𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕋𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕣

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟝

It was my imagination, right?

The lack of sleep finally getting to me after all these years. That's why I had a timer on my wrist, counting down and this indescribable ringing in my ears. Right?

It was unreal, the ink continuously changed before me on my arm.

Startled I rubbed my arm, hoping that if it was some kind of allusion it would disappear. But it didn't do anything except count down.

13 days, 12 hours, 36 minutes, 45 seconds

44 seconds

43 seconds

Why's it counting down?

Quickly, I ripped the blankets off of me, the cold air piercing my skin as I jumped out of bed. Katie, she would know what it was. She was the one who had told me everything about my curse so far. She definitely knows what this is...right?

I let out a startled sigh, pushing my hair back and rubbing my face. Think think think

The golden chain shimmered in the sunlight, and the more I stared at it the more I felt as if I was being beckoned towards it.

Going back in time, that would help. But to when?

I couldn't risk changing anything too much, so moving to far back was out of the question. But I had to do it too before the timer had started.

Last night, I have to figure out what this timer means and it seems to have started at some point last night.

And so with a flick of the wrist I grasped the pocket watch from the bedstand and held it in front of me, staring at my reflection in it.

I had time traveled before, once, by complete accident.

It had been an abnormally cloudy day, and the wind was practically howling as it rushed past 10-year old me. Perhaps it was the howling wind that pushed James's red ball into the street, causing him to go chasing after. And causing the entire incident to unfold.

I had been sitting by a tree, reading a book on the stars when I first saw the ball float by into the street. At first I paid no attention to it, and went back to reading.

But then there was a flash of blue and brown. James. He ran onto the street to get the ball when a truck following the winding path hit him.

He wasn't looking, and neither was I.

But once his crimson blood pooled onto the highway my attention had floated back onto him. He was lying there, arm bent in an unholy position, coughing up blood.

The more I stared at him the more I thought about my parents and the accident. I didn't want to be helpless like I was then. I didn't want him to die.

I didn't want anyone to die. Not when there was a chance I could help him.

So I dropped my book and ran to him, watching him choke up his last breath, the life leaving his blue eyes. I saw it then, what death really looked like.