“I volunteer,” I said.

 “What? No, he doesn't.” My mom grabbed me by the arm and swung me around to face her. “What the hell do you think you're doing?” she said. Her voice had an angry, yet disappointing tone in it. 

“C’mon, Mom. It won’t even be that bad. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. I can't wait to brag to all my friends at school tomorrow!” 

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. You have no idea what will happen to you. Nothing like this has ever been done before,” she snapped.

 “Mom, you are always looking out for me. I’m 10. I’m basically grown. I don’t need your help all the time. You know I love you more than anything but I really wanna do this. And besides, they need people to test it if they wanna know if it works right?” there was a slight pause in between my words. I’ll be back in a while. I love you, Mom.” 

“Okay fine whatever. Do what you want if you think you're so ‘grown.’ I'll see you in a little bit. I love you too Jack. be safe.” Disregarding what she told me at first, I start walking to the machine through a crowd of people with a bunch of emotions, who so kindly made a pathway for me. Some had worried faces, others had smiles and were laughing, but the majority of people all had their phones our recording everything. I was clearly the center of attention. Like always. I truly had been waiting for this day for who knows how long. It’s always been my dream. I slowly step into the machine, while locking eyes with the person who made it. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. A weird beige rusty color with tiny pipes and poles and wires sticking out everywhere. The door looked like the door used to make a vault. The engineer had everything required to make a creepy scientist or something: A top hat with crazy white hair sticking out from the sides and back, a pair of circular goggles sitting nicely on the brim, like a dog waiting for food. He had the weirdest mustache too. It was curly or whatever. He had giant wide eyes and a smile on his face like he was waiting for me to blow up or something. 

“Ready to go?” his voice was low and creepy, his face way too close to mine and his breath smelled like ass. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

“Oh, wonderful. Be a good little boy and put the seat belt on for me.” He was staring at me the whole time, but his eyelids never managed to get any smaller. As he closes the door to the machine, I begin to think about what my mom had said before. Her words sank into my scull like water into a sponge. What if something happens? She was all I had. I couldn’t risk it. I tried scrambling out of the machine. I tried to unbuckle the seat belt and rip it off me, but it had locked in place like when you pull on it too hard, and there was a code covering the buckle that I would only receive once I got to the future. But it was too late. All the buttons and levers around the whole entire thing made everything really confusing. While I was trying to get out, I heard the door lock shut and I knew I couldn’t do anything else to try and get out. It was no use. The last thing I remember was her face. A mopey, sad, unforgivable look that was plastered, with a single tear running down her cheek. I can still see her face when I close my eyes, and the anger in her voice when I listen hard enough, but that promptly got interrupted by the automated sound of counting. I heard the machine start-up, and the lights turn on. It’s showtime. I close my eyes and squint as hard as I could, hoping to make my teleport back to my mom, and into my house instead of an hour into the future. The whole trip took only about 10 seconds, as it was only an hour in the future. I try to open the door to the machine after waiting for a couple of seconds to make sure the teleportation was actually done. I open the door only to see nothing. Nothing but the inner city of Boston, with nothing but a bunch of black buildings, and the skyline with a slight orange glow from behind them. There was nothing in sight. All the lights in the buildings had been shut off. Even to the dinner my mom and I went to for lunch. The whole city was in a blackout, except for one street light, with a singular wire connecting it to a generator. Oh no. even my mom was gone. She would never leave me like that. She knew I was only gonna be gone for an hour, and she had enough time to wait. I mean we were on our way to lunch and clothes shopping, which would’ve taken more than an hour. I saw one person. One person after waiting for 5 minutes all by myself. One person appears under the glow of the street light. That was all I saw. Her, with an empty shopping bag in her hand, and her blind white-haired chihuahua in her other one. The dogs’ red beefy eyes glow under the LED light. She was just walking alone, minding her own business. A ‘normal’ person in a ‘normal’ city. Right? She's looking around when she looks into the sky. She freezes, stops for a couple of minutes, drops the dog and bag, puts her hand over her mouth, and screams in horror. Her chihuahua runs away as fast as it could.“Lady, what’s your problem?” I yelled at her as a result of saying what I was thinking. I had instant regret for speaking my mind. For everything really. I mean it wasn’t even for money or fame, and I missed my mom. A lot. All of this for nothing but a stupid little test run, and maybe the 90% chance my mom runs up to me and hugs me. I gave the woman's attention to the sky. Turning around, my eyes widened. An asteroid. Heading right towards us. It’s hard to tell when it would actually hit us or not. I sprint back towards the machine and open the door. Everything is the same, but one thing. 

“If you wish to go back, you must never tell anyone what you saw.” 

The code for my seatbelt was right above that in similar writing but a completely different color. What? I had to warn everyone though. What are they gonna do when they see the asteroid hurling towards us an hour after, and they find out I didn’t tell them? Even if I did explain everything, no one would believe me. I accept that when I get back, I will have to lie. I’ve never lied to my mom. I would much rather lie than never see my mom again. The whole trip was the same as it was. Short, jolty, and uncomfortable. Right as the door opens, everything is the exact same. The line where I walked through the crowd was still there, and my mom was standing in the same spot. Right as I hear the little click of the seatbelt, I run up to my mom and hug her. At least I got to see her one last time.