Human (Discontinued)

Chapter 1

***AN: If you haven't read the prologue then you won't really know what's happening. So if you can, do give it a read. ***
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*The present, 2 years later*

"And you're sure you don't want me to get you anything from the store?"

"No mom, I'm fine."

"But-"

"Fine, I am fine."

"...alright...I'll be back in a half hour or so..."

She gave me a look like she was about to say something more, before finally shutting my door and leaving me in peace.

I turned back to what I'd been typing on my computer; trying to find a cure, like I always was.

After Meredith had died, this was what I'd resorted to, trying to find a way to rid myself of the blasted clock in my wrist. I was sick of looking at it, every number, every tick, every pulsing feeling, it reminded me of her.

Did she know if her's was going to stop that night?

Did she even check?

Could she have changed everything that happened?

I wouldn't know, and I don't want to have mine anymore.

On the night that it happened, I tried to grip the sides of the smooth screen and pull it out, tearing at my own skin without mercy, crying bitterly, till I felt a slight pull, and it gave away slightly.

I had to bite onto my pillow to stop myself from screaming.

It had hurt so much, but I still tried, trying to dislodge it and yank it free from my skin.

But after a few days of it, I could hardly lift my arm anymore, my wrist swollen and bloody, beyond the thought of moving.

I resorted to moping for another two days, before stumbling out of bed the next morning and going to see what the internet had to say about all of it.

There was dozens of articles about these "wonder clocks", letting people live full lives and enjoy the feeling of relief that came with knowing when you would perish.

I pored over the mechanics of them for ages, scanning the list of parts and how they worked together, committing them all to memory.

I had a photographic memory, it only took me seconds to memorise how the clocks worked, what they needed to work, and why they could do what they did.

I just didn't see the purpose of them anymore; all these empty words about living your life to the fullest...all lies. Meredith didn't know she was about to die when she did, she didn't live her life. The stupid things were good for nothing, so if I could get rid of them-get rid of mine-maybe I'd have half a chance at finding peace.

I reached for a screwdriver and tried to lift the screen away from my wrist, edging the tip as slowly as I could against the side. I'd tried this so many times already, and it had never worked. It was kind of a distraction from never getting closer to the answer, the pain helped me focus.

It felt like peeling away a scab that hadn't fully healed, it could've been skin for how it felt. My veins snaked around it, twisting and twining, turning darker around the edges. I hated looking at it, and even now, avoided looking at the numbers and tried to pry the screen off.

The doorbell ringing suddenly startled me, and I jumped and swore, blood starting to trickle from the cut I'd made beside the screen.

Grabbing a tissue and pressing it to my wrist, I stood up and went to go answer it, cursing my mom for forgetting her key. She'd probably forgotten something else too, and had come back to get it. Or she'd gotten worried and had come back to check on me, in thought as I descended the stairs, she had made it a habit since I'd quit going to school.

I opened the door, still looking down to the sodden tissue, which was rapidly turning red.

"Forget your key again mom?"

"Ah...it's not your mom..."

I looked up at that voice, and my heart contracted. For a second, time seemed to stop, and I couldn't breathe. That voice...that voice I hadn't heard in two years...

"Meredith?"

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AN: Hi there, thank you for reading the first part of my story! I'm planning on updating weekly, but I can't promise I will, please do vote if you liked it, and comment if you think there's something I should work on. ~CTC