My Future Self Is Ruining My Life! 1 Congratulations, I'm Sorry, And Good Luck!

7:00 AM, September 1st, 2000 CE

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Michael woke up in his bas.e.m.e.nt bedroom with a terrible ringing in his ears and a what felt like a runny nose. Reflexively going to wipe his nose on the back of his hand, his bleary eyes looked down to realize that it was now smeared with blood. "That's weird, I don't usually get nosebleeds," he thought to himself. "Did the humidifier short out overnight again?" Grabbing a tissue from the box on his bedside table, he turned his head to look through bleary eyes at the beige rectangular device against the wall next to the stairs. Seeing the glowing green display still showing the correct values in the dim light, he winced as he blew his nose to clear out his nostrils. After checking to see the flow had already stopped, he took a tentative sniff of the air. He noticed a faint whiff of sulfur mixed with the expected ferric tang of blood. "Odd. Maybe it's the headache -- my head is KILLING me." He slowly pulled himself out of bed, grimacing at the pounding in his head, and started to make his way upstairs. He could smell the coffee percolating and vaguely hear the clatter of people moving around getting louder as he ascended to the main floor of the house.

"Morning, bro," his sister Anne mumbled through a mouthful of cereal. "Morning," Michael replied, through a yawn and half closed eyes as he went straight for the medicine cabinet. "You ok? Did you cut yourself?" Anne asked, frowning in concern. "Nah, just a headache. Mom and Dad gone already?" Michael replied as he pulled out a bottle of acetaminophen and poured himself a cup of coffee. "You just missed them. Lou's still in bed, since our cla.s.ses don't start til next week. Shower's all yours. There's leftover birthday cake from last night in the fridge. Not exactly breakfast fare, but it's yours so I guess you can do what you want with it." Michael grunted in appreciation, and a little bit of envy, as he tossed a couple of pills in his mouth and washed it down with a swig from the mug, food being pretty far from his mind with the current state of his brain. As expected, the coffee had already cooled down from when his parents brewed it for their breakfast a couple of hours earlier. Since they both worked in the capital, about an hour away from where the family lived, they left early and came home late. Michael probably wouldn't see them til suppertime. As the caffeine started to kick in, his eyes opened a little wider and he took a better look at his surroundings. The slow-cooker was plugged in on the counter, beginning to warm up for the evening's dinner, most likely. He also noticed a folded sheet of paper with his name written on it sitting next to the coffee maker. As he set down his coffee mug to pick up the paper, he asked his sister: "Do you smell something weird this morning? Like rotten eggs?" She smirked and replied, sticking out her tongue. "Just you." Michael chuckled as he unfolded the paper. "Set myself up for that one," he thought to himself as he began to read the letter.

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Hey Hon!

Congratulations on making it to your first day of high school, once again! Sorry we couldn't see you off, but we've both got early meetings so we had to head out earlier than usual. There's a roast in the slow-cooker for dinner, so if you can just make some sides when you get home, we should be back around the usual time. There's frozen veg in the freezer and instant rice in the cupboard.

Hope your first day of high school, and your first day as a teenager, goes great!

We love you.

Mom & Dad

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Michael smiled as finished the letter, and finished his coffee. As he set down the mug, the beating in his head and ringing in his ears got worse, and he could see a white spot flas.h.i.+ng in the bottom right corner of his vision. "Ugh," he winced, as he brought his right hand to cover his right eye. "Bro?" Anne called out, her concern returning. "It's nothing. Gotta wait for the pills to kick in. I'm going to go grab that shower." Oddly, even with his eye shut and covered, the white spot continued to flicker in the blackness of his sight, though it had now s.h.i.+fted into what looked like a number.

<...14...>>

He left the kitchen and made his way through the living room to the stairs up to the second floor.

<...37...>>

The number kept climbing as he made his way to the landing.

<...63...>>

He pulled open the bathroom door, quickly stripped off his pajama bottoms, climbed in the tub, turned on the faucet and pulled the diverter. He let the initial cold jet of water as the temperature adjusted hit his head, which he just noticed had been getting quite hot. The ringing in his ears was also building to a fever pitch as the number in the bottom right of his eyes finally hit 100.

<...initialization complete.="" h.e.l.lo,="" michael.="">>

Michael stared blankly at the script in the corner of his vision as the water hammered down on him. This continued for a while until he noticed the script change quickly, flas.h.i.+ng red.

>

He started and immediately backed out of the spray of the shower, seeing the warning disappear. He then leaned around the outside of the spray to lower the temperature, and finished his shower, robotically going through the motions. "What the heck is going on?" he screamed internally as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. As he finished toweling himself off, a new prompt appeared.

>

With no small amount of trepidation, Michael slowly turned his head to look in the mirror currently fogged up with steam. As it dissipated, Michael's face began to grow increasingly pale as he realized that where his reflection should be, stood another person entirely.

"h.e.l.lo Michael," the person said. "Congratulations, and happy belated birthday." The figure was bald, with salt and pepper stubble, and he was wearing a black long sleeved garment over a white turtleneck in a style Michael couldn't place. For some reason, the person in the mirror looked incredibly familiar - Michael's father was the oldest sibling in his family, but if Michael didn't know that, he would swear that he was looking at an older uncle right now. Was this his father? "No, I'm not Dad," the image chuckled, "and no, I can't read your mind, either." Michael found this statement to be suspect as that HAD been the next thought to cross his mind. The figure in the mirror continued: "Although, the reality is going to sound even more far-fetched. I'm you. Or rather, a possible version of you, some time in the future. From exactly when is irrelevant, since if this gamble pays off, it's likely that I'll never exist. I won't get into the details but the long and short of it is that I - and therefore, you - messed up. Not just recently, either - we've been messing up for a while. We could have been, and we need to be, better. So, we come to your birthday present. I've run the numbers, and while it might have been a tight squeeze, and might have come with a killer headache, I've managed to send you a little... package. It's a combination of bleeding edge technology from my time, as well as a number of aspects that fall pretty far outside what qualifies for science in your time. I've set it up to help you slowly get acclimated to the contents, and you'll learn more about that over time. If all goes well, this isn't the last time we'll have one of these... heart-to-hearts. As far as I know, you're the only person in the world who has this bag of goodies I've given you, so congratulations are indeed in order. Of course, there are some caveats. Like I said, we need to be better - and I'm going to make sure that you are. If you want these goodies - and trust me, you do - you're going to have to work for them. Ultimately it's for your own good, but you're probably going to curse our name before we're done. Sorry about that - sort of. I'll give you a bit of time to get settled with the basics, and once you've progressed a bit we'll chat again. Just pay attention to what you see out of the corner of your eye and you'll be fine. Mostly.

So, to recap:

Congratulations, I'm Sorry, and Good Luck!"