You wake up one morning to find that you are your three year old self, with your parents again, with all of the memories and experiences of your current life. Write this scene and express the emotion and frustration your character undergoes as you internally try to sort this out.
Prompt from WritersDigest.com
This is… I’m still me. Oh my God, look at this carpeting. It took way too long for the 70s to go away.
Damn, my dad’s chops really are awesome.
My mom is so gorgeous. I mean, she’s always been gorgeous to me, even when she was in – will be in? – her 60s.
And Nicole, too. Oh, little sister. I’ll be better this time. I’ll be better to you.
Oh my God. My God. I can do it all right this time. I can change it. I can fix the things I did that were stupid. Do I want to fix those things? I had so much. My marriage, my husband, our house… the child we were trying for. Do I have to spend 30 years waiting for those things again?
I’m terrified. I know too much. I can change the world. I can change history. I can place myself in the path of anyone. I can be rich, influential. Steve Jobs. Barack Obama. Al Gore. Heh, maybe I can even give George Lucas a tip or three.
This is too much. I’m not responsible enough for this. These decisions can’t be in my hands. These little hands. They’re far too small. They’ll always be too small.
Challenger. Pan Am 103. Tiananmen Square. Desert Storm. Rodney King. Oklahoma City. The recession.
I’m so small. I’m so selfish. What right do I have to all this knowledge? And how can I make anyone listen?
So I’m small. Start small. I already know the basics. And then some. I’m three, and I’m already reading and writing. At least if I can get my motor skills going. I’m limited.
What does that mean for going to school? What does it mean for the people who will teach me? Can I go further than I did before?
There was so much I would have done differently in college. I don’t have to experiment. I already know.
I could be the musician I wanted to be. I could learn piano. I have all the time I need.
I’ll have to be careful. What if something I do changes the world, ever so slightly? What if I create a world in which my favorite things never come into being? I’ll miss something that never existed. Won’t I?
I can write the books that I always wanted to. I’d be a wunderkind.
I have all this time. Another lifetime.
I can right the mistakes I made. I can be sure they never happen. I can save the world.
But should I? What’s right?
Will I frighten people? What will my parents think? Who will I become? Someone who will know my friends the way I did before? Will I be someone my husband will love?
Will I be me?
Who am I?