November 1st

Chapter Seven

 When I wake up, I merely take a few seconds to realize that I haven't updated my calendar yet. Sighing, I grab my pen and the calendar from underneath my bed, not hesitating to cross the box off. "#6,568- over," I whisper to myself. "#6,569 can go die somewhere."

Suddenly, the door creaks open, causing me to scream and fall off of my bed. I glance up to see my mother staring at my now empty bed, as if I was still sleeping. "Diavian," she says monotonously. "It's time to get up. I'll be waiting for you to come down."

The door closes, and I hoist myself upwards. "That means that it's six," I say to no one in particular. And as the time revelation dawns on me, I find myself beginning to smile. "...And that also means that I didn't repeat!" I throw my pen in the air joyously. "I woke up differently than normal!"

Smiling, I fall backwards onto my bed. All of a sudden, I find my shoulders finally relaxing from the invisible weight the practice of repeating took on me. I find myself thanking the intuitive side of me for my midnight "mission" as I get up, happiness and dread swirling together to create mixed emotions within me.

After I finish my routine for the morning, I make sure that I've packed the book about the law of Time in my backpack. I'm out the door before Mother can give her inspirational quote that makes me hopeful nevertheless.

This time, I decide to start reading the book on my way to school, so I won't repeat myself by waving to every single person that I see. I skim through the words until I find the next page. "She'd come home everyday, with a smile on her face," I whisper to myself. "But I couldn't help but notice that her smile would disappear once she saw me.

"It was heartbreaking. Did I really deserve to see that every day?" I pause, ponder whether or not I want him to die by someone else's hands or by my own. "No matter. I just described the story to her again. Again and again. And when she'd go to her room, I wouldn't hear her cry. So when I come upstairs, I whisper the story to her again, instead of whispering that everything will be alright. That made her cry again.

"Sure, it was a horrible thing to do to my daughter after I killed my wife-" No kidding, I think bitterly. "But I was saving myself. Who knows what she would do if she found out? Maybe kill me? Maybe act like nothing's happening. Or maybe..."

Suddenly, it ends again, just like the first time. I'm filled with so much irritation at that specific moment that I'm tempted to throw it somewhere and never see it again... until more words appear, that is.

I sigh as I place the book into my school bag yet again. "Now I have to do what I always do," I think to myself, standing up again. And just like I had thought, people immediately start waving to me. Plastering up a big enough smile, I wave back to them and joyfully walk towards my school.

Joyfully.

...

First period. Once again.

I think about doing my homework for the next week, since that way, I won't have to waste my time at home doing it and I won't be repeating the daily action of doing it. Unfortunately, when I open my bag, I see that I've finished two weeks worth of homework, along with the monthly project for AP Biology.

I glance over at Sidonia, who's reading the same book for the past week or so. Looking away, I stare down at my own school bag for a moment before opening it up. I frown when the book's right there for me to pick up, begging to be read.

Sighing, I take the book and flip to the last page I had read. I try my best to not throw my book away when I reread the page to remember where I left off. Gritting my teeth in utter anger at this horrible father, I flip the page.