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My name is Maxwell Edison, and this is my story. My story takes place a long
time ago, I can't quite remember when, though. It happened like this...
It was 1966, I believe. Ah, yes. I remember
now. June, 1966. I had just turned fifteen, and my Aunt Jessie gave me the new Beatles album, Yesterday... and Today for my
birthday.
When I got home, I went into my room, turned on the turntable I had in my room, set the speed, and put it
on. I put the needle on the record and---
I was spinning out of control, down, down, down... CRASH! I found myself
in a store full of records... I walked around, dazed and confused. "What the--- What happened?" I found myself asking. I was
still clutching the slick, shiny cover of the record my aunt gave me for my birthday... "I must be dreaming," I thought aloud,
"Maybe I fell asleep after I put it on..." I tried pinching myself, but to no avail. "Oh, no!" I said. "This is no dream!"
The people behind the counter were staring at me now.
One woman, who just bought a copy of Rubber Soul, came toward
me. "She looks just like my Aunt," I thought. "Are you okay?" asked the woman in an accent that sounded just like my aunt
Jessie's. "You don't look too good." "I honestly have no idea," I said. "I just found myself here." I wish I hadn't said that.
I became afraid that she would call the police and tell them I was crazy. Instead, she asked "Would you like to come to my
house and rest?" I gratefully accepted.
She took me to a large red house with a big red barn next to it. She unlocked
the door, opened it, and ushered me inside. "Please, lie down here," she said, indicating a large, squashy leather couch.
"If you like," she said, "I'll put my new record on." "Please do," I said, because music helps me think better. She fumbled
around in her purse, pulled out a small, red pocketknife and set it next to the record player. I was about to ask "What's
that?", but she said "My name's Jessica, by the way, but you can call me Jessie." "My name's Maxwell." I said. "I know," said
Jessie. "I'm your aunt!"
"Wha-- Aunt Jessie? Oh! It's so good to see you!" I got up and began running at her to give
her a hug, but instead, she picked up the pocketknife and pulled out a shining, silvery blade. I stopped dead. "What are you
doing?" I asked. "You don't get it, do you, boy?" she said. Her accent disappeared. She pulled off her face, revealing the
face of a middle-aged man. He spoke: "I'm not your beloved auntie!" His voice was low pitched now. I backed away, stepping
on a small handgun on the floor. I picked it up, and kept it pointed at the man, ready to defend myself. He came at me, but
I shot him in the arm that was holding the knife without even meaning to. I ran to the door, down the street, and didn't look
back. I went to the police station.
"Sheriff, you've gotta help me!" I cried. "A man tried to kill me!" "Calm down,"
said the sheriff. "Here, have some milk." He went to a small refrigerator and retrieved a jug of milk. He poured some into
a glass. "Now tell me," he said, handing me the glass, "What did he look like?" "He was a middle-aged man," I said, "and he
wasn't very tall. Five feet at the most. He had black hair, a mustache, and he wore John Lennon glasses. He was wearing a
white shirt---" "Like me?" said the sheriff, pulling off his face, revealing the man I had just described.
I pointed
the gun at him. "Foolish boy," he said. "Don't try to shoot me. It won't work." I shot anyway. Ping! The bullet bounced off
him, breaking a TV screen. "See?" said he. "I'm a cyborg, sent from the future to destroy you. I disguised myself as your
aunt and gave you that record, which was really a time machine. The record brought you here, and now you will die." He ran
at me, but I managed to dodge him. I jumped on his back, ripped off the white shirt, and ripped away various wires, trying
to do something.
After a few wires were ripped away, the cyborg started speaking, not changing the tone of his voice.
"That controls my voice, fool! You'll never defeat me!" But he was wrong. I saw a thick, red wire connected to the back of
its head, and pulled it. The cyborg stopped. It started smoking. I jumped off and ran out of the police station. The station
went up in flames, and I ran back to the record store. I immediately bought a Yesterday... and Today and put it on a turntable
in the store...
I was again spinning out of control, down, down, down... CRASH! I landed back in my room, safe, and
not being chased by cyborgs. But how could I explain having TWO Yesterday... and Today records?
The End
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