𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ━ five hargreeves

6│A STORY LOST IN TIME

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❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐒𝐈𝐗 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴀ sᴛᴏʀʏ ʟᴏsᴛ ɪɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ꒱


❝ I'M SORRY THAT MY LIFE
STORY IS BORING FOR YOU ❞

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"Lola Gimbel? That's your name?" the boy asked.

He was clearly a boy even if she hadn't seen his face. Lola nodded and then pointed further down the page. Even if the brightness made her vision spotty, she knew the opening of her autobiography well enough to know what the layout was.

He read aloud:

I'm getting ahead of myself; I was born in the General Hospital at 9:15 a.m. According to my birth certificate, I weighed five pounds, five ounces. My mother was in labor for almost nine hours and when I finally arrived, she named me Dolores. I hate my name because it sounds so old fashioned and it means sadness. I'd like to think I was a gift to my parents and I know they love me, so instead of telling them that, I call myself Lola, which is better. It's still a derivative of Dolores, after all. As for appearances, I have shoulder-length brown hair with mid-length bangs and blue eyes.

"Your name is Dolores but you call yourself by something else?" he sounded genuinely confused at that, even when she nodded. He didn't ask why since he'd read her explanation.

He hesitated then said: "I'm Five. Yes, as in the number. That's a long story that you don't need to hear. Do you know what happened?" he asked as he gestured around them.

Lola shook her head. Once the brightness had dimmed slightly, the world of ash and rubble had shocked her to her core. The last she'd seen of the known earth had been what everyone knew. What about my parents? she wanted to ask, what about the other survivors?

For some reason, the words wouldn't come. It was as if her voice had been locked away, unreachable though she tried.

"Normally I would say I work better on my own but seeing as you're in no fit state to survive, I'll let you stay on until you can. I fully expect you to keep up with me though. If you fall behind I'm not going to wait up."

His voice was harsh and unforgiving, reminding her slightly of her mother when she gave out chores or corrected something of Lola's behavior that she didn't like. Unable to do anything else, she nodded. The boy— Five, what a strange name— started to walk again, leaving her to turn around and stare at the blurry remains of her house. Her heart twisted. 

Somewhere in there were her parents and uncle.

"Let's go!" he barked from up ahead.

Lola sighed. Her imagined savior had never acted like the boy was now. Stumbling after him, she allowed the boy to continue at his pace, albeit slightly slower than before. Her eyes were going to take a while to adjust not to mention regaining her strength.

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Her vision returned slowly. After so long of nothing but blackness even the dark, ashy world was blindingly bright. Soon, though, her pupils return to their normal size. The rubble with dying fires came into focus and she wasn't sure what was worse: not being able to see anything or what her current landscape was.

Lola's strength returned in increments as well. While she'd paced her basement for who knew how long but that was nothing compared to the treacherous surface of the earth that they traveled over now. Loose rocks would get in their path, solid parts of the road turned out to be not-so-solid and climbing over broken buildings was no easy feat either.