It was an ordinary afternoon. Cold coffee, ignored notifications, and that stubborn cloud hanging in the sky. On my way home, something metallic gleaming on the sidewalk caught my eye. A USB drive. Black. Scratched. And taped onto it, a handwritten label: “Your Life”. I found it funny. I found it poetic. I found it dangerous. I took it with me.

I waited until nightfall. I turned on the computer like someone lighting a candle in a dark room. The only folder on the device was called “Reverberations”. Inside, dozens of videos titled with future dates. The first: “June 15, 2031 – You cry on the rooftop”. I clicked.

The video showed me, eight years older, sitting on a rooftop I haven’t even built yet. I was crying in silence, holding a photo of someone I didn’t recognize. A name was whispered.

I watched them all. Each video revealed a fragment of a life I didn’t remember living - but that clearly remembered me. Friends I hadn’t met yet. Places I’d never visited, where my laughter echoed off the walls. An accident. A discovery. A reconciliation with someone I swore I’d never see again. A song. The death of my last dog. A letter to myself.

I unplugged the USB drive when I realized: it wasn’t a prediction. It was a choice.

The next morning, the drive was gone. The computer had no trace of it either. But I remembered. And more importantly, I felt it.

Life moved on. But now, each step carried a sweet suspicion - that maybe, just maybe, I had already lived it all once before… and had been given a second chance.

I found the USB in a dusty corner of the café, right next to someone’s half eaten doughnut. Naturally, I took it because curiosity kills time faster than cats.

Plugged it in. Folder titled “YOUR LIFE.” Opened it.
Boom.

Subfolders:

• Crushes That Will Never Text Back
• Decisions Made While Hungry
• Dramas You Started & Forgot
• Songs You Claimed You Wrote But Didn’t
  There was even a video titled “You Trying to Dance in Public." I screamed. Quietly.

I haven’t slept well since. My laptop keeps buzzing. The toaster winked at me this morning. I think… I unlocked something I shouldn’t have. But hey, at least I finally know why my life feels like a sitcom.

It was a cold, lonely morning. I sat quietly thinking about how I got into the mess of revealing one important secret to my late father's enemy. How stupid I was thinking he was truly in love with me. Well, now I need a way out.

Going through the dusty pile of file in daddy's room, a place I haven't stepped into in years. I went through the document, and something dropped, an old rusty looking USB with a tag clearly written "your life"

I rushed to the sitting room and plugged into my system. My heartbeat sounded so loud, and I suddenly started sweating even in the cold morning. Suddenly, it opened, and I saw myself happy in jubilation as I won the court case against my father's enemies who tried to take over his business.

I clicked again and found myself crying with a pregnancy test result showing positive. How is this possible since we only made out once. Father would surely be disappointed in me. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and it was gone.

At least, I know what to do now to win the case, and I'm totally going to end things with my father's traitor and immediately go to the hospital to make sure I wasn't pregnant.

This must be my father's gift to me, giving me a second chance to make things right again.

It was a gray Tuesday morning when I found the USB drive.

I was running late to work, as usual, and decided to take a shortcut through the park. That’s when I saw it—half-buried in the wet grass near a bench, a small black USB stick. On it, scrawled in neat silver marker, were two words: “Your Life.”

Curiosity trumped common sense. I pocketed it, figuring someone had dropped it. Maybe it held family photos or homework or a resume. But something about those words stuck in my mind all day like a whisper I couldn’t quite make out.

That evening, alone in my apartment, I plugged it into my laptop.

It took a few seconds to load.

The screen flashed. Then a folder appeared, titled simply: “Open Me.”

Inside were dozens of subfolders, each labeled with eerily specific names—“Childhood,” “High School,” “Regrets,” “Dreams,” “First Love,” and most chilling of all: “Future.”

I clicked on “Childhood.” Photos and videos spilled out. They were all of me. Birthday parties I barely remembered, my first time riding a bike, my mother tucking me into bed. Private, intimate moments no one had ever recorded—or so I thought.

