What If

Imagine waking up fully alert and aware of the fact nothing is as it once was. You step out of bed, ready for whatever comes your way. After a quick shower, a small meal, and a strong cup of coffee, you gather your belongings and step into the world outside your door, somehow seeing things differently.

I grew up in a home where we had to make do with what we had, but there always seemed to be more to what was going on around us. You see, the women in my family are all very spiritually enlightened individuals. Now, to call them witches in today's times would get you laughed at and ridiculed, but to deny what it is would only cause you to wish you never doubted. You see, it's because of those very women that I feel the way I do in this moment and about life in general. They instilled certain understandings within me. That of power, and the lack thereof. No matter what or who you believe in, power is the basis of it all. The fabric of life and death eloquently shimmer, which is why we play so close to danger; Both consciously and subconsciously.

Sometimes I get the urge to drive, to no place in particular. It was one of those days. I took off in a new direction. After some time, a sign caught my attention, although I'm not sure why. It isn't lit up, nor does it particularly stand out. I get the sense I've been here before. Like this moment has already happened. Following whatever is guiding me, I pull over, exit my vehicle, and lookup. The words 'What If' overlay a plain white sign. It seems like a weird name for a shop, yet it's both inviting and intriguing enough to want to know more. I examine things a little further before entering because I'm not sure if going inside is something I should do. I mean, there are no other signs on any other part of the building to indicate what I might be getting myself into, it looks out of place.

Inside I hear a song from my past, one that my grandmother would play. Alarm bells sound off in my head but in a way that pulls me deeper into the shop. At first, it's not what I expected; it kind of looks like an old mom-and-pop hardware store. I mostly see cleaning supplies and tools. As I go in further, it seems more like a book store. I saw a bunch of books and trinkets on shelves. Just as I find myself lost in my surroundings, I hear a voice that says, "What you're looking for is this way. Follow me."

We come across a door that appears to be a closet. It reads, "What was, Is, Can be."

I had to ask, "What exactly does that mean?"

The woman, who did not give a name, replied, "Depends."

I ask, "On what?"

She remained quiet for a moment, then waved her hand toward the doorway and said, "You have but to enter." Flooded with mixed emotions, I found myself intensely intrigued by 'What was, Is, Can be.' She killed the silence with a loud but short laugh. Saying, "Your choice has already been made. Come take what waits for you." After passing through the threshold, my eyes adjust to the lighting of the room. Immediately I'm drawn to the most fascinating books I've ever seen; All unique colors, shapes, and sizes. She warned, "Do not touch or open any of those books. They are not for you. To read a story, not your own, could bring ends to new beginnings and change the way things are meant to be." I laugh, and remark "That's questionable." She asks, "How so?" I responded with, "Well, if things are meant to be, then nothing can change that." She laughs and says, "What If!" She grabs me by the hand and leads me to a small book encased in tinted green glass. She tells me, "Grab hold of the book; open it." As I clasped the book in my hands, I felt the tables turn. Suddenly 'What If' became more real than I could have imagined. She says to me, "Reading a book not yet finished can mean one of two things; You've either lost control or you are in complete control. Sometimes the things we think we control, control us." I'm warned, "Be conscious of what you look to find. Know what has been written was, is, and can be something you wish never to experience."

I leave the store feeling excited yet not fully satisfied. I stare at the little black book in my hand. How could something so small change my life? I wait until I'm home before I decide to open it. A bit shaken, I wonder, "What if within the pages my views on life are changed drastically? What if it opens my mind to things I'm not ready for? What if I am ready?" To be ready is to be conscious of all possibilities. I'll be the first to admit I wasn't ready. Finally, I opened the little black book. I was instantly brought to a place I wasn't prepared to be, a place I've been before.

I'm 13 again, running down the street, looking over my shoulder. I hear my mom yelling at my brother for not having been fast enough to catch me. He didn't see me make my escape between two houses. I end up at a friend's house. I knock on the door, and I'm let in. Her aunt, whom we all called Candy Kelly, hollers, "Come in and get you something to eat, but stay out of the way and keep it down. My numbers are fixing to be announced!" As they call the numbers, I get this deja vu feeling, and I say the last number. "5". My friend laughs and calls me a psychic.

