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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1914530-In-Dedication-Of
by Zuzop
Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #1914530
Parents. We love them. This is a tale of the fundamental bond between daughter and father.
“In Dedication Of…”





“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now am found, was blind, but now I see.”

I finish the song with a warm smile cast at my young daughter.

Dawn, such a beautiful name, fitting for such a special girl. We had been trying without success to have children for so long, when suddenly, out of the blue, a miracle happened. I had wanted kids since I was a teenager, being the hopeless romantic and all that. And now I had one. Dawn Sundell, 4 years old.

“Dad can I have a last bedtime story”, she asks me with her begging eyes. That definitely complicates things.

I shrug and pick up a random book from her bedside table. Fine, I give in. A story about a witch who transforms a prince into a frog but at the end he manages to defeat the witch and get the princess. “Because there’s always a happy ending”, I say, clapping the book closed at the end and standing up. I tuck my daughter in to bed and switch off the light. “Good night, see you tomorrow Dad”, she beams one last time before snuggling into her covers.

I smile before leaving the bedroom and descending into the living room. I am greeted by a kiss from my wife, Claire, who apologizes for not being able to put Dawn to bed. I laugh it off and we sit down together to watch a movie. When I was younger I was so certain that love would inevitably fade with time. Only recently with Claire did I realize how erroneous that judgment was.

After the film, my wife goes upstairs to get ready for bed but I still need to do something for work. Something unimportant. I prepare a coffee before sitting down on the kitchen table to work.

I sigh at the sight of the large folder in front of me. I hate my job and often regret doing what I do, but I always remember that at least it pays well for my family.

Even the coffee doesn’t help. Soon I pass out, my head resting on the coffee cup, the fumes being absorbed through my nose.

I wake suddenly. I feel different. Nauseous. I look around. The first thing I notice is that I’m not in the same place as I was before. The general outline seems the same, but it is filled with various cardboard boxes. The fridge also seems to be completely new.

I feel around the room carefully. I remain calm, enjoying the mystery of my new predicament.

All the equipment seems new. And yet all the drawers are empty. It seems that the owner was in the act of moving out. I leave the kitchen and find myself in an almost identical hallway as my house. Similar really to my house, but still everything different. The few things still here seem newer. Cleaner.

I’m standing in the hallway when suddenly the door opens and a young lady enters. I detect a familiar face, but it seems very vague and unclear. The person just stares at me before dropping all her shopping bags. “What the hell”, she repeats slowly. She stumbles backwards. I guess she wasn’t expecting an intruder in her house. I’m as confused as ever. It’s definitely my house and yet everything is different. I am as confused as can be.

I try to calm her but she just keeps backing away from me, yelling the phrase now. She trips and falls backwards. The unconscious woman who faints at an unsightly sight. What a cliché.

I lay her down on the couch. So comfortable. I like the way this copycat house is.

I wet a towel and put it on the woman’s forehead.  There’s a thought itching away in my brain but I just can’t seem to pick it out. This woman is surely not over 35 years old, and just leaning over her, patting her head with the damp cloth, I recognize her. What an impossible thing, I think. I had known instinctively that this was in fact my house. Because this girl could be none other than my very own daughter. Her face had changed over time and her hair was now wavy brown. And yet she had grown a striking beauty I had rarely seen.

After about an hour my now grown up daughter comes to. She confirms my thoughts with a simple word “Dad”. I nod. She flings herself around my neck. She seems too happy to even say anything. After a while she lets loose and looks me in the eyes. She seems to explode with joy: “This is impossible. I can’t believe you’re visiting.”

I shrug. I have a biting sensation at the back of my head but I dismiss it without further thought.

“I haven’t seen you for so long”. This is the best thing that could happen.  I can’t believe it! And I am the person who believes in miracles!

After her initial shock, Dawn seems to be taking the situation very well. I’m still confused, so I remain silent. All the while one frightening thought runs through my subconscious, which I refuse to acknowledge. Dawn prepares a coffee for both of us.  She asks me how I got here. Unsure of what to say, I decide to lie and say “by car”. She looks at me disbelievingly, then after shooting me a quick complexion of disappointment, she drops the subject. She asks me how long I plan to stay. I have no answer.

