Time is ticking. It always is. From the day of your birth till the day of your death, time is always ticking.
This may hold a different meaning to varying people. Some may take it as a timer to cram all of their life goals into or an alarm to wake them up from a bad nightmare. Some may see it merely the way that it is. Something that will always continue whether we wish it to or not. It never stops and it never waits for anybody or anything.
Here, it literally means what it says. Time is ticking. Everybody is born with a timer hovering over their head. Always ticking down. What is this timer for you might ask? Well, when the timer hits zero, you're done. It is a timer for your life. Everyone can see it except for you. Everyday, I pass by people with timers counting very close to zero. I always send out a silent prayer for them, you know, in case there really is a god or what not.
We don't know where the timers came from or
if they are reversible. Most people tend to ignore it, but I usually choose not to.
I've tried asking people to read me my number, but they continually refuse. Whether it be because they refuse not to or because they physically can't. Beats me.
Everyday haunts me. Everyday I grow closer and closer to when those numbers hit zero. Most people live life to its fullest, not wanting to miss out on anything.
This causes the crime rates to shoot through the roof. People never miss an opportunity to snatch an unattended purse or pick up someone's forgotten phone. I am always on the lookout for sketchy teenagers or old, glaring men.
Everyday, I run errands for my mother. I go out to the marketplace and purchase our groceries. I'll catch people smoking or drinking who-knows-what in lone alleyways all the time. I cautiously speed walk down the side walk, aching to be back home where it is safe. My dark curls bounce along with every step I take and sway with every breeze that blows my way. I pull my hoodie tighter as I breeze past a couple of empty stores. I look back at the little note my mom attached to my grocery list. Be home at 5:00 sharp. No later. Hugs and kisses :) I sigh and shove the note back into my pocket. I turn into a warm, cozy looking store at the end of the street. People cast me strange looks so I throw a lazy eye back at them. The atmosphere seems tense, but nevertheless welcoming with the big couches and sweet smell of coffee and tea. I approach the cash register. A soft light illuminates the soft backdrop. Faux vines rope around the countertop. A tall lady taps away on a small iPad.
"Good morning miss."
She looks up at me, obviously irritated that I disturbed whatever she was focused on. Once she took in my whole appearance, which composed of a worn out, red hoodie and a pair of ripped jeans, her whole demeanor changed. A kind smile lit up her face as she put her device away and folded her hands on the countertop.
"Oh hello young lady. How may I help you today?"
Her act confuses me, but I push it aside.
"May I please have a medium mocha with a double shot of espresso and an extra dollop of whipped cream?"
"Sure thing sweety!"
She types something into the iPad and started walking away.
"Um the cost?"
I ask before she could disappear behind the shelf.
"Oh don't worry about it hon. Drinks on the house!"
I shove my wallet back into my pocket just as she hands me my drink.
"Have a good day miss."
"Thanks. You too."
I head out. A small alarm seems to push its way into my thoughts. What happened to that lady? Does she always have sudden mood changes? I decide not to let it bother me and continue on my grocery hunt. After what feels like hours, I finally manage to find everything on the list.
People continue to cast me loving gazes as I walk by. Wait. Is it my clock? Is it close to zero? Oh my gosh.
I make my way home. People cast strange gazes at me as I saunter past. I walk a little faster, itching to be at home reading my book and sipping my coffee. I check my watch one last time. It's 4:55. I'm almost home. I turn into our apartment building and fly past the front desk and up the stairs. I stop at my door. 501. The "magic" number as my mom calls it. I sigh and pull open the door to see my parents waiting for me with open arms.
"Oh my beautiful baby."
Tears stream down my parent's cheeks. I look at them in despair. I'm going to die. This is it. These are my last moments. What should I say. What am I gonna do? I turn around, taking in my last moments. I hug my parents and let them cry into my shoulder.
"I love you guys."
They look at me, then above my head. I hold my breath as they sit, waiting for my number to hit zero. They slowly mouth out the numbers so I can see.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
I look outside, wondering what death feels like. Is it sweet? Does it hurt? Will I remember it? I don't know.
I slowly see them mouth out the one word I had been dreading.
Zero.
I close my eyes, waiting for death to take me. I hear my parents gasp as I open my eyes. Why am I still here? Is it not at zero? Did they read it wrong? I stand up from where we were on the floor and rush to my room. I don't know what to do. My timer is at zero and nothing happened. I push open my window, sending a lonely flower pot sailing down towards the ground. I hear something shatter and something else fall to the ground. Horror floods my body as I peer down below.
To my surprise, the flower pot didn't hit the floor like I thought it did. It hit something. Someone. It hit a boy. An absolutely beautiful boy. I chock back a sob as I realize what I had just done.
I... I just killed someone.
My timer hadn't been counting how long it would take for my life to end. It had been counting how long it would take for me to take someone else's.
~End~
By: Lin
