*Beep-Beep* ........ *Beep-Beep*...

In a dimly lit room, illuminated by the early morning rays of sunlight, a young boy slumbered away in dreamland. The beeping alarm clock displaying 6:30 AM caused a small frown to appear on the child's face as he turned away from the source of disturbance.

*Be-Be-Beep* ... *Be-Be-Beep*....

I tossed and turned as I began to wonder why my drunk self had set an alarm since I planned to sleep in as long as possible today.

Turning towards the source of my misery, I reached out to silence it, when I was taken aback by the sensation of a blocky and plasticky object instead of the cool glass of my smartphone.

Still sleepy and fuzzy headed, I attempted to investigate the cause of disturbance before realising I was touching an older version of a digital alarm clock.

Sitting up in confusion, now having woken up, I silenced the alarm and looked around as my eyes tried to adjust to the dimly lit room.

'Where am I?! Did I sleep in a stranger's house last night??!!'

Looking around the room in panic, I felt a growing sense of familiarity as I tried to recall last night's events.

'I parted ways with Mike and took the tube on my way back as usual. While walking to my apartment, I spotted a kid on the road about to be hit-'

"How am I alive and unharmed??!!" I exclaimed as I finally recalled my foolishly selfless actions last night before recognising that I had just heard a child's preteen voice instead of my own.

My eyes widened in horror as I finally looked at my cute little hands and short legs, concluding that I was currently in a child's body.

Biting down on an almost frenzied scream, I flung myself off of the bed and stumbled towards the old fashioned dresser to get a grasp on my present situation.

"WHAT THE F**K???!!!" I screamed out loud as I struggled to comprehend the reflection staring back at me. I watched as my mirror self blinked and pinched itself, further destroying any doubts in my mind about my eyes playing tricks on me, cementing a mind boggling fact in my head, 'I'm in my younger self's body? Did I actually end up dead? Is this the afterlife?'

Looking around to examine the room again, I belatedly discovered the reason for my growing sense of Deja Vu. This was an exact replica of my childhood room growing up.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

'Wow, this is even more detailed than my own memories'

Momentarily immersed in nostalgia, I examined the space filled with faded memories, posters of Arsenal Legends, the Gunners' memorabilia and cartoon posters adorned the walls.

'Guess being a lifelong Arsenal fan was decided at the moment of my birth. My parents sure did everything in their power to make sure I'd end up a Gooner'

The action figures and my prized hot wheels collection populating the top shelves of my bookshelf neighbouring my first P.C brought back memories of whining for new toys, bringing a wistful smile to my lips.

I made my way towards the now silent alarm and switched it to view the date. To my surprise, it read 14.06.2002, the day I turned 10.

'Why then? Was 2002 a particularly impactful year?'

Attempting to investigate the reason for this strange choice of time period, I spotted a football laying underneath the window sill.

'Just what my overworked mind needs to calm down'

I performed a quick shuffle of my feet, dragging the ball back with my left foot onto my right to kick it up into my arms.

Surprised at the apparent size of the ball in proportion to my hands and height, I proceeded to perform some lifting practice to help distract my chaotic mind.

*Tup - tup*

*Tup - tu-tup*

.

.

*Knock - knock*

A knock broke me away from the much needed therapeutic time as I glanced at the door in surprise. I snickered to myself as an absurd idea occured to me,

'Do I get my own butler in the afterlife?'

"Time to wake up, Nikhil! You'll be late for school!"

The voice that followed the knock left me frozen on spot, my mind reeling at the possibility of meeting my beloved Pa, whom I had lost 7 years ago.

Perhaps confused by a lack of a response, my dad carefully opened the door and gingerly stepped into the room only to find me staring at him wide-eyed.

I couldn't think. I couldn't blink. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. My body was rooted on spot as I experienced a torrent of emotions at facing a younger version of my Pa.

Taking my wide-eyed silence with a ball at my feet as an admission of guilt, my dad adopted a stern frown as he readied himself to give me a talk.

"Care to explain to me why you haven't started getting ready for school, instead playing with your football? Being the birthday boy doesn't excuse you from school, son"

As I finally found myself regaining control over my body, I flung myself at him, hugging him with all my might. I applied as much force as my small body could muster, afraid I'd lose him again. Afraid he'd disappear.

'He smells the same', was my only thought.

Clearly taken aback at my adverse actions, my dad continued to scold me in a strict voice underlined with a hint of affection threatening to spill out.

"You're not getting out of this scott free by hugging me, young man. Better......"

I couldn't concentrate on listening to him as I took in the sensation of being able to touch my Pa again, feeling his warmth and scent.

My mind was overloaded with a million thoughts, my chest boiling with a thousand words I wished I could say to him after he passed away.

My throat, choked up with everything I wanted to say but couldn't, failed to contain the ensuing sob which quickly turned into full-blown wailing.

Possibly bewildered by my actions and feeling perturbed, my dad attempted to gently separate me from himself.

Feeling warm hands on my shoulder gently trying to push me away, I mustered every ounce of strength to hold on.

I relaxed a fraction as I felt the force trying to seperate us disappear, instead feeling a warm sensation on top of head.

Stroking my head tenderly, my dad asked me in a soft but worried voice,

"Did our little champ have a nightmare?"

I wailed harder as I heard his voice. I recalled all the years after my dad's passing.

"Yes. A nightmare. A very scary and a very long one" was all I could muster in a hoarse voice as I happened upon an unbelievable conclusion, nay, wish,

'Did I travel back in time?'

///Author's Notes:

Arsenal: A top flight club based in London, with a very extensive history. Also called the royal club because of the late Queen's fondness for the club, it's nickname is the Gunners'.

Gooner: what Arsenal fans call themselves.

Lifting: As the name suggests, the practice to keep off the ground as long as possible. Mostly done by feet.

Pa: Endearing way of calling dad in Indian culture