February 17, 2293
I don't know if you'll get my letter, but it helps me to write this down.
Okay, here goes nothing.
I'm in big trouble.
Remember how I was helping Professor G. on his invention last summer? Well, he finished it and on January 12th he called me and asked me to go see it. The "material transporter," as he called it, is supposed to be a time machine. I didn't think it would work.
He told me to go in and look around. I had just stepped inside when suddenly there was a flash of reddish light and the machine disappeared.
I looked around. I was in a courtyard, surrounded by a building about ten stories hight. Next to me, there was a building that said Main Computer Base.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around. A boy flashed a badge at me and asked to see my permit. When I asked what he was talking about, he explained that you have to have a permit to time travel. I realized that I was probably in trouble.
The boy arrested me.
Yep, I'm in trouble.
I couldn't believe it! I was arrested for being mixed up in a screwed-up teacher's screwed-up experiment!
The room I'm in is comfortable, more of a hospital room than a jail cell. It's nice because I'll probably be here for at least five years.
I'll be here for five years because this generation has no disease. The person in charge wants me to stay here for five years to get rid of any diseases I might carry. The only people I'll see are workers who have been immunized against everything.
Tell my mom "Hi!" I miss you! I'll write again soon. Bye!
(The teacher's comments: "How can you