[ WP ] You wake up on exact date of your 5th birth date in your 5 year old body , with your current memory .

I lifted my hand, and a child's palm stared back at me. I rotated my wrist and examined the back. Sitting in the webbing between my thumb and forefinger, a mole darkened my skin. A second mole occupied the region between my middle and forefinger, while a third dotted the skin about an inch below my middle finger's knuckle. I knew this hand like, well, like the back of my hand. 
 
 Gently, I pinched my hand, hoping to feel no pain. It was no use. The sensation of touch clearly demonstrated the reality of my situation. The only question was, what exactly was my situation? I surveyed my surroundings. A candy-apple red, plastic sports car surrounded my bed. Pale blue animals danced along the walls, oblivious to the nightmare unfolding around them. Staring intently, several plastic army men scouted me from the top of a dresser. My dresser. 
 
 This had to be my childhood home. Hesitantly, I swung my pajama-covered legs over the side of the bed, dipped my toes into the thick, shag carpet, and tip-toed my way toward the bathroom that I knew would be across the hall. A small silhouette filled the mirror above the sink like a poster for a horror film. I flipped the light switch. A small boy stared at me from beyond the glass. Me. I could n't be more than five years old. 
 
 `` What the hell is going on?'' I asked, unwilling to believe the high pitched voice of a child that had left my mouth could really be mine, even though I could clearly see my lips moving in the mirror. 
 
 `` What was that honey?'' my mother said, only this could n't be my mother. This was a ghost. My mother had died decades ago, beaten down by the ravages of cancer. Consumed by her own body, I had watched her wither into nonexistance - what hell taunted me with the healthy face of her youth, now looking at me from the hall? 
 
 `` Oh, uh, nothing.'' I said. 
 
 `` Okay, sweetie. Do you want to take your bath first or have breakfast? You need to get moving if we're going to get to grandma's on time for your party.'' she said. 
 
 `` I'll take a bath first.'' I replied. I had no idea what was happening, but I could certainly use a few minutes alone to calm myself and formulate a plan. Hoping to sober myself, cold water prickled my skin, raising goosebumps all over my tiny frame. 
 
 `` Okay, Nick, be rational. Time travel is n't a thing, so that ca n't be it. Unless of course someone invented it, I chose to travel through time, but somehow my memories were impaired along the way. No, that does n't make sense. I can remember yesterday just fine. Although, if my memory had been damaged, would I realize it? Maybe I only *think* it was yesterday, but in reality it was twenty years ago, and it was just the most recent bit of memory that was n't burned away? 
 
 But if that's the case, why did only some of my memory get destroyed? Would n't a catastrophic restructuring of my brain likely eliminate all memory, or leave me heavily fragmented?'' I thought. 
 
 I reflected on my past, trying to draw memories from the last 38 years. I did n't *feel* any obvious holes - no more so than one would normally forget, anyway. 
 
 `` Let's be reasonable here, the only way I can verify absences or defects in my memory would be by comparing with verifiable, objective sources. I'm not going to find any of those around here, so it is moot to examine this further. I think it's safe to say I'm not living in some sci-fi world where time travel exists. 
 
 Is it though? I'm in the body of my five year old self, what can I really rule out? Body swapping aliens? Has my whole life been an episode of The Twilight Zone? Did I die? Was I given a do-over to better my life? Okay, okay, get a grip.'' 
 
 I could only decide on indecision. For now, I would try to blend in, testing my reality until I had a better idea of how I managed to step back in time 33 years, and thereby gain a better idea of how to get back to the life I had once known. 
 *** 
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