I could not feel my face.

Because my face was planted in the snow when I awoke to my senses.

I groaned as I brought myself up to my knees, staring at the imprint I gave to the layers of snow that covered the ground. I lifted my head up and gazed around my surroundings.

I immediately knew where I was: back at the area where the cabin of my real parents was located.

How did I get over here? I thought to myself as I gradually got up to my feet. The only thing that I could do was walk to the cabin; the state of it will show me which time I'm in: either past, present, or maybe even future!

As I trudged through the snow, I realized what I was wearing: a puffy, dark brown coat with layers of clothing underneath it, jeans, black winter books, and a brown ushanka-hat along with gloves. I was thankful that I had these clothes on since the scenery seemed pretty cold. But the odd thing was that I couldn't feel the cold, it was like as if I was numb. Maybe that's because of the cold itself.

While lumbering along, there were gusts of wind breezing past me. I clutched my coat tightly against me so that I would not lose the warmth I believed I had inside me. Once again, I couldn't feel anything, so I wouldn't know.

I then noticed the small, wooden cabin standing on the horizon. I gasped with my eyes widening with joy. Yes!

With all my energy I began to jog toward it; I didn't get too far when I tripped on air and fell back onto the snow.

With determination, I got up again and took on the same pace, which resulted in the same thing. Why can't I run without falling? I thought to myself angrily.

I hopped to my feet and jogged once again with my clothes slowing me down. Suddenly, my right foot that was in front of my left foot didn't move, causing me to lose balance and hit the snow for the third time with a grinding sound.

I sat up and slammed my hands against the snow in fury with a frown; bits of cold ice spewed in all directions due to the force. Fine, I'll go slowly...

I rose onto my feet and began strolling warily toward the cabin, looking around the scenery: the gray, dark skies, no animals, no trees--just the snow, the cabin, and me.

I finally arrived to the closed doorway of the cabin, breathing hard since it's not easy walking for about a mile in snow, wearing heavy clothing. I stared at the wooden door that had slits of space in between the wooden planks that made it up. Should I go in or should I eavesdrop? I decided to first eavesdrop then open the door if what I heard was fine.

So with a quickening heartbeat, I lowered myself to my knees and leaned to my left toward the door. I was close enough to hear what was going on on the other side. I didn't hear any voices like last time, but I certainly heard footsteps and the clanking of porcelain dishes. Okay, so there are people in the house...so should I go in or--?

My thoughts were immediately cut off my footsteps echoing closer to me. I jumped onto my feet and stumbled backwards so that I wouldn't get taken out by the door.

Sure enough, the door opened and a man with blond hair, blue eyes and sharp facial features with a growing beard came sauntering out. He was wearing a long white-sleeve shirt with dirt and grease marks along with jeans; he had no hat, no gloves, nor no shoes.

Aren't you cold? I thought, like as if I was talking to the man mentally.

But who is this man? Since this is the cabin of my real parents, then that would only make one thing true: this man was my father...my actual father.

I held my breath for a moment while staring at him, not knowing what to do. My actual father...is right next to me...this is my real dad... Now I know how he looks like...

My father first looked out in the dreary scenery then turn his head at my direction, landing his eyes on me.

He sees me, was all I thought at that moment.

"Кто ты?" he asked me in a gruff tone, shoving his hands into his pockets; he had a suspicious look with narrowing eyes and furrowed eyebrows. Who are you?

How should I tell him this...? "Я--" I started out, stumbling with my next words, "--я твой сын..." I'm-- I am...your son... I braced myself for his response.

"Как вы могли бы быть моим сыном? Он просто ребенок и мы дали его прочь уже," he told me calmly with confusion. How could you be my son? He's just a baby and we just gave him away last night.

"Я из будущего," I responded, assuming that I was correct since how else could I be here? I'm from the future. I time-travelled without even knowing!

His eyebrows rose quickly "От будущего?" From the future?

"Да." Yeah. I nodded my head. "Я думаю, я..." I guess I... I letted out a few chuckles as I gazed to my right; I then looked back at him. "...путешествовал во времени." ...time-travelled.

"Из того, что год вы пришли?" Which year did you come from? He crossed his arms.

"2043... Семнадцать лет спустя..." ...seventeen years from now...

"Ну," he gave me a growing smile, "я рад, что вы выжить семнадцать лет!" Well, I'm glad to know that you are still alive seventeen years later! He then went up to me and gave me a huge hug.

I was surprised at first, but then I decided to take it in, since when would I be able to hug my dead father like this? I laid my head on his shoulder while staring out into the scenery that was in front of me, which was were I came from when I first awoke here. But how did I get here? Where was I last time? What was going on that led me here?

"Alek," I heard a familiar voice telling me.

I snapped my eyes toward the right to see who was calling me.

Standing in my vision is that girl, that girl who... I rattled my mind to think of where I saw her from; I did remember her, I just didn't know where from. She was wearing a red coat with a tan, Russian fur hat, a tan, fur muff, white jeans and black boots; she had her hair down, draping over her shoulders.

"Alek," she called to me again, "you need to come back."

"Come back?" I muttered. "Where?"

"Back to reality." She maintained a grave look upon her face.

"But this is reality," I snapped at her.

"No, this is your imagination-- You're making all of this up; it's just like a dream."

I turned to look at the side of my father; he was still hugging me. I turned back to face her. "No, but this is real! It's so real!"

She shook her head. "No, it's not real. You have to come back now, you can wake up now."

A strange feeling began swirling inside me. "Wake up now? But I am awake!"

"No you're not," she told me sternly. "You might think you are, but you're not. Not in reality you are." She began walking up to me slowly.

"So what do you want me to do then?" I spat at her with a frown and lowered eyebrows.

She stood in front of me with her face inches close me. Then she said softly, "Wake up."