Confused and a little unnerved, I opened “High School.” There were scanned pages from my old journals, chat logs, screenshots of conversations long deleted. Secrets I never shared with anyone. How could anyone have this?

My fingers trembled as I clicked on “Regrets.”

There they were—decisions I wished I could change, paths not taken, people I hurt, people I lost. Each regret played like a movie reel, forcing me to relive them. I shut the lid of the laptop for a moment, heart racing.

But I couldn’t stop.

I opened “Dreams.” A strange warmth passed through me. This folder showed versions of my life that never happened—but could have. Me as a musician, a traveler, a father. All the things I once hoped for, rendered vividly, beautifully. Tears welled in my eyes. Was this some kind of digital prophecy? Or cruel fantasy?

Then, I hovered over the final folder: “Future.”

Against my better judgment, I double-clicked it.

A single video file opened. It began with me—older, gray-haired, sitting in a hospital bed. I watched in stunned silence as the video unfolded. It chronicled the rest of my life: promotions I never thought I’d earn, people I hadn’t met yet, heartbreaks, a family of my own, and finally… my last breath.

I sat there, staring at the screen, the soft hum of my laptop the only sound in the room.

When the video ended, a message appeared:

“You can change any of it. But you must choose. Close this and forget. Or accept and begin anew.”

The drive ejected itself.

The next morning, I quit my job.

I booked a one-way ticket.

And I started over.

Because sometimes, the only way to live your life—is to finally see it for what it could be. And choose it, fully.

Everything changed… and for once, it was on purpose.

Sunday, I wake up at 5 am, take my morning shower, put on some nice clothes, and then turn on my computer and let the settings load while I go out to buy some warm, delicious bread. When I get home, I make a delicious snack and sit in front of my computer screen. When I look to the side, I see a USB flash drive connected to the CPU. A strange USB flash drive, black in color with symbols I don't recognize. My curiosity awakens and I think, it's already connected, let's see what it is. The name of the USB flash drive is "your life", and that's when your heart freezes, and you think of a thousand and one possibilities. I imagined that someone had recorded my daily actions and was trying to extort me, then I thought: who would try to get money from someone who barely has any? I clicked to check. A folder with an absurd number of files, all dated. The strangest thing of all, the dates start with today. I clicked on the first file related to today and started watching. It seems like someone recorded me going to the bakery. Wow, someone is recording me using the computer. I stopped using it right away and went to investigate the house. I didn't find anything. I went back to watch it. The next step was exactly what I did. I went forward a few hours and there was a video of me at the beach. I was very confused. I had actually planned a trip to the beach today. I rewound the video a little, around noon, and I saw myself bumping into a rock in front of the house. I froze in fear. Could it be possible? Is this flash drive showing my future? I froze in fear and thought, I'm not going to the front of the house. I'm not going to bump into that rock. I'll come back later to watch it to see what happens. I sat on the couch, waiting for the scheduled time so I wouldn't bump into it. Around noon, a friend came to the door and called out my name. I went to answer it. When I opened the door, he grabbed my hand, pulled me and gave me a hug. When I tried to go back home, I bumped into the same rock I saw in the video. My heart almost stopped, it happened exactly the same way. After he left, I sat in front of the computer and wondered, if there was a video for each day of my life, which one would be the last? I started scrolling down and exploring the number of videos, there were many, after seeing that there were more than 1000 videos, I was afraid to continue. Afraid, not knowing when the end would in, I tried to move away from the screen, working on my mental health to build up the courage and move forward, discovering as much as I could about my future. The end of the day was approaching, I'm going to sleep and I'll look at this more calmly tomorrow. I took out the flash drive and put it in a drawer with a personal key and went to bed, when I woke up, where was the flash drive? It was gone, did I only have one day to have access to everything? Was it real or a dream? Was it all in my head? I look at my toe and see the bruise from the day before, it wasn't a dream, it was real... I look from side to side and feel indignant: could?