She Sent Me to Him from The Future

(Back in highschool) The bathroom door slammed open so hard the mirror rattled. She stood frozen, one hand still on the cold porcelain sink, staring at the two figures tangled against the far wall. Her boyfriend, had his hands under the cheer captain’s skirt. The girl’s lipstick was smeared across his neck like a brand. He screamed her name with a cracked voice. She didn’t wait for the rest. She turned and ran. The school hallway blurred. Lockers, posters, laughing faces all of it smeared into noise. She shoved through the double doors into the rain-soaked parking lot, lungs burning, the taste of copper in her mouth. Her phone buzzed. Ethan’s name. She almost answered. A hand closed around her wrist. Not Ethan’s. The grip was firm, familiar, and impossible. She spun and looked up into her own face older, sharper, eyes fierce with something that looked like fear and fury mixed together. Same dark hair, same scar above the left eyebrow from the bike accident in Year 9, but this version of her wore a tailored black coat and carried the weight of years she hadn’t lived yet. “Don’t get in that car,” the older she said, voice low and urgent. “If you leave with him tonight, everything ends. You never meet him. You never become her. And his son never gets a mother.” Her mouth was open, but no sound came out. Behind them, Ethan’s car screeched into the lot, headlights cutting through the rain. The older woman her tightened her grip. “Listen to me. Tomorrow at 3:17 p.m., you will be offered a choice that feels safe. A scholarship. A boy who promises forever. If you take it, the path that leads you to him closes forever. Walk away from Ethan right now. Go home. Lock the door. And when the letter arrives tomorrow, burn it.” Thunder cracked. She yanked her arm free. “Who the hell are you?” “I’m the woman who watched you lose him once. I’m not watching it again.” Ethan’s car door slammed. He shouted her name. The older she stepped back into the rain and was simply… gone. She stood alone under the streetlight, heart hammering, rain soaking through her uniform. She looked at Ethan’s approaching figure, then at the empty space where her future self had stood. She turned and ran the opposite direction toward home, toward the locked door, toward a choice she didn’t understand yet. Because the woman with her face had said one name that lodged like a thorn in her chest. “....Al-Hassan”.