A story I saw on pintrest so I figured I'd write my own

I found out at a young age I could contact futer people. It started with a journal I had to do for an assessment when I was 7. I had written about my day and left the question, Today was fun, wat will hapen tomorro? And when I opened up my journal the next morning someone had written a reply.

You will have a good day, mom made pasta

My first thought, "Pasta! I love pasta!" Then I realized, "who wrote that? How do they know?" I wrote it down, closed the notebook, and headed downstairs to ask my mum what we were going to eat.

It turns out the book was right, and when I got home from school, the notebook told me it was a futer version of myself. It also told me I sucked at spelling, and if I didn't start practicing I wouldn't be able to get into the Spelling Bee.

After that day, I got better at spelling first off, and I talked to myself a lot more. Keeping a journal, and waking up to my questions being answered.

When I was 12, I got my first phone. Soon after that, I got my first text message from myself.

Me: <Don't ask for Holly's number>

Holly was my crush at the time, she was the prettiest girl in my grade, and we shared a math class. It turns out Holly had a boyfriend, and if I had asked for her number he most definitely would have beaten me up. Middle school dudes are scary.

I would ask myself silly questions. Will I get a girlfriend, is she pretty, do I pass algebra. The answer to the first two are no, but I passed algebra!

Moving into highschool I realized why I didn't get a girlfriend, I didn't really like girls...at all. Sure they were pretty, but I'd rather date a guy. When I made the realization, I got a text.

Me: <fricken finally mate, only been dropping hints since forever>

So futer me has an attitude. Great. Futer me told me to study abroad, as soon as I could I did. Best decision of my life. I went to so many cool places, I designed software for big companies all over the globe. I met a really cute Brazilian dude freshman year of college, and we dated for a while, but eventually had to split because long distance didn't work out.

Eventually I settled in the UK, I chose Brighton for its stunning view, and future me spoke highly of the people there. I had a small flat, three bedroom two bath. I had the master bedroom and the smallest bedroom was my office. Future me told me the get the three rooms, so I figured I'd eventually have a family. Here in Brighton is where my adventures really began.

I had been taking the day off of work, I had royalties and such from the software being used everywhere so I could afford it. There was a knock on the door, sighing I stand up, but my phone blings. Reading it, I'm confused.

Me: <Don't answer it.>

I set my phone aside, walking over to the door and looking through the peephole. There stool a little girl, 5 or 6, gentle curls in her black hair, dark freckles on her olive skin, but bright, fiery amber eyes. Another sigh, I open the door. Other young girls I hadn't noticed before flinch or squeak when I open the door

"Hello," I smile, a red headed girl burst into tears.

"Sorry," the woman with them sends an apologetic smile, picking the redhead up and placing her on her hip. "You're our first stop, so some of the girls are a little timid."

"Oh," I laugh, "are you guy's girl scouts?"

She let's out an airy chuckle, "no, we're the girls orphanage. We don't always have enough supplies so we're out taking donations and selling cookies."

"Buy our cookies!" The fiery eyed girl shouted.

"Kiana. Will you please buy our cookies?" The woman corrected.

"Will you buy our cookies bub?" She asked again, her tone slightly more gentle this time.

"Kiana," I get down to her level, "I would love to buy some cookies."

Her face breaks into a huge smile, she turns to the woman, "Miss Misha! Miss Misha! I did it!" Miss Misha smiles down at her, I stand up and smile too.

"Wait," she counts heads, "where's Anna?" A blonde points inside and Miss Misha sighs, looking at me. "I'm so sorry."

"No no," I wave it off, opening my door wider, "it's fine. I have some chocolate granola bars in my pantry if you girls want some," they smile and rush inside.

"What's your name?" Miss Misha asks me, walking in and I shut the door.

"I'm William. Will for short. You?"

She smiles, setting the girl on her hip down, "I'm Misha. Hence the name Miss Misha, you know?"

"Ah, yeah should have guessed that," I walk her through my flat, well, really only to the kitchen then to the office where I assumed Anna would be.

There we found a few of the girls, Anna included, listening to Kiana tell a story, pointing to the postcards pinned to the wall. When she noticed us, she stopped.