"How did you know that number would be called? "Candy Kelly asks.

"Well, I've been here before! Is this a dream?" I say

"No" she snorts, "but give me tomorrow's numbers, and if I win, I'll give you $20,000!"

I give her the first numbers that come to mind. I'm still unaware that I'm lost within the pages of my past. I seemed to blackout and lose track of time. Reality really because now I'm waking up in bed, in a room that at first is new to me. I'm not thirteen anymore. Suddenly I'm flooded with memories of a life that is far from the one I remember. The first thing that comes to mind is, "I must still be dreaming!"

My phone rings. It's my brother asking me if I'm 'ready.' I get a familiar feeling. 'Ready'? He says he's outside and tells me to let him in. On my way out of bed, the pictures on the wall catch my eye. It's my brother and me, but we looked more put together. Then something else catches my attention; An obituary of my uncle. I notice his birth and death dates. As I'm standing there trying to remember, my brother knocks at the door. I let him in.

"Damn bro, did you forget?" he jokes

"I don't remember this!" I say, pointing at the obituary.

"What?" He chuckles. "What was, is, and can be. That night was crazy. Mom was trippin' and sent me chasing after you, but you got away from me." Uncle died that night. He continued, "Mom lost it. She cried all night, drank herself crazy. Then out of nowhere, you show up, loaded! Talking about how Candy Kelly split her winnings with you because you gave her the winning numbers. I still question that." he laughs. "Anyways, I don't know what you took last night that has you acting like you don't have a clue but, just hurry up man!" he urges.

Why did he say that? What was, is, can be? That exact phrase? My mind is racing because this is either the most lucid dream ever or my life has changed drastically, and I don't exactly understand how. I step back into my room, my brother still on me to hurry up. As he raves about a hot new club's grand opening tonight, I laugh, just going with it.

"Remind me of the name of this club again?" I ask.

He laughs and replies, "Yeah, funny. What does 'What If' mean anyway?"

Time stops. I hear my heart beating as the name echoes in my head. I laugh anxiously. Reminded of what was, is, can be.

"I'm not sure," I say.

"Come on bro, you own half that joint and you mean to tell me you're not sure why the name is, what it is?" he insists.

All those memories flood back as I quickly look for a smart remark to hit him with to counteract the discomfort I felt.

"Imagine, life as you know it changes within the environment you find yourself in. While inside "What Ifs'" walls," I reply.

I laugh and say, "What if?"

I go to grab my keys, and I see it, the little black book. The very thing that may or may not be the cause of this all. I pick it up but think better than to open it. I need to know more before I read from it again. We hit the mall, but everything going on around me was a blur. All that's on my mind is the little black book. I ask myself, "Am I okay with where I'm at? Am I even really here? I've got money, and things seem to be good aside from the fact that uncle is gone. I want to believe it can't be because of the book, but my uncle was fine before those numbers came up. Is my financial gain the reason I lost someone I love? I question.

Before I know it, I'm in the VIP section with my brother, and I again get this feeling my life's about to change. A lady approaches me and whispers, "What was, is, can be. Go back to a time and place when things were, are, and will be, but leave things as they are. Change nothing. You have only but to read from the little black book." I open it.

I'm 13 again. I hear my grandma talking and realize it's my girlfriend's parents she speaking with. They're telling my grandma that I shouldn't be sneaking around with their daughter. I remember this. This is why I ran away. My girlfriend's dad told my grandma that he has a gun and will use it on me if I'm caught with their daughter again. I remember going upstairs to the bathroom and escaping through the window. The crazy thing is although 'now' was a long time ago, and it's a memory from my past, I still know the ins-and-outs of it. At least everything I consciously and subconsciously picked up on. So it seems that 'knowing' is the biggest curse of possessing the little black book.

So imagine you came across a little black book that had more than just the power to visit the past but bring to life what was, is, and can be. Would you give in and read it ignoring the signs from the book in your hands? Realizing it is a doorway to more than just a final destination, but is the key to a future where things brought to life are sometimes better left in the past.

Who's to say it's real? Who's to say it's not? What if? Are you willing to find out?