Fate of Strings

CHAPTER 11-THE PAST

A/N: It's your favorite author here! Another chapter, another year. I was too excited, so I updated this on New Year's! Happy New Years and may the new year be great! Without further ado, another chapter!

2.13.17

I just nodded and followed her on the elevator. Thoughts and questions flooded my mind. But the one that annoyed me the most was Why was I chosen for the Black String? Why can't I hear that person's name?

The elevator ride was quiet, save the hums of Anthia. I glanced at her here and then, trying to figure out her time. But every time I did, the numbers came out as 00:00:00. There were only few instances where I've seen that: the other Heads and Mabuz. However, Mabuz was a different story altogether.  

My mind floated back to that time where I first met him.

-Flashback-  (Flashbacks would be noted by underlines)

It was a few years ago, around ten at most. It was the first ANNOUNCEMENT that I was supposed to attend, which I ditched my parents by weaving in and out of the crowd. When I had escaped. I ran to the largest building I could find: the Gray Building. Surprisingly, there was no one inside the building, only a dull silence that diminished with my hurried steps. I bolted through the entrance and noticed a elevator.

It was new, shining silver and no scratched. I looked around the a device to open it. A glint caught my eye, which was a button that had a arrow going up. On tip-toes, I couldn't reach it. I sighed in defeat and searched for a alternative- stairs. I made my way up, slowly yet steadily, and made it to the last floor. Opening the door, a warm breeze blew welcomed me. The sun had started to set, meaning that I was at the stairs for a while.

I bit my lip as I made my way to the edge. Since the building finally opened the top floor, the workers didn't create railings as of yet. Anxiety bubbled inside me. Was I going to do this? My body ,moved by itself, my feet taking me closer and closer to the edge.

I didn't want to do it, but I can't stand this ability anymore. The first time I told someone was my parents. They told me that I was seeing things and ignored it. But then, it became numbers that counted down. I was afraid of what I saw. People who reached zero had a lifeless look in their eyes., similar to a dead fish The next person was a kid in the neighborhood. She listened intently, offering half-hearted sympathy. I didn't expect much, since no one else had the ability to see time like I did.

The next day, kids started calling out at me, pranking me for being a quiet person who saw numbers and being delusional. Tears welled up in my eyes at first, but I slowly became accustomed to the name calling after a few months. However, I didn't like the way their parents looked at me as if I had caught a disease, no, they called it a curse. Most of the time my parents didn't do much, since they didn't know about the conflict that I had with the adults. They only knew that I obtained bruises and scratches every other day and considered them to be nothing out of the ordinary.

I held my head up high, trying to ignore their insults and bullying. No matter how hard they try to get me down, I got back up. But that was not the case a few days ago. The bullying accumulated to the point that everyone on the street threw insults and items at me, most of which was rotten fruit. The worst part was that my eyes couldn't handle the immense number of times there were. Yes, I was used to at least a few different time stamps, but no more. My head throbbed at the numbers and I sped up, only to be doused with fish blood and hollers.

The slimy liquid covered my body. I felt tears form in my eyes, but I willed them not to drop. Keeping my head down, I bolted through the crowd, laughter followed behind me. I didn't want my parents to see me like this, so I made my way through the back door  of the shop and locked it. Drops of water dropped to the floor, as did my figure that crumpled into a ball.