Desperately seeking genre

Published May 9, 2011 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

Any ideas how I should classify this?

Here’s part II

 Both Sides. Now. Continued

“Well, no, but . . . “

“But someone was in terrible danger, it’s just this one time, and isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? “

“Well, yeah?”

I had no idea what was going on.  The man pulled out what looked like a blackberry and started punching buttons. He made the face that my dad makes when he’s trying not to kill me and said,

“ Well, it’s too late to send her back, she’ll have to stay until we can figure out when no one will notice the switch.”

I was starting to get annoyed.

“ Why do you keep talking about me like I’m not here?  And what the hell is going on?”

The man turned to me and smiled weakly.

“I’m so sorry, my dear. This must be very confusing.”

No duh.  He continued.

“ A few minutes ago, Daniel and his cohort Cassidy saw you in a situation that they perceived as perilous.”

“ I don’t really remember.”

“ Don’t worry, we can look at through the monitor.”

“Monitor? What’s going on here?”

The boy looked over at me.

“ Me and Cassidy were watching you and something bad was going to happen.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. The man punched something on his hand held and images appeared on the wall.  Holograms, like in Star Wars.  It was me, running down the street in my socks, a man in a wool coat chasing me.  I was right in front of the Library when the man reached out or me.

Then I disappeared.

I watched in disbelief as I reappeared, facing the man.  I watched myself punch him in the chest, causing him to fall.

Then I looked down at my socks, then back at the hologram.  I was wearing boots.

“That’s not me.”

The man smiled at me, shaking his head.

“No, it’s not.”

“Seriously, what’s going on?”

Just then, a truly gorgeous blonde walked in.

She smiled.

“Daniel, they want you back in class.”

The man turned Daniel towards the door and gave him a not so gentle nudge.

“Thank you, Jay, he’ll be right there.”

My feet were starting to get cold and since no one seemed willing to come right out and tell me what was going on, I  said,

“ Could I get some dry socks and maybe some shoes?”

The man turned back to me.

“Of course, darling.”

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I get that a lot. I guess I just have one of those faces.”

It was unsettling.  He  looked so familiar, and so had the blonde.  Maybe I was having one of those bizarre dreams where everyone you’ve ever met makes a cameo appearance.

He led me to what looked like the best living room ever, with big comfy couches and bean bags everywhere.  I sat down and the blonde came back with a pair of fuzzy slipper socks like the ones I had at home.  She was dazzling.

“Um, did we go to elementary school together?”

She blushed and ducked her head saying, “No, I don’t think so.”

“You just look. . . “

“I know.”

This was starting to get creepy.

She left as the man cleared his throat.

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