Contelysia

"It's here." My sister swung the door open, panting. "I'm not in a mood for pranks, Maggie." I ignored her, keeping my head buried in my book. "Not a prank," she said, waving an envelope in her hand.  "What?!"  I ran after her as she went downstairs to the living room. She thumped down on the sofa and proceeded to open up the letter. "I'm the elder one. I have to open it." My mind overflowed with curiosity, and I tore open the envelope.  "Honey, Let your sister read the letter, too... " My mother knew me a little too well. I hesitantly held the letter between us. My darlings. If you're reading this, I've too left your lives. The terrible disease took me away, but believe me, I am happy. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you. You know, I had no choice. I tried my best to hold on, to live on, but what will be, will be. I don't know how long after this letter will reach you. I hope it reached you soon. T...

"Eeesh. What is that?" A girl muttered under her breath. "Ugh. Look at those things in the middle. Look like little eyes in little sections," she continued whispering near her friend's ear. "This, children, is called a tomato," The museum guide said.  "Ugh. To-mah-toe. What a name." The same girl riled. Okay, turns out to-mah-toe caught on, to-mae-toe lost.  "A few centuries ago, this was one of the last vegetables that survived." The museum guide continued. "A few centuries ago?!" I, accidentally, yelled. I am sure everyone in the enormous hall was staring at me. Yes, I was trying to travel in time. But, no, I didn't really expect to actually travel in time.  "Yes, ma'am. A few centuries  ago," a man dressed like security personnel came up in front of me. Seeing that I was standing dangerously close to an exhibition, and I seemed delirious to start with, he grabbed my arm and 'escorted' me out o...

"It's a secret. I haven't told anyone about you, I promise," I told a girl who was kneeling beside my death bed. Her eyes were still deep blue and her hair was still dark brown. Over the years, time withered me away, but she stayed just like that. Just like the girl I met 75 years ago when I was 15. When she was 15. "You need to let me go," I told her, as she held my hand and sobbed. I never knew what kept her young. Was she immortal, or an alien? All I know is she told me to never tell anyone about her. Time passed, she became my guardian. Telling me things I couldn't have noticed, guiding me through life. She made me who I am. She taught me to live life, not just survive it. She was always my true friend, a friend no one could have. I breathed heavily; I had known for days that my time was coming to an end. A precedented end that we knew about. But the girl kept her head down, tears flowing down her cheeks.  "An old woman like me ought to go some ...