Number Eight

Run Boy Run

17 years ago...

I don't think I've ever looked forward to a family meal. Truly the worst 3 parts of the day.

When I make it to the dining room everyone else is already seated, dad doesn't even notice my presence, or if he does, he chooses to ignore it.

I take my seat next to Five who I notice looks as though he's about to throw a tantrum.

"What's wrong with you?" I whisper. I realize I wasn't quiet enough when dad says, "Number Eight, Number Five, silence."

Across the table, Viktor looks at us wide eyed with a slow shake of his head. Five does nothing but smirk back before slamming a knife into the table causing the rest of us to jump.

Called it, he's throwing a tantrum.

"Number Five?"

"I have a question."

Here we go.

"Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules. No talking during mealtime, you are interrupting Herr Carlson."

Still, he continues. "I want to time travel."

"No."

I can't help but snicker. "But I'm ready," Five persists, "I've been practicing my spacial jumps, just like you said."

As if to prove a point, he gets up from his chair and jumps over to dad. Sighing, I shake my head.

"See?"

"A spacial jump is trivial when compared with the unknowns of time travel," dad starts, "one is like sliding along the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn."

"Well," Five sighs, "I don't get it."

"Hence the reason you're not ready."

Viktor casts a glance my way in which screams help me. Still, I turn my attention back to Five and dad.

"I'm not afraid."

"Fear isn't the issue," a pause, "the effects it might have on your body, even on your mind, are far too unpredictable." He drops the cutlery, "now, I forbid you to talk about this anymore."

I can't help the way my jaw drops when he Five turns and walks out the door. "Number Five!" Dad turns to me.

Oh no.

"Number Eight go get him immediately."

The others watch with anticipation as I stand up glaring before running out the door.

Five goes to blink as I catch his arm, "don't you dare."

An eye roll, "go back inside, Eight."

"Not without you."

A sigh, "I need to prove to dad I can do it."

"And what if you can't? What if dad's right and you aren't capable of it yet."

"What if dad's wrong and I can do it?"

I'm silent for a moment, staring at the ground before looking up again, "are you confident?" I question. A look of relief crosses his features, "I'll be back in a couple minutes, okay? I promise."

I nod, slowly letting go of his arm before he smiles, then he's gone.

Seconds tick by, then they turn into minutes, which then turns into hours.