My daughter met her future self, and I don’t know what to do.

My wife and I have a two beautiful little girls, Ellen (6) and Amy (12). She’s the light of our lives, but some shit went down recently that I’m not sure I can handle on my own, or if I even should. I think I need an outside perspective, so I’m just gonna post here and see if anyone has any ideas. <br><br>Amy is just a normal preteen girl; she likes her phone, she likes her friends, and she is getting heavily into teenagedom. She’s just starting to hit puberty, so she’s not as bad as some girls her age, but it’s definitely starting to show. Ellen, on the other hand, is not a normal little girl. She’s not the devil or anything, but something’s definitely off about her. When she was a toddler, she would talk about things that she couldn’t have seen or been taught yet, and now she spends most of her time drawing pictures and writing in a complex, cursive script she made up. Last week, Amy made a post on Instagram about how lucky she was to have such an awesome dad (I didn’t know she did this until after the whole thing was over, but it was really sweet of her), and some random guy slid into her DMs and started chatting with her. Now, before I get a bunch of comments telling me to be a better dad, I was monitoring her social media presence, but I didn’t know about this until she told me about it. Amy didn’t seem particularly interested, but they talked for a little while anyway. It wasn’t until he told her his name that she got a little confused. He said it was Amy, and she asked him if he was a boy or girl. He said he was a girl, which was obviously very confusing for her. She asked how he got her name, and Amy could see the little “he’s typing” dots for a while before he responded. <br><br>“When did you start using social media?”<br><br>She told him, and then he responded “I’ll see you soon.”<br><br>He didn’t respond after that. She forgot about it pretty quickly, until a few nights later. It was a weekend and we’d all gone to bed pretty early. It was storming, so Amy stayed in her room instead of sleeping on the couch, although usually she liked to sleep out there when it was stormy cause she said it was comfy and felt like camping. At around 2, I woke up to the sound of the front door opening. I’m a pretty light sleeper, and my house is pretty small, so even though it was a subtle sound, I was up and moving almost immediately. I walked to the front door, and I saw the faintest hint of a shadow. It was gone before I got a good look at it, but it looked like the outline of a little girl, about Amy’s age, wearing a rain poncho. As I looked closer, I noticed the front door wasn’t the only open door. The door going into the living room, which was next to Amy’s bedroom, was also open. I’m positive I shut both of them before I went to bed, and Amy was in her room, so that was strange. <br><br>I thought it might have been Amy, or maybe even Ellen, but something told me to shut the door and go back to bed. It felt wrong, somehow. I went back upstairs and laid down, but I couldn’t sleep. About thirty minutes later, I heard someone walking through the hallway. I knew whoever it was hadn’t been in the house thirty minutes ago. I didn’t want to risk waking up my girls, so I stayed in bed and listened to their movements. They were light, and didn’t creak, so I knew they were a kid. They opened Amy’s door, but didn’t go in right away. They stayed in the doorway for about a minute, and then went inside. Then, I heard a muffled voice. It sounded like a girl whispering. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she sounded upset. A few minutes later, the girl came out and left out the front door again. I heard it shut, and the sound of the screen door closing as well. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I rushed downstairs and shut and locked the door. I ran to Amy’s room to see if whoever was there had done anything to her. When I turned on the light, she was sitting in bed, staring at me with wide eyes and a terrified expression. <br><br>“Amy, are you ok?”<br><br>I calmed down a little as I realized that Amy was physically ok, but she wasn’t handling it very well mentally. She didn’t seem surprised to see me like this, at 2 am, but she looked worried. She didn’t answer, she just stared at me with a dumb expression. I walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder, and that seemed to snap her out of it. <br><br>“What’s up, Amy?”<br><br>“I think something’s wrong with me, daddy.”<br><br>“Of course not, sweetie. Do you think we should call the doctor?”<br><br>“No, not that. I mean something’s wrong with future me.”<br><br>“Why do you think that?”<br><br>She handed me a piece of paper from her bedside table. It was the heavily scribbled remains of a letter, but the majority of it was gone. There were a few words still visible. <br><br>“Dear Amy,<br><br>I’m so sorry. I couldn’t let you see this, because I know you haven’t figured it out yet-<br><br>...You need to make it right. I’m giving you a chance to fix this. Do not waste it. <br><br>-Amy”<br><br>I looked at Amy and asked her if the person who came into her room had given her this letter. She said yes, but that she had burned most of it in her room. She was too tired to go outside, and she didn’t want to wake us up, so she just lit it with a lighter and let it burn in her wastebasket. She was sorry, and promised it wouldn’t happen again. I told her it was ok, as long as she was safe. I asked her who the girl was, and she just said it was her future self. She said they talked for a few minutes, and she had given her the letter. I asked her what they talked about, and she just shook her head a little bit. I could see tears in her eyes. I knew she needed to go to sleep, so I just told her to go to bed and we’d talk in the morning. She didn’t respond, but she laid down in bed. I turned off the light and left. <br><br>The next morning, Amy and I talked. We both slept in pretty late, so Ellen had already been up for a few hours. Amy told me that her future self was horrible, and that she didn’t want to be like that. She wouldn’t tell me exactly what had been in the letter, and I didn’t want to push her on it. She was really relieved that her future wasn’t set in stone, and seemed a little better. It wasn’t until she went back to sleep that I noticed something strange. At the very bottom of the letter, there was a small scribble. It looked like a 4 year olds gothic lettering attempt, and it said:<br><br>“I love you, Ellen.”<br><br>Amy doesn’t remember writing that, and she said that her future self didn’t touch the letter at all; she just gave it to her and left it on her bedside table. I think Ellen wrote it. If I hadn’t seen her do it, I would never have thought that she was capable of it. I know that letter wasn’t there when I first saw it, because it’s at the very bottom of the sheet of paper. If you think you have any idea what to do, please tell me. If you’ve read this far, thank you.