Beyond the Warnings

Her curiosity made her unlock that drawer; she remembered her grandfather’s forbidding words, and yet the key lay on the makeup table… almost as though someone wanted her to peek. “Just one quick glance won’t hurt,” she decided. 1

When the drawer slid open, it invited a sweet melody into the room like a music box. She hummed along; she knew the song well, but she couldn’t place where or when she’d heard it before. Examining the interior of the drawer, she merely saw a photo album hidden at the very bottom. She realized that her name was stitched into the cover, along with one final warning “Do not open” - she’d gone too far to abide this caution. So she opened the book to the first page… 2

She fell into déjà vu as her eyes drifted to a portrait of her parents holding her infant self before the Christmas tree. Underneath the picture, the caption read “Family”. Her eyes filled with nostalgia; each looked so happy and full of life in that picture, and now… Stealing one last glance at her parents, she carefully turned the page. 3

Before her, the word “Loss” - she could smell the faint butter scent that always permeated the county fair. It was the day of the “accident”: her grandfather held her hand as the Ferris wheel imitated the circles in the mind as she tried to understand what had happened. “And what did happen?” she wondered. “Grandpa had never offered a sufficient explanation.” A tear trickled down her cheek before she could stop it. 4

Her curiosity and nostalgia dragging her on, she moved the photo album to the top of the makeup table - and, in doing so, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Certain she must have been hallucinating, she doubled back. Her long blond hair was braided into two pigtails along the sides of her rounded face, dotted with freckles: like her eight-year-old self on the Ferris wheel. She touched her face and hair in amazement, “No, this can’t be…”. Yet for the moment, she knew it was. 5

She flipped the page and saw her graduation picture: a group of a dozen or so wearing the dark robes, the graduation cap, and bright grins; their hands all rested on each other’s shoulders. “Friendship”, it read. She looked back up to the mirror, and the eighteen-year-old stared back. 6

The next photograph, “Love”, showed her kissing a man at their wedding. “Wait - how can this be?!” she asked, bewildered. She’d never met him, never mind met him at that apparent state of intimacy, nor even ever seen him before… yet she knew that he was her perfect match. “This makes it easy,” she chuckled to herself, “I can just look for him and not bother going out with other guys at all!”. Even before looking in the mirror, she knew what she will find; she touched her veil and the roses on her tiara. 7

As she continued delving into the album, she witnessed many more events that would occur in her future: the birth of her children, the death of her grandfather, the realization of some of her ambitions, etc. Each subtitle noted one general theme or one of her characteristics that especially marked that memory. 8

At the sight of each new photograph, the mirror aged her into this new stage of her life. Gradually, a shocking thought occurred to her: “What if I’m living through these photographs?”. She shivered, “No, it can’t be. Once I lock this photo album back into the drawer, I’ll be back to my usual self.” But she couldn’t put it down yet - she kept turning the pages like this was the most interesting story she’d ever read. 9

Regretfully, she saw that only one more page remained; slowly, she folded over the corner and unveiled it. 10

The caption read “Curiosity”. 11

12

13