Approximately one month ago Deaton town was a chaotic slop in transition. Injustice was law so rebellion became duty. Poverty-a dense coil of titanium weighing decent citizens down through drugs, violence, and corruption. These world renowned diseases didn't just smolder passing along, they raged at a halt, determined to brand there universal stamp on a already beaten community. However, that was a month ago before the township elected Lizzie Geraldine for Mayor. She was a politician's politician and promised the people everything but failure. Lizzie Geraldine the ambitious risk taker and challenge seeker thriving only on economical Impurities. 'In just thirty days I've weeded out the weak, the logo's of sleaze'�'�.the alley bums'�the addicts'�.the intrusive'�the, the inarticulate running this unhinged town sterile.

This is a doctrine of monumental proportion. A most impressive landmark in evolution. Sadly enough I am replenished by cordial praises and, sprinkles of trivial gratitude. Fruitless'� simply fruitless.'� From Mayor Geraldine's office seat she glowered at her own desk with disapproving sighs. Her disposition, unconventional. 'Collect the masses. Gain the power.'� Lizzie spurted, understanding what became necessary. Mayor Geraldine scooted forward then, flipped up the latches to a brief case at her desktop's edge incasing five glass syringes-five needles that sculpted her. The concrete instruments to her fabricated success. These five needles lying in this brief case possessed a bizarre substance, a substance that contained abilities to construct legacies and alter past errors. 'Today mayor of an inferior town. Tomorrow, the first female president of liberal states.'� Lizzie mumbled galvanized. 'Take me back twenty six years ago to Mower!'� She then injected her scrawny physic with one of the four needles that remained full. Relinquished, she frizzled into a damp contaminated past tore right out the impaired diary of her broken childhood. The location at past-present was Mower street, a block that Lizzie had lived for three-fourths of her life. Mower street at current was a depleted clump, refurbished with small time oppressors. Hoodlums had seized abandon homes molding them into crack houses and gang activity rose to the pinnacle. In such turmoil many teens succumbed to the pressure, ripped by hollow fantasies and governed rat traps. But sixteen year old Lizzie Geraldine had reservations for a different kind of hunger. Naturally ahead of her classmates mentally she warped through school dodging the pitfalls of her damned society. Added onto her regiment the neighborhood library where she studied politics countless hours. 'I see your reading geometry?'� a voice curiously indicated.

Sixteen year old Lizzie slammed her book closed like a wrestler slams his opponent then cut her eyes up egotistic. She planted eyes on a forty two year old woman that looked like she'd suffered from malnutrition. 'It's political stuff that someone like your kind wouldn't care for! What do I owe to the privilege of this rude interruption anyway?'�
'Just a moment's time of yours is all.'�
Smart as Lizzie appeared at sixteen, she didn't realize she had been looking at an aged version of herself. But then again, she wouldn't have cared one way or another. Lizzie Geraldine pulled out a chair and slowly sat staring at her younger self reinforced by amazement.
Quietness bubbled. 'Well!'�
'Well what?'�
'Do you have something to address are you going to just sit there and stare at me.'� young Lizzie asked.
The older Lizzie delightfully smirked, slamming the brief case she had on top of her younger selves study work. 'I don't get it. What's in the silly-looking brief case!'� young Lizzie humorously squabbled.
'Misjudging my intentions young child?'�
'No! Inquisitive.'�
Lizzie hovered her wrinkled hands tightly across the brief case and added. 'It's my gift to you'� a doorway to inexhaustible realities.'� Young Lizzie's reaction delayed. 'Oh brother what a joke.'�
'Listen to me my bullheaded child because I don't had long.'� 'Anything you every yearned to do, yearned to be or wanted to get rid of rest in the pit of this brief case. Why swamp your life with bulky books and consume your precious youth with stressful days ironically twined with the success you crave? Now in this brief case is five needles, two are empty. I used one needle to became mayor and the other needle to journey here. What's left are three needles that you can inject into your body changing your life and the world for the better.'�
Young Lizzie snatched the brief case with anger-flooded eyes and flung it into the library wall. 'I don't need no stinking brief case with any crummy needles trying to predict my destiny or a old bony mayor trying to persuade me. You see anything that comes fast is not worth having and if I can't accomplish success on my own then I don't want it at all. One day I'm going to be mayor not a fake one like you though. Huh who knows maybe even the first female president then I'll rid the world of your kind.'� The older Lizzie was displeased. 'You'll be sorry.'�
'I'm already sorry for letting you sit down at my table now beat it.'� A pissed off young Lizzie shot up out her seat but, before she could insult her older self further they both disappeared.

Fed up the train conductor alerted the police as promised. One hand firmly placed on there nickel-plated guns the two policeman walked to the last seat, of the last car towards Lizzie Geraldine. 'Excuse me ma'am Deaton town is the last stop this train makes. Every bodies gone which means you had to leave too.'� 'Phew, she stinks!'� the other cop replied, covering his nose with his forearm for relief.
'Ma'am?'�
'Its useless officer, her brain is fried,'� the train conductor clarified. The officers jerked Lizzie Geraldine up out of her glorified bliss and pulled five needles out her left pocket. Three of them was still filled with heroin.
'Looks like we have another junkie headed to jail.'� one of the policeman disappointedly expressed.
'You know something officers. I've been running this train route for a little over ten years now and I have seen it all. The weak'�the logo's of sleaze'�'�the alley bums'�the addicts'�the intrusive'�'�'�the, the inarticulate running this unhinged town sterile. They exit reality through drugs, violence and corruption desperately trying to alter there past errors. But even inside the maze of there baffling failures escape is outwitted!'�

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