"You been all these places bub?" I nodd and her eyes light up, "tell me tell me tell me!"

I smile and grab a Coliseum postcard, starting to tell them about Rome. More girls came to listen, munching on chocolate bars, and Misha stood in the doorway listening.

After hours of stories and experiences, Misha called the girls, but I wasn't quiet finished.

"Misha," I stopped her on her way out the door, "I want in."

"You- what?"

"How do I get a job like yours. I want everything to do with these girls."

Misha smiled, knowing what I ment, "You can come into the orphanage tomorrow, I'll let you sign some paperwork so you can volunteer."

"That would be perfect!"

"You and I will be great friends, I can feel it!" She laughed, "thank you for the lovely stay, can't wait to see you tomorrow."

I couldn't wait, these girls sparked something inside me. Kiana especially, she had a fire in her eyes, passion in her heart. I wanted to be with them, to tell them more stories.

Tomorrow came slower than I wanted it to, but eventually I found myself in Misha's office, signing the last dotted line. Misha showed me around, there was a common room with couches and puffy chairs, this is where most of them would hang out. There was a small library, a playground outside, their rooms were nicely furnished, about 4 girls to a large room, two to a small one. Misha said if I wanted to tell stories and show them pictures the library or the common room was the best place.

My first day I walked into the common room, a book with lots of pictures in hand, "hey guys," Kiana looked up and smiled.

"Hey bub! Whatcha got there?"

"This," a hold the book out to her, "is a book with pictures of all the places I've been."

She took it with wide eyes, flipping through the pages, "you've seen the world, huh?"

I smiled and nod, "yeah, a lot of it."

"My Mom promised me the world, she said one day I could see it all."

"Oh," I looked over to Misha, who had a sad smile on her lips.

"She got really sick, told me to stay here and stay strong. At first I thought she'd come back, but I think she left. You know, a different kind of leave. She went to see the world a different way."

"Kiana..." I didn't know what to say, but I knew I wouldn't leave this girl alone. I would tell her about the world.

So for a year, I would bring in books and souvenirs and postcards about all the places I've been. Kiana was my favorite fo tell stories too, she would look at me with wonder each time. Whenever a girl was adopted, I'd give her a notebook and tell her to write about her adventures. I spent so much time there, Misha got tired of me. She gave me adoption papers, Kiana, and kicked me out with a smile.

From then on, the little ball of freckles and fire was mine. She lived in a apartment with me, I painted her bedroom walls blue and had a wall dedicated to our adventures.

From there I took her everywhere. We visited Kenya, Dubai, London, California, the Great Wall of China, the Pyramids in Egypt. She had her 10th birthday in Hawaii. She wanted to visit Guam for her 8th grade promotion.

I would buy her a pair of socks from each place we visited, so she could say she's walked the earth. She had sketchbooks filled with scenery from each sight we saw. Kiana was quite the artist.

We laughed and enjoyed life for years. I was the happiest I'd ever been, I thought nothing could bring me down from my top of the world.

After a hike in the Amazon Rain Forest, we went home for Christmas. Her gift was tickets to a concert in Seattle, Washington. But she got sick. My little girl, my Kiana, my joy, my ball of fire and freckles, fell to the worst possible fate.

Instead of going to Seattle, we spent her 17th birthday in the hospital. Instead of taking her for fashion week in New York, she had to go through another round of kemo.

I couldn't stand seeing my ball of energy lying in a bed, monitors and tubes attached to her frail, pale body. We were surrounded by friends she'd made in all sorts of countries. They all flew out to Brighton because she was loved that much.

She couldn't have know that her mother died of lung cancer, that it was genetic and Kiana would most likely get it too. But she didn't act suprise when we were told 6 months more at the most.

"Don't cry bub," I held her hand, I couldn't stop my tears. "You gave me the world, thank you."

My Kiana didn't make it to her 18th birthday. Cancer took her too soon. After her funeral, I walked into my apartment, down the hall and into the sky blue room my ball of freckles and fire used to love. Remembering all of the fun we had, all the light my daughter put into not only the world, but my life. I pulled put my phone, typing the first message in 11 years to my future self.

Me:<I answered the door. Best decision of my life>