Human · Klaus Mikaelson

i

Time

1st Pov. Kennicky

I stood alone, the buildings, the sounds of the city, molded together as everything surpassed the clear pane.

Time moved like a hummingbird, fast quick, backgrounds gone in a flash of lightning.

A lowly flat, atop a small building, with many others down the block. My eyes stared at the wood accustomed area, fully panelled, everywhere.

I sighed, many boxes paneled and stacked on the ground. A bed learnt against the wall, as many boxes stacked in a corner, labeled as 'need-to-build' priority.

I sighed and drug my tank behind me, my oxygen tank that is. The 'other half' of myself, literally.
My lungs gave out when I was ten. 8 years of medical abuse, and oxygen deprivation. I struggle for breath at regular times, walking, talking, but somehow I can do things such as track.
Ironic, right?

I pulled the handle along with myself, as the wheels creaked along the floor.

"At least my bed can be pushed down onto the frame." I shoved the bed lightly from the wall, and it bounced onto the mattress.

I sighed and breathed in deep, and rolled my eyes.

"How can pushing soemthi g quick, take more breath than running a mile?" I asked myself, and I laid down on my bed. My eyes slowly shut, as darkness took me into nothingness.

---

I slowly sat up, and gasped at the sight around me. I ran a hand through my hair and stood slowly.

"I did it again, crap." I said, and stared at the flat. It was fully furnished, all of the boxes were folded and moved out of the way, everything in its place and was built.

I glanced at the clock, and my eyes widened.

"I'm late." I said, and grab my satchel. I stuffed my notebook inside it, and grabbed my tank handle. I rushed out the door, and grabbed my keys to my car.

I trudged to it once I got down the stairs, I lifted the tank onto my shoulder with the strap. I jiggled my keys and stuck it into the slot.

"Do you need help?" A voice asked next me, and I paused and looked up.

Tall man stood next me, my eyes scanned his hazel ones, his blond-brown shaggy hair. He wore a smirk, as I thought of something to say.

"No, I got it. Thank you." I said, and opened the car door.

"Well, good day then." The man said, his voice thick with an English accent of some sorts. I sighed and leaned against my car.

He held his hand out, and I returned the gesture. His hand slowly brought mine it his lips, and kissed it gingerly.

He quickly walked away, and I climbed into my car, speeding to school as my mind thought over the features of the man.