I was woken the next morning by a women dressed in a labcoat. The Labcoats monitored my every move, trying to figure me out. It was rather unsettling. She informed me that the headmaster wanted to see me, before stepping out of my room. I held my breath as I walked to the headmaster's office. What could they possibly want now?

The door to Professor Xeninta's office was closed ,which meant I had to wait in the hall on a bench to see him. Students and faculty members eyed me suspiciously, as if I were a criminal. Was going to the headmaster's office really that big of a deal?

I spotted Aleeka in the crowd and immediately pulled the hood of my sweater over my head, in effort to conceal my face. It was too late, Aleeka must have sensed my aura. She was like a bloodhound in that way. She rushed over to greet me. I wasn't sure if she would be angry that I didn't get the footage of her sabotaging her cousin, but after last nights ordeal I didn't entirely care. I was traumatized over the footage I actually did see last night. I hardly got any sleep. I stayed up late last night debating whether professor Xeninta was truly insane or not. Does he not realize how reckless some of the kids were that he was letting into the school?

“What's the matter?” Aleeka asked. There was no use lying to her, so I merely omitted the truth. “Didn't find your footage last night.”

Aleeka laughed. “No worries. I just wanted to see if you would actually go through with it.”

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. “Are we done here then?”

She nodded her head. “For now,” she winked before sprinting away.

A moment later I was called into the headmaster's office. On his desk sat a pendulum that remained in motion. Bookcases housed ancient texts. A globe sat on a table. It was flagged with red circles in certain areas. I took a seat across from Professor Xeninta at his desk. He pointed to my hood drawn over my eyes. I sighed before pushing it back down. He smiled politely and looked down at my shoes. “Sera. I allowed My secretary to escort you on a shopping trip in hopes that you would buy new clothing and shoes.”

I crossed my feet and hid them under my chair. “These are new shoes. It's just a personal effect, is all.”

He cleared his throat. “May I see them again?” After a moment of uncertainty, I kicked my shoes up on his desk. He examined the artwork for a moment. It wasn't anything too spectacular, just some abstract art. He smiled at me. “You can tell a lot about someone by doodles, if you will. However your artwork is very random. Shapes, unheard of symbols.” he examined my shoes closer. “Are those hieroglyphics?”

I pulled my feet down from his desk and sat up straight, “I think not. Please sir, what is it you wanted to see me about?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes about that. As you know I have been doing a lot of extensive research with my team on your case.”

I nodded my head and leaned forward anxiously awaiting the news. “We got a hit. An Exgene family that lived in Niagara Falls eight years ago,” He announced.

I gripped the edge of my seat. I only had a million questions to ask him. He raised his hand to silence me before I could voice any of them.

“The DNA analysis matched up.”

I felt a smile form on my face. “This is amazing.”

The headmaster shook his head. “Please let me finish. I found an old newspaper article on the internet. Have a look,” he said handing me the print out on his desk. The article was dated; April 14, 2012. I read the headline.

                                           Niagara County Girl Burns in Fire.

Police are investigating a tragic fire that occurred on Opal street last night at the Hunter residence. Police have adequate reason to suspect the fire was started by Niagara purifiers.

The words began to blur together, I scanned the article for important information, and found what I needed in the last paragraph.

The fire claimed the life of twelve year old Maddison Hunter, parents Linda and David Hunter reside in critical condition at Niagara County Hospital. A community fundraiser and candle light ceremony will be held at the Community Center Tuesday at 7pm.

Above the article was a picture of the family, my family. A women with blonde hair and facial features similar to my own and a tall man with dark hair and glasses, stood on either side of a petite looking brunette girl.

I handed Professor Xeninta back the article. “My sister is dead, “ I whispered. “The worst part is, I don't even remember her.”

The headmaster lowered his gaze. “Do you notice anything off about this family picture?”

I wrapped my arms about myself and glanced back at the picture. “I'm not in it. Why is that?”

“It took awhile for us to figure it out ourselves. It seems when you went through the porthole and traveled to the year 2020 you erased yourself from an earlier existence.”

I couldn't speak, I could barley breath.

“Sera, I debated showing you this article for obvious reasons.”

I ignored him and pressed for more answers. “Where are my parents now in 2020?”

He folded his hands in front of him. “Your father works in retail. Your mother.... is in an award winning hospital for those suffering with addictions and mental issues.”

I bolted out of my chair. “ My mother is in a psych ward? Why is she there?”

He stood up to level his gaze with mine. “There is some information that is off limits, even to me.”

I stared blankly at him. I couldn't except what he was telling me, I had to find them and see it for myself.

“Sera, under no circumstance are you to find your parents. They have no memory of you. As it seems you have already defied all logic by traveling to this time period. Facing your parents now could have dire consequences.”

I was so angry I didn't even ask what those consequences were. I turned to leave.

“Wait, there's more.”

I faced the headmaster. “I think I've had enough.”

“Please. I just need to reiterate, any attempt at opening a porthole could lead to even more peril, should you travel through the time continuum again,” he warned.

“So I can't even exercise my gift?”

Professor Xeninta bent over his desk and began to scrawl on a piece of paper. “I'm registering you for Meditation. This class will help you regain self control, and possibly allow you to access some of those memories, should you excel at it Your instructor will tell me when he feels confident in your self control. When that happens we will approach the subject again. Until than no portholes.”

I nodded solemnly. He handed me a sticky note with a class schedule on it. My free period was now booked with Meditation.

He smiled encouragingly at me. “Baby steps Sera.”

The End

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