with enough momentum to pierce the shoulder of the man in front of him.
The masked men were momentarily disoriented and Luke seized the opportunity to fire at the two left standing. He fired three shots in quick succession, two of which were on target and fatal wounds. By then the remaining assassin had realized that the man facing him was not an ally and fired two shots at him. One of the bullets grazed Luke’s thigh and the other went through his stomach. Luke’s face flushed from the pain but he managed to fire back, killing the remaining masked man. Luke heard the sound of police sirens in the distance. He suddenly felt weary with fatigue and decided to lie down on the grass. He winced from the sharp pain as he slowly laid himself down onto the wet lawn. Luke looked up into the sky and let out a maniacal laughter. He had rewritten fate, and managed to place all of the burdens of his actions onto himself. Fate had been cruel to Luke, but knowing that his former self now wouldn’t have to go through the same hardships, Luke was content. As Luke took his final breaths, a smile formed onto his face as the sorrow that plagued him over the years was finally lifted.