Death Row

Training

Then

"You've got to eat something, Max. I know the funeral and everything that happened has been hard on you, but if you don't eat, you'll make yourself sick. You need your strength, sweetheart." Vanessa sat at the breakfast table across from her daughter, watching her only child mourningly sulk. "At least talk to me then."

With darkened grey bags hanging under her gloomy eyes, Max slowly lifted her head and glanced back towards her mom. "Talk to you? No thanks. I tried that. You don't believe a damn word I say, mother. Why the hell should I even try?" She drooped her head back down towards the tabletop, heavy breaths causing her chest to rapidly expand then contract.

"Oh, Max." The woman briefly paused to clear her throat. "You were there. Not to be morbid but her body was in the casket, right? You saw it. Chloe is d..."

"Fuck you." Max's voice trembled as she abruptly pushed back from the table and onto her feet causing the chair to tip over behind her and crash to the kitchen floor. "I can still feel her! She's out there. I don't know what I saw in the goddamn casket, but Chloe is alive. She's alive! I don't give a shit what you say." Max turned from the kitchen, stomping out of the room and up the stairs.

Fucking bullshit!

Slamming the bathroom door behind her, Max peered at herself in the mirror, despising the girl that stared back. She twisted the lever above the faucet spout and splashed water on her face. Having not showered in days, the cooling sensation gave her a start, causing her breathing to stagger. Admittedly, the liquid felt nice on her skin, but a twinge of guilt from experiencing even a sliver of joy made her hate herself a little more. She left the bathroom and plopped down on the side of her bed, legs dangling so her toes could just slightly scrape the floor. She retreated into herself, placing two open palms on her face, head craning over her lap.

I gotta go back... I can't do this.

The fear in her mind of potentially creating another storm paled in comparison to the bitter remorse in her heart for letting her soulmate die. She swore to herself, not long ago, that she would never use her power again. Consequences followed, both immediately and long term, whenever she manipulated time, but none of that mattered anymore. She couldn't live with the outcome of her decision on the cliff any longer. Max was going to try whatever she could to find Chloe. Even if it meant turning the universe inside out, she was set on finding a way.

She's not gone. Fuck. That.

Max stretched her hand outward from her body and squinted in preparation for a tiny rewind attempt. She remembered the nosebleeds, headaches, and nightmares brought on by excessive power usage, so she wanted to begin with extra caution. She knew the risks, but if she were going to figure out how to get back to Chloe, she'd need to hone her power and take her time doing so.

Max forced it out at a barely discernible trickle then released her grip. It was such a minuscule rewind that she barely even perceived reality moving backwards at all. Dropping her hand back down to the bed, the girl inhaled deeply through her nose. The cool air trailing into her nostrils then down to her lungs somehow felt more real than anything she'd experienced within the past week. It was in that moment she realized how numb she'd been since the funeral. That first rewind served as a reminder she still had an incredible power deep within her. A slight boost of assertiveness pulsed through her body, providing her with newfound clarity. She remembered how each rewind felt during her week with Chloe, and she couldn't recall a single instance that it didn't hurt. Headaches were all too common back then, but this first attempt felt fine. Starting slowly, Max continued to advance with her self-training.