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Lucine Katelin Lucine Ms. Gardner English 10 Per.

0 5 September 2013 As the River Flows I have always wondered what I would look like when I am older. I imagined myself as a gentle and caring old woman with a husband and children. I always had a picture in my mind of how I would look and behave. I never pictured myself to be lonely with no family. What I saw scared me. When I looked down at the clear, flowing river, I saw two things: my reflection in the ever-changing river, and my future self. When I looked to my right, I noticed a living, breathing me, but fifty-five years older standing next to me. She was not a fantasy in my head anymore; she was an existing human being. Excuse me; I could not have helped to notice that you and I look very similar. I would recognize my curly hair anywhere! The old woman stood to the right of me staring off into the distance as if she never heard me speak. She walked away from me and sat down on a nearby bench that was placed between two myrtle trees. She acted as though she wanted me to follow her. As I sit down next to her on the old, creaky bench I asked, Are you lost? She had this look of confusion on her face. It almost seemed as though she was visually impaired. She did not answer. A moment later, she finally spoke. What is a girl like you doing alone in the forest? I could ask you the same question I responded.

Lucine I do not know. She said sadly. I do not know where I am or how I got here. I am becoming more forgetful as I get older. I do not remember my family, my childhood or even my own name. It almost seemed as if she were about to tell me her whole life story but then she stopped mid-breath with a dazed expression. It was as if she forgot how to speak. I wanted to trigger her memory about her childhood so I told her what I knew about my own thinking we were the same person. I told her that I picked up my little sister by the neck when I was four. I also told her about the time I hit a rock and fell out of the kayak floating down the McKenzie River in Oregon, and that I stepped on a rusty nail that poked through my shoe and punctured my foot. I also told her about my family and our traditions each year and that my grandfather gave me my grandmothers pearl earrings for Christmas last year after she passed away as a remembrance of her. I have big hopes and dreams for my future. I start to tell her. I want to get into a good college and major in forensic science so I can become a crime scene investigator. I have fantasized about this occupation since I was twelve years old. I also want a loving husband and children. I only told her about my future because if I really am her, but fifty-five years younger than my future could possibly be her past. As I was telling her about my life, past and present, I was slowly realizing that she had a form of dementia. I could tell by the look on her face that she was slowly remembering some of the things I was explaining to her. She looked at me with the expression of astonishment, and I could tell that her life was slowly coming back to her memory. I remember everything now! I remember my parents telling me about the time I picked Rachel up by the neck and how I laughed every time my parents told me the story and the time I fell out of the kayak and we stopped in a meadow on the

Lucine side of the river so I could lay in the sun and dry off. I also remember stepping on the rusty nail, screaming and crying until my dad pulled it out of my foot. I remember all of our family traditions: holiday parties at my aunts house, and going to Pajaro Dunes for a family reunion every October. I also remember the earrings my grandfather gave to me. She talked so rapidly I almost could not understand her. She moved her bouncy, gray hair behind her ear and showed me the earrings she was wearing. We were both wearing the same earrings that my grandfather gave to me. We looked at each other and smiled. At that moment, we both realized we were the same person. She asked me if I would like to hear about my future and without any thought, I blurted out, of course I would! I saved many lives working as a crime scene investigator for the FBI. She continued to tell me. I believe that being a crime scene investigator was the most suitable job for me. I was able to prove many things to myself like who I am and who I was meant to become. Just as you imagined, I have a husband and three children. I am so glad to hear that my dreams are going to come true. I cannot wait to see what lies ahead of me for my future. The image I had in my head of myself came true. I am going to be a caring, wrinkly, old woman who lived a life full of adventure. We both sat in silence for a few minutes, memories of our past running through our heads, thoughts of my future still to come, and smiles on both of our faces. Bewildered, she turned to me, looked me in the eyes and said, Who are you?