A Time Machine | Teen Ink

A Time Machine

May 30, 2024
By Anonymous

Time machines cease to exist, but I believe they can come in different forms. As I roll out of bed in the morning, and continue with my simple morning routine, there is a final and most valuable step to complete the well-spent time in my room, a few sprays of perfume. To me, the two presses and the delicate flow of mist that falls over me mean nothing, it is the overwhelming scent that carries me away. The differing scents that have stuck with me through every happy memory and every dark moment, the scent that brings me back to the memories of laughter, and another one I smell on my wrist when wiping tears from my cheek. The small, fragile glass I choose in my hands surrounds the clear liquid, holding a scent that adapts to my skin's chemistry. When the fragrance lingers in the air every sunrise, I am taken on a journey through time. I see a delicate glass bottle, containing a liquid tapestry of experiences. 

I have yet to find a signature, I seem to feel connected to many of my scents. The bottles of pure magic are not my signature, but a new friend, an ended relationship, a body-aching laugh, and a new chapter captured in small confinements. With a gentle press of my sweet vanilla-smelling magic, the air seems to be filled with a familiar scent. The scent of the Smoky Mountains in Gatlinburg Tennessee surrounds me. I am standing in my family’s rented condo upon the peak of a mountain, filled with warmth. I see four smiling children watching TV alongside a present father and mother, everything seems to appear perfect. Yet, it’s a bittersweet symphony. The smells carry me to the last time my family was together before paths diverged due to divorce. The perfume allows me to grasp the last feeling I savor of unity. With the power of this perfume, I am taken back to when I never had to choose which parent I loved more on certain weekends. I am taken back to when Tuesdays weren’t designated to my dad. I am taken back to when my role model of love was wholesome and pure. I am taken back to two parents tucking me in at night, letting me know that they love me, in unison. This overwhelming fragrance allows me to see the beginning before the end. 

Most mornings, when choosing my fragrance, I seem to forget the memories one bottle holds until the scent has already clung to my skin. As my floral fragrance lingers, it evolves, taking me to a time of resilience. The scent becomes a testament to strength, as it takes me to the time I watched my mother battle Thyroid cancer. The sweet daisy scent seems to counter the sharpness of fear that sweeps me away from reality. The perfume takes me on a journey to the moment I asked, “How serious is it?” My mother, filled with the sweetness of hope and endurance, has yet to give up on her four children, yet the perfume reminds me that I seemed to give up on her when the month-long periods went by without seeing her in the hospital due to the COVID-19 restrictions. The perfume relocates me from reality and takes me to her bedroom. The room I am banned from once radiation circulates her frail body. The room I have seen her break down on the floor, but the same room I have the fondest memories. The scent doesn’t hold back the emotions I once felt during that period of life, but it does remind me that I am strong because I have seen the greatness of endurance shown through my mom, and forever I am grateful that the liquid I spray shows the compassion of God on my family. 

I plan to collect cherished scents on my birthdays, whimsical fragrances around the holidays, and matching scents during shopping adventures with my friends. I want a rich-smelling scent for my future wedding day and a bright fragrance that I will first spray when I move into my freshman college dorm room, both marking new chapters in my life. The bottles I have obtained, that stand tall on my bright yellow dresser, are time capsules, containing valuable memories. They remind me that while time continues to move forward, I am built off of the ever-returning moments that define me. The scents shape the narrative of my life, while also proving my growth. A collection of scents that are more than just a simple fragrance, but scents that are time machines.


The author's comments:

I chose to write this piece because I felt as though I could combine many important aspects of what makes me who I am while connecting it all back to simple things that I own. 


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