Chapter 6: 27 days until

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Excuse me, Miss Y/N? Miss Y/N? Miss Y/N!"

I jerked awake with a shout, nearly tumbling out of my seat and onto the floor.

Mr. Yang, my annoying, balding Korean Government teacher, was hovering over me, disapproval written all over his face.

"Thank you for choosing to wake up and join the rest of the class, Miss Kang," he said disparagingly

"I'm sorry, Mr. Yang, I didn't mean to fall asleep, I—"

My voice broke off as I took in my surroundings, realizing that I was sitting in the middle of my Korean Government classroom, surrounded by my snickering classmates, the date on the whiteboard boldly displayed in green marker for all to see.

November 11.

Everything came to a screeching halt and began to crash down around me. November 11. What? The last time I'd checked, it had been December 9th. I had just gone to Yoongi's funeral because he had committed suicide, and then I'd—made a deal with Death.

I'd made a deal with Death. Min Yoongi had killed himself, and I'd made a deal with Death in order to stop him. Was I truly sitting in my Korean Government class twenty-seven days in the past?

"E-Excuse me, Mr. Yang? I need to . . ." I stood, grabbed at my coat and bag, and stumbled my way toward the door. "I've got to . . ."

Make a run for it? Throw up? Pass out? Anything sounded better than staying in this classroom any longer.

I dashed down an empty hallway lined with lockers and banged my way into the girls' restroom. I checked the stalls to make sure that the place really was empty, then collapsed against the counter, my breath coming out in sharp gasps.

I twisted the faucet on and splashed cold water in my face, thankful I wasn't wearing makeup. Then, with another deep breath, I started at my reflection in the grimy mirror, hoping I would at least recognize myself.

It was a relief to see that I still looked like me; still a brunette with the same plain brown eyes and straight nose, but my cheeks were as pale as a sheet and the expression on my face was one of pure shock. I was even wearing a pair of jeans and a blouse I remembered wearing weeks ago and had last seen on the floor of my closet.

I distinctly remembered the air of depression hanging over the school the day we found out Yoongi killed himself, how empty and sad his funeral had been, and I definitely knew that I had met Yoongi's mother, Mrs.Min, and his little sister, Rosie.

And there was no way, even in my worst nightmares, I could have imagined somebody like Death. I wouldn't ever be able to forget his gaunt face or his unsettling smirk, the way he stared at me with those unnatural black eyes, or even those pages full of those weird, looping symbols that I'd been forced to sign—the contract.

"All right, Y/N," I said to my reflection. "Either you just had some crazy dream, or this is all actually real and you've just time traveled."

I felt ridiculous just saying those words aloud to myself. Good thing no one else was around to hear me talking to my reflection. I left the restroom and leaned against the wall outside, squeezing my eyes shut. I needed to come up with a plan, except my mind had gone spectacularly blank. I wasn't a science fiction buff, and for all I knew there could be some set of time travel laws I was supposed to follow. I could've already broken a handful of them in the five minutes since I opened my eyes.

Was I supposed to go back to the church? Go back to that Starbucks, see if Death was still there, and try to contact him in some way?

And then the answer occurred to me so abruptly, I felt stupid for not having thought of it right away.

Look for Yoongi.

To be continued........

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Hope you didn't find it short.....

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