[ WP ] A new technology has been developed that allows for a form of immortality by sending a person 's memories back in time to when they were a teenager . You are the first to undergo this procedure .

The room is clean and mostly empty. It is cold. My bare feet feel like ice on the linoleum floor. Goosebumps raise the hair on my arms and legs. My gown barely covers my backside. There is a metal table with a device reminiscent of a dentist chair light. There is a large two way mirror on the opposite side of the room. I look at my 32 year old reflection for the last time for the next 15 years. 
 
 `` Please lay down flat on the table,'' a voice says through the intercom. 
 
 As I lay down I ca n't help but shiver. `` It's very cold in here.'' 
 
 `` The temperature of the room is very important to the procedure. It is imperative that you did not bring in any materials other than the gown we provided to you.'' The man on the intercom is Dr. Rockwell. He recruited me into the program as I am a unique candidate. Dr. Rockwell had been a physics teacher at my high school who got issued a government grant to bring his theory on retrocausality to experimentation. Dr. Rockwell believes without a doubt that physical time travel is a complete impossibility since matter itself can not be created or destroyed, at least in the conventional sense. He believes that physically traveling through time must replace the matter that existed at that time, without a medium for that to occur it can never be accomplished. However, it was his genius that came up the the *Flashback Program*. Just because matter can not travel across time does not mean that information can not. My job was to test his theory. Since I knew Dr. Rockwell 15 years ago. I was to approach him and accelerate his program. Of course, at first it did n't make sense to me. Why would he send me back in time when he could just go himself. He is a whole lot smarter than I will ever be. Risks are involved with the program and I unfortunately have been diagnosed with lung cancer and told I have just another year or two of life left; who would n't jump at the chance to travel back and stop themselves from smoking in the first place? I did n't really have much to risk, I am childless and single with no family of my own to speak for. 
 
 `` No, I have not brought anything in with me.'' Before entering into the room I was told to take a hot shower and scrape every part of my body with a rather rough pumice to clear all dead skin and possible contaminates from my body. The gown was pulled out of a shrinkwrapped package immediately after exiting the shower just outside the room. 
 
 `` Good, then we shall begin,'' The intercom clicked off and the device now over my head now lit up. A whirring noise started to hum softly at first then became almost deafening. I wanted to cover my ears but I had been told to lay completely still during the process. The whirring softened again and the light dimmed but did not completely turn off. The intercom clicked again and Dr. Rockwell spoke, `` Alright, the device has been calibrated. Remember, you will be our first chrononaut. If all goes well together you and I will change the world. Do you remember the password?'' 
 
 When Dr. Rockwell first thought of this experiment he had the foresight to think of a password if he ever did get to fulfill his dream. I responded with the word he had given me, `` Conundrum.'' 
 
 `` Good luck,'' I heard the click of the intercom one last time before there was a loud bang and bright flash of light. 
 ______________________________ 
 
 The next thing I know I am laying face down into a pillow. I open my eyes and I see the sheets are a plaid green. I am having trouble moving at first. I was told that this could be disorienting but no one really knew what to expect. That's the scary part of being a pioneer. I see a dresser with action figures I do n't recognize neatly arranged on top. On the floor are a few comic books. I never read comics as a kid. Slowly I manage to lift myself and sit up on the mattress. I put my head in my hands with a splitting migraine. There is a mirror hanging behind the door on the other side of the room. Blood rushes to my head as I stand and I stumble to the mirror. I can only see through pinholes due to the headrush but as I take a few deep breaths my vision clears and I can start to make out the reflection staring back at me, and I suddenly realize... it's not me. I reach up to touch my face, a strangers face. It is definitely my face, but it's not MY face. Dr. Rockwell never prepared me for this.
