Tick Tock [short story]

river of [t]ime

Tuesday, July 30th, XXXX ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀05:57

United States of America

NXX XXXX

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Kassie was a sweet girl. She shouldn’t have died. It should have been me. And that isn’t the voice of survivor’s guilt. 

It really should have been me that day. I think - I think sometimes that I was born to die. A person like me shouldn’t exist.

I am an anomaly, fighting against the very river I’m not allowed to fight against. Other people move in this river, Time, and some swim and go far, far ahead, and others grab a log and float, and others struggle and learn, or some never learn at all and lead a difficult life.

But me - I’m not any of those. Even “Lucy” floated and struggled and swam at one point, I’m certain. But I am a little girl on the riverbank, watching as everyone goes by.

I am the person who skips rocks into the water and counts how many times it skips. I am the person that every person in the water scowls at. Sometimes, they will stop and swim to me, and try to pull me in.

But I will refuse.

I like this riverbank. I etch things on the riverbank with a twig. I etch how many people pass. I etch what they do. I record whether they sink or swim, float or struggle. I watch until I can’t see them anymore, and I wonder where they’ve gone. I wonder if I can follow them one day.