I grab the newspaper lying half-open on the table. The 21st of April 2032. I was twenty years in the future. Now that’s an interesting prospect!

My daughter proposes a walk to show me the neighborhood. As if I’d never seen it before.

In this future, had I moved away?

The neighborhood looks completely different. Many of the older houses have been replaced with newer ones. It doesn’t look like a metropolis from a science fiction story, but it’s certainly futuristic.

I look at my watch. It says midnight, but seeing as it’s light here, I conclude that that’s not possibly accurate.

“What’s the time”, I ask?

My daughter frowns then answers: “midday”.

We decide to eat out for lunch, so that Dawn can show me around the city. I lie that it’s only for a tour. After all, as far as I know, she expects me to know this place already.

“The Greedy Burger”, a new fast food chain that opened up shop lately. After Mcdonalds went bankrupt. That’s where we decide to eat. The classic examples of burgers present in 2012 had not been forgotten, but there also seemed to be additions of new burgers with ingredients I hadn’t even heard of.

“Take the Slize Burger”, my daughter recommends. Whatever Slize Sauce is. I decide to listen to her; I may as well try out new things, being in a new place and all.

After lunch we decide to head to the local shopping mall. And no, I did not like the burger.

Computer screens are set up everywhere recommending various products and listing discounts. And the place is definitely cleaner, I conclude.

The most shocking thing that I realize is the fact that the people at the cash register have all but disappeared. They have been replaced with automatic cash registers. Economizing.

My daughter buys some things she swears she needs desperately for the house. I just tag along, fascinated of the things I’ve seen so far and eager to see even more.

A cream which prevents beard growth. You don’t need to shave as often. Very practical.

Even Cleenix tissues with tiny electromagnetic allowing them to adjust their shape and fit most comfortably into your hand. At least not everything is as state-of-the art in this era.

The shopping takes longer than one would have expected. At least some things never change.

I see the woman working the cash register and recognize her from 20 years ago. Or at least 20 years ago from this time. I used to talk to her when I bought groceries. Now she must be over 50.

“So I’m not in a complete parallel world,” I think, “the people are the same”.

The woman looks straight at me as I’m standing near the elevator waiting for Dawn.

She frowns then waves to me. I wave back. I don’t go over to her however. I’m too afraid of space-time consequences, paradoxes, or whatever they’re called.

Seeing as the shopping center isn’t far from home, we walk the distance. The neighbourhood still has the same touch as in 2012, but it’s changed. It’s so very clean.

I sit down on the couch while my daughter unpacks the shopping. Lots of old family photos.

I flip through the channels. Nothing good is on. Maybe not everything’s different after all.

“Are you staying the night”, Dawn asks me.

I ponder the question. Where would I go? How would I get back to my time?

“Yes”, I wonder after little thought. “Good”, she grins, “then we’ll spend some good quality time together like we never did!”

I laugh.

Three o’clock, what to do? We go to the local café to grab a quick coffee, then we take the skyrail in to the city centre.

A maximum speed train inspired from the Magnet Trains of old, only improved. The new public transport of the future. How impressing.

If I thought the city was crowded in 2012, I was shocked at the state of it now. So many people. It’s nearly impossible to get past in some areas. I guess the population really has increased. And all while remaining spotless clean. It seems almost unreal.

Zuzop Cinema, we’re going to see Star Wars 7.

“They finally decided to make it last year,” she states explanatively.

12 Euros for one ticket seems a bit rough I think, but I keep it to myself. As it turns out, these cinemas are improved as of the 2012 ones.

And everything’s in 3D without even needing to wear those annoying glasses. Much higher quality and a sound which makes you feel like you’re in the action. At least this price increase seems warranted.

I must confess I’m a die-hard fan, but even if that wasn’t the case, I still would have loved the movie above all else. So it seems that the quality of film wasn’t fading in time like the older generations claimed.

