The Journal of Charles B. Morton by Juniper Lee (series like harry potter .TXT) 📕

June 20 2013 & June 20 1837

The past was so much simpler than the present seems to be, and much more inviting. The past , though, is now my new present. The Victorian Era, which is my new reality, called to me, pulling me gently until I was no longer a citizen of the Twenty-First Century.
No, I'm not insane. My words are truth, a truth that no one will ever know, for I have invented time travel. AS a talented college student, I used my intelligence to escape from my old outcast life into the past. Now, I shall live in peaceful happiness in the simple elegance of the Victorian era, where nothing from my past (the future) can touch me.


June 20 1837

Of course, no good can linger long in my life. My 'peaceful happiness' seems to have escaped my grasp, that is, if it ever was within my reach.
In my state of naive hope for a new life, I've traded one life of loneliness for another. You see, because I can not in any way alter the future for fear of my life disappearing, I can interact with no one and nothing.
I have found an abandoned building where I can spend the rest of my life alone. I do not have the will power to kill myself, so unless I catch a deadly disease, I will be here for about 60 more years.


June 22 1837

There is nothing I can do in this god-forsaken era while alone, except what I do best. I was born an inventor, and what else can you do in solitude but re-create, invent, think, and learn the way you always have?
Since there is not much technology to work with, I will have to start from scratch. In order to progress, I first need to go back to the beginning, re-creating every necessary invention from the Twentieth and Twenty-First Century.
I can not alter the future, but I need more materials in order to create, so I will have to search and, at times, steal. I'll have to spread my thievery thin so I don't change much. Mostly, I will scavenge in in trashes and abandoned places until I get what need, but it will probably take weeks or even months to come up with enough.
Tonight, I begin my search. All I have is an extra set of clothes, non-perishable food, and a small back pack. They are disguised well enough to blend with normal Victorian items, but I can only go out at night anyway, so I'm not worried about being seen.


June 25 1837

As I trek through the abandoned parts of this town, I have nothing to do but plan, think, and worry.
I plan my inventions carefully, making modifications on blueprints in my mind that I can then go back and review later. (My mind works much like a computer in the ways of memory and inventions.) The more I think, the more I realize that I will have to improvise for many things because of the era I now live in. Not only is there no electricity, but many metals are either undiscovered or unavailable and the only source of power I have to work with is steam. Although this does put a damper on my initial plans, I am sure I will be able to work efficiently once I build several miniaturized steam engines.
I think constantly, because all I have is my own thoughts to keep me company. I quite often find my thoughts wandering to the possible repercussions of my time travel. In the future, I might have been able to cope quite nicely. I could have sold my time travel machine for an exorbitant amount of money and become famous. Then again, I would have not felt happy. Besides, there is no point in wondering now, because I can not go back. Before I left, I made sure the machine and all plans for it would be destroyed after I safely arrived. The explosion would make everyone believe I died in a lab accident. When I begin to doubt my decision, I always tell myself that no matter where I am, I will never be paid attention to anyway.
I worry constantly, that I will endanger my life by my actions here. I haven't decided how I feel about time travel yet. Do the past and future coexist? Was my time travel planned, somehow unaffecting life in any way? Will I slowly fade away or disappear because I've broken up my great grandparents (just like the movies from my real era)? Or is life on autocorrect, where no matter what, the same things will continue to happen no matter what I do?


June 27 1837

I sit writing in the pounding rain, but I am as happy as I can possibly be at the moment. Though the weather is gloomy and I am running low on fresh water and provisions, I am ecstatic. I have discovered a place to call home and to begin my work in.
On the far east side of this town, which I still don't know thew name of, I stumbled upon a factory that must have suddenly closed down. It is not huge, but big enough, and is full of supplies and tools of all sorts. The main workroom looks as if a hurricane blew through. Papers, work gloves, and goggles lay scattered on the floor, while the doors to the huge boilers hang open. A huge advantage is a fully operational, but giant, steam engine.
Also, while looking around, I discovered a small office where someone must have used to live. There is a desk with paper, charcoal, and ink quills for writing and sketching. In the corner there is a partially worn bed, and a dresser full of clothes to the side. This is the perfect set up for me. There is no toilet or shower, though there is running water at a single sink. Before I begin work, I'll need to at least set up and incinerator toilet, or do some simple plumbing (which I'm not particularly practiced at).
My next steps are to get set up before I officially begin to build. Work first and then play, or actually, work first, and then more work.


July 1 1837

Text: Juniper Lee
Publication Date: 03-13-2012

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