The Guy from the Past

Marcus was deep-cleaning his dormitory room after the long break he had spent at his grandmother’s house. Before he left, she had handed him a heavy wooden box; keepsakes left behind by his grandfather.

As he swept through the dusty corners of the room, his eyes kept straying to the box sitting untouched on his desk. He hadn’t opened it yet. Part of him didn’t want to. He had been fiercely close to his grandfather; after his parents died, the old man had been his anchor. When his grandfather passed away at age fifteen, the world had tilted off its axis. His grandmother loved him in her own quiet way, but it had never been quite the same.

Marcus dropped his broom, walked over to the bed, and lay flat on his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. The silence in the room felt suffocating.

Abruptly, he sat up, exhaled a shaky breath, and pulled the box toward him.

Inside lay the quiet artifacts of a life well-lived: letters, packets of old photos, and the stone collection his grandfather had spent decades curating. Resting right on top was his grandfather’s favorite vintage wristwatch, alongside every clumsy handmade card and childhood gift Marcus had ever given him.

His eyes blurred with hot tears as his fingers brushed over the familiar handwriting of a birthday card from when he was eight. Then, tucked beneath a layer of tissue paper, he found a folded note attached to a heavy silver chain.

Unfolding the crisp parchment, he read the bold, steady script:

"My dear Marcus, I know you're 22 right now, the exact same age when your great-grandfather left this for me. I told your grandmother to give you this when you finally turned 22. Treasure it as gold and keep it safe."

Marcus's breath hitched. He reached down and lifted the necklace. The chain was heavy, cool silver, and the pendant was an intricate oval casing of polished metal cradling a single, mesmerizing emerald at its center. It didn’t just catch the light; it seemed to pulse with a deep, inner glow, shining differently than any gem he had ever seen.

With trembling hands, he fastened the silver chain around his neck.

The moment the metal settled against his skin, the air shifted. A violent wave of dizziness hit him, the room spinning violently before snapping back into place with a sharp, echoing ring in his ears.

Marcus blinked hard and looked around. He was still in his dormitory room, but everything was wrong. The furniture layout was slightly different, the air smelled entirely foreign, and the room was an absolute disaster. He had just spent three hours cleaning every inch of it, yet clothes were strewn everywhere.

He scrambled off the bed, his heart hammering against his ribs. None of this was his. The bedsheets and curtains weren’t the plain brown ones he had bought; they were a vibrant, mismatched orange. The clothes scattered across the floor weren't his either they were girls' clothes, styled in a fashion completely alien to the current era in his country.

Before he could process the sheer impossibility of what he was seeing, the sharp click of a bathroom door unlocking made him freeze.

The sound of running water cut off, followed by a female voice humming a tune. A second later, the bathroom door swung open.

Tina stepped out into the room wearing loose trousers and a casual shirt, a towel wrapped securely around her wet hair, and a bright green face mask slathered across her skin.

Marcus stumbled backward, his voice cracking in sheer panic. "What are you doing here?!"

Tina froze mid-step, ripped the towel higher, and let out a piercing, blood-curdling scream. "What are you doing here?!"

"This is my dormitory," Marcus shot back, his voice rising in panic.

"No, it's my dorm," Tina protested fiercely, pointing a green-masked finger at him. "Look around, I live here!"

"You must be a thief," Marcus said, gasping as he stared at the strange, futuristic clothes littering the floor.

"FR?" Tina said, blinking in utter disbelief behind her skincare mask.

"What?" Marcus said, completely lost.

He had no idea he had just traveled a century ahead into the future, landing in the exact same dormitory room he knew from 1926. The pendant his grandfather had left him deliberately keeping its true nature a mystery so Marcus would discover it himself had hurled him straight through time.

"I'm going to tell the Warden," Marcus declared, turning on his heel.

"You can't go out now!" Tina protested, lunging forward to block his path. "If anyone sees a guy walking out of my room at this hour, they'll kill me and I could be expelled!"

"Not my problem," Marcus snapped, reaching for the doorknob.

Before his fingers could wrap around it, Tina grabbed his arm to yank him back. Her foot caught on the pile of clothes scattered across the slick floor, and she slipped, tumbling backward with a sharp gasp. Marcus lost his footing right along with her, crashing down so that he landed squarely on top of her, the sudden weight knocking the breath out of both of them in the cramped, chaotic room.

They stared at each other for a frozen heartbeat before Tina shoved Marcus away, scrambling back with wide eyes.

"Okay, I think we should talk about this misunderstanding, since none of us is a thief" Marcus said, rubbing the back of his neck. His face was burning red; he had never been around girls all his life, and the sheer disorientation of his surroundings was making his head spin.

"Is this the girls' dorm side?" he asked, his voice tight.

Tina, still clutching her towel and glaring at him through her green face mask, snapped, "Yes, it is."

"So—" Marcus stopped short. He spun around and threw open the window, staring out at the streets below. Towering glass-and-steel skyscrapers pierced the sky, and sleek, silent vehicles hummed along multi-lane roads. It was nothing like the London he knew; a city of gas lamps, horse-drawn carriages, and the occasional sputtering steam car.

"Where am I?" he asked, turning back to Tina with panic in his eyes.

"London," she replied skeptically.

"This isn't London! What are these huge buildings and these fancy things that have wheels like carriages, but aren't carriages? What is all of this?"

"Bro, are you serious?" Tina said, crossing her arms in disbelief.

"Who's the King of London? Who is ruling?"

"King Charles III," Tina responded easily.

Marcus recoiled. "No, it's King George V."

"King George V? Huh? Bro, he died back in 1936."

"Wait—" Marcus said, his voice cracking with rising panic. "It's 1926."

"Bro, what kind of game are you playing? It's clearly 2026, dude, look at the date!" She shoved her smartphone toward his face, tapping the screen to highlight the digital calendar.

Marcus stared at the glowing rectangle in absolute bewilderment. "Now what is this?"

"How is it possible you've never seen a phone before—" Tina stopped dead. Her eyes widened as she looked from his old-fashioned clothing to the terrified confusion on his face. "Don't tell me you're actually from the past? 1926? And this was your dorm room back then, and somehow you time-traveled?!"

Marcus slowly sank down onto the edge of the bed, the reality crashing over him like a tidal wave. "Did I?"