A walk through the local park where I can marvel at the beautiful spotless gardens. Beautiful. It seems the world hasn’t ended just yet then. There’s a graffiti sign hanging dangerously out of the ground. “Littering is strictly forbidden”. Written very dirtily, even for my time, it was hard to read the “forbidden” part.

“How do you keep everything so clean”, I ask, finally giving in to curiosity.

Dawn looks at me as if I had just slapped her, and then asked the dumbest, most obvious question out there.

“That’s our life” she responds calmly. 

We are distracted by a large green dog that elegantly walks past us. A green dog. Pretty amazing. Dawn shrugs. Genetic Manipulation.

Dinner at 9 p.m is spent at a nice Italian restaurant. “They don’t have spaghetti carbonara”, I complain. -“But at least they have Penne Cantando Belleza”. I don’t even bother to ask what that is. I take a Pizza Mushito. It has mushrooms on it. It turns out to be good food, considering the price. Dawn gives me a choice of what to do next: Go out and enjoy the night or go back home and have an early night. As tired as I feel, I somehow have the urge to see more of this world, especially the nightlife.

The evening starts at the local bar and yes alcohol is involved. What an odd situation to be in, drinking shots with your baby daughter. Not everyone can say they’ve been in a similar situation.

We are joined by some other girlfriends of Dawn’s. She’s only 26 and I’m even only 27, so she passes me off as a friend. I think the red-haired friend fancies me. She’s quite pretty, but the image of Claire remains strong in my mind.

“Club-rushing” is a proposition which is thrown around. An adventure, drinking one alcoholic beverage at each passing bar on the way to a club. How could something like this not have a happy ending?

I can’t describe the music that is playing at the disco, but if I had to give it a name, I’d call it Weird –Evolved-Proto-Electro-Thingy. So much does change in 21 years.

At 11:54 I start to feel sick. My head spinning, I rush off to find a restroom. I enter into the room I think to be the toilet but which actually ends up to be a storage chamber. I try to open the door again to find the real toilet but it won’t budge. I pull and push but the door won’t open. I hammer on the door but know there’s nobody who will hear. I pull out my cellphone, but realize I don’t have any valuable numbers anymore anyway. Suddenly I feel a slight breeze on my neck. I spin around and am staring at a white light projecting itself from the wall adjacent from me.

A coffee mug; the one that I had been drinking when I woke up in the future falls to the ground and smashes as the light blinks out of existence. -



Dawn looks at her watch. “It’s been 12 minutes since he left”, she thinks.

She shifts over to the restrooms to wait for her father, but after 30 minutes and no activity of him, she starts to worry. I don’t won’t to lose him again, is the only thought going through her brain as she pushes through the dancing crowds of people standing in the club.

The fact that “Piggy-Sizz-Sizz”, the latest hit is currently playing doesn’t make it easier for the troubled girl.

She can’t find him anywhere. She decides to check the rooms at the back of the club.

One door is locked, the old handicapped toilet door is also locked which leaves the only remaining room the storage chamber. If it isn’t locked as well.

At this point, Dawn’s even hoping that her father had found some girl and was cheating on his wife. At least that would mean he’d still be present.

She opens the door. Nothing at all. She’s about to leave again when suddenly she pauses. Smashed shards of porcelain lay scattered on the floor. A broken mug amongst a clean room that could be nothing but immaculate.

Dawn falls to her knees. It was him. It could only have been him. He must have disappeared from this world. She was crying now. Yes, he was gone.



Wednesday, 12th October, exactly 21 years from that point, Serge, who had been returned to his correct time after having overslept, hurries out the front door. His dreams had been sweet but now he was very late for work.

He slammed the door, threw his briefcase over his shoulder on to the back seat and started the engine.

He speeds out of the driveway and speeds out of the village in direction of the city.

An accident. One dead, one orphan. Bad weather conditions coupled with Serge’s careless and hurried driving.

At that moment Dawn, so very far away in her baby cot cried, for no apparent reason. Her mother couldn’t comfort her no matter what she tried.

That day was a sad day.

Ever since that day, Dawn wished every night for just one last chance to see her lost father. Little did she know that 21 years on, for one simple day, she would have exactly that one wish granted.

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