Fandomonium

Timebombs

Week 14, Day 6

I passed out early last night, maybe around midnight, and woke up to the sound of a door being slammed and an empty bed. I continue to write:

If a clock counted down to the exact moment you would meet your soul mate, would you want to know?

That's the question I've been asked every year in school and every year I refuse answer. Therefore, every single year I get detention. Not that I'm complaining, I got to sit and chill while everyone had to write a five paragraph essay. But now I'm in ninth grade and everything is getting serious. I'm the kind of kid who will never admit his feelings.

I thought all of this was rubbish, I thought that the little clock made of ink resting on my left wrist was nothing but the time of day but at a young age I figured out I was incorrect. Until today, though, I always ignored it. Nobody ever told me the true meaning and that's why I regret all those detentions. I never learned the meaning of the numbers.

At the exact moment, it says, "1d 1h 1m 1s." Maybe it's code but I'm assuming it means something major is going to happen in one day, one hour, one minute, and one second. I've never seen the ink on anyone else but I guess maybe that's because only the eyes of the beholder can view the wretched ink. All I know is that we're forbidden to talk about it. I really wish I hadn't missed those lessons. So what happens in one day, one hour, one minute, and one second? Will the world end? Will I die? Will they discover that the cure to the common cold is simply the milk of a cat? What is this madness that occurs so soon? I suppose I'll find out tomorrow.

I walk into class late, as always. We have a substitute for math class today so in other words we're most certainly not doing anything. I want to ask someone what the clock means, if theirs says one day, one hour, one minute, one second. But I know it's forbidden so I unlock my phone and access some games.

"Joshua!" The teacher rasps. "Where is Joshua Thomas?" Everyone points to me and I look at the frail woman underneath my circle-framed glasses. I nod at her and turn my attention back to my phone.

The clock moves at the speed of molasses while my heart beats frantically. Each class is the same. The teacher calls role and we write our notes until the bell rings. When the final bell finally goes off, I'm lost in deep thought. "Josh!" My best friend, Alex punches me on the shoulder.

"What the hell?" I snap my head to look at him.

"School's over, mate. It's time to go." He shrugs his bag onto his shoulder and walks out the door.

"Right," I mutter to myself. I look at my wrist. Seventeen hours, twenty-nine minutes. I don't plan on getting much sleep.

I run out the door and grab my bike, pedaling down the street to my cottage. As soon as I get home, I drop my bike in the garage, not even bothering to lock it up. I grab my laptop and research "ink on my wrist". All that shows up is a home remedy on how to get permanent marker off your skin. Sighing, I slam my computer shut. I don't worry about homework, I never have. I flip on the TV and there's nothing on but some stupid home and garden show so I try to drown my thoughts out. I can feel my heart beat and I feel as if I'm going to have a heart attack but decide against calling the doctor. My breathing is short and sharp. I feel like I'm going to be sick.

I run into my bathroom and stare at my distorted reflection. I brush my dark brown hair off my pale forehead, revealing a row of acne. When I was younger and felt bored, I would play connect the dots with my blemishes. I stare into my dark eyes but see nothing but a black hole. "What have I become?" I yell. "Where the hell has Joshua gone?" Not glancing at the mirror again, I slam the door and collapse on my bed.