Hours

6- Monday, May 14th

10:47 PM

I lay on top of my cream-coloured sheets in my room, staring at the ceiling. My phone buzzes on the sheets beside me. I pick it up, sighing. Another message from my dad.

I don't bother responding, I know he won't be home until well after midnight anyway. My Dad's a nurse at the local hospital, he's so generous that he often stays out way past midnight, covering other nurses shifts for them. He's sweet, but he'll work himself to death. My Mom, on the other hand, is a fashion designer. She could work from home, but she works in an office half an hour away. Leaves early, gets home late. That's when she's not on 'business trips' like the one she's on down in New York currently. She's out of the city at least three times a month for days at a time, has been since I started high school.

She doesn't know that I know her secret.

I sit up, looking around my spacious room. We live in a house, bigger than average, out of the way of downtown. Everyone who's ever come over has told me how big it is, though I've never really noticed. I look at the time on my phone, 10:51 PM. I get up, heading to the bathroom down the hall. Brushing my teeth, I look at myself in the mirror.

My long blonde hair falls messily over my shoulders and onto my Dad's old tattered Queen t-shirt. Checkered pink shorts peek out from beneath the hem, barely going halfway down my thighs. My legs, lightly tanned from the bleak Canadian sunshine, are long and smooth, not bruised from playing rugby like some girls, or burnt from trying too hard like others. My arms look the same, lightly tanned and smooth, my fingernails painted a cherry red earlier that night. My face, now clear of makeup, is freckled and splotchy, small red spots covering my chin. I've never liked the look of my face, I started wearing makeup in Grade 7 to change that. My eyes have gray bags beneath them, something I'd attribute to the time travel and not the lack of sleep. My green eyes shine dully in the yellow light of the bathroom, the pale blue walls making them stand out like the sea.

I spit out my toothpaste, wash my face and brush my hair. I braid it before putting it in an easy bun with a simple clip, keeping it out of my face. Leaving the bathroom, I head back to my room, making sure that all but the foyer light is off. I open my window for a small breeze before slipping under the heavy duvet, expecting to stay awake for at least half an hour, but my eyelids start to feel heavy as soon as my head hits the pillow.

~

A haunting melody fills my ears, soft but sweet and strong. The strokes of the piano are lilting, echoey, calm. Happy and sad, I find myself swaying along to the notes of the piano. It's not a tune I recognize, something composed in this century but fit for the last.

I open my eyes, looking around. Chairs are set up in a circle around me, each a dark blue velvet with luxurious backs made of dark mahogany. A raised stage lies in the middle. A grand piano sits on the stage, a dark-haired woman elegantly moving along to the notes her fingers make along the keyboard.

I stand from my own seat, looking around, confused. I am the only one in the room, though there are thousands of seats. Looking down at myself, I see a dress as black as midnight cloaked over my body, swirling around with every movement. My hair is pulled up into a tight bunch of curls that rests at the nape of my neck, softly brushing my skin.

I move from my seat, drawn towards the stage and the woman. Despite my fancy attire, she's dressed rather ordinarily, wearing a light blouse covered with a jean jacket. Her face is familiar, but I can't place it. I reach the stage, mounting a staircase I hadn't noticed before, and stand before the piano. I close my eyes, swaying with the beats

The song lulls to a soft end, the quiet melody haunting me until the pianist stands, turning to look at me.

"Nice, isn't it?" She asks, crossing her arms and walking over to me. I open my eyes, trying to figure out where I've seen her before. "Empty show tonight."

I nod, knowing but not understanding what she means.

"Is it usually busy?" I ask, voice sounding like I'm underwater, wavering and soft. She looks out at the sea of empty seats, contemplating something

"Somedays. One boy gets tickets usually every night." She turns back to me, looking sad but shrugging, "I guess they were sold out tonight."

She turns around, heading over to a pair of chairs that appeared where the piano used to be, and gestures for me to sit. I do, looking at her immaculate hair and crystal blue eyes. "So," She says, leaning back, "How's Micheal?"

I blink, and for a moment I see a halo of light around her, outlining a pair of brilliant white wings. She seems to glow, and I can't un-see the dazzling sight.

"You're-" I begin, surprised and scared by her suddenness.

"The same woman I was on the 18th. And you're the same as you were on the 18th as well, although... I sense you've changed a little."

"What do you mean?" I demand, looking around.

"You're... a little more open." She says slowly, choosing her words carefully. "A little more cautious." She pauses, looking at me, and something softens in her expression, her eyes calming and motherly. Her next words come out as a whisper, happy and sad all at once. "More caring."

I open my mouth to speak, but she interrupts me again. "Daylight comes, Kayla. Tickets are sold out." She pauses, looking sad, "Save him, please. Help Micheal."

I fall backwards, the chair and stage and floor gone, gone to an inky blackness. I swim upwards, reaching towards all I know, but I sink faster than possible. My dress weights me down, twisting around me enough to cease all movement until I become little more than a sinking reel of blackness.

The restrictiveness of the fabric is the opposite of unpleasant, however. As I sink deeper into the darkness I become more and more calm, until my eyes close and I can't even open them anymore. I feel my body hit the bottom, my head landing softly on the sea floor.

I open my eyes to the morning light of my bedroom, cream sheets lying smoothly around me, head resting on my pillow. I blink, looking at the clock. As I do, my alarm goes off, and I slap the button quickly.

It was all so surreal...

Maybe it wasn't.