Killing Time

Chapter 3

Fear flooded my eyes in the tears that streamed down my face. I feared of screwing up, leaving the entire world an abomination. I feared leaving everything behind, and never being able to come back. I feared getting lost, stuck in The Time. Most of all, I feared losing myself and I feared who I might become. Going into The Time meant giving up—my life. I wanted to refuse, but that would only lead in my banishment. Banishment was not a term often used by people in my community, for the circumstances were harsh. I imagined my mother's response if I told her I wanted to refuse—a dead, lifeless stare provided with disappointment. Nobody understood how I felt, not even I. For if I left into The Time, it would mean giving up my battle; my battle with death.

My emotions cluttered my brain. I could feel the anger vibrating like tiny ants in my fingertips. Strangely, I felt a sudden craving for my daily dose of sedatives. My veins were dry, like frozen ice. A hot, sizzling need for intoxicants tainted my lips. I scrambled around the room, searching. My shaky hands knocked over trays. A wave of anger welled up in me for every second that I couldn't find the injections. I struggled, fighting against myself and the mere thoughts of my peculiar mind. My fight was no longer against death, it was against myself. I had finally started to become one of Them. I ran into a Medic with a look of utter disgust.

"I don't want to lose! I don't want to lose the battle!" I screamed, uneffectively flailing my arms as the Medic grabbed at my wrists, trying to keep me from attacking.

A second Medic came to assist in the process of controlling me. I felt like a fish out of water, gasping for air. The Medics tugged at my arms as I pulled away. A Patrol Officer approached with a set of handcuffs. I panicked, shoving away one of the Medics. My dainty hands coiled into veiny fists that smashed against the Medic's cranium. As I kicked the Medic, the Patrol Officer grabbed my arms. I felt a cold, icy metal against my skin. He clicked the handcuffs on me, pinching my wrists. I was shockingly distraught at the sight of the Keeper knocking down both Medics. The Officer stood motionless and appauled, knowing that according to the rules he could not fight this man back as he did me. With one quick blow, the Officer was unconscious. I prepared to flee, just as the Keeper wiped his forehead and singlehandedly tossed me a metal cylindrical object. Confused, I caught it in my hands, as the Keeper planted his gaze into my eyes; I saw not virulence in his mind, but unease at his concern for me. Addled and in fear of being too hesitant, I ran.

I ran out of the room, past the guards, without consent. I ran far enough so that I could imagine I was away from the wrecked reality of my world. My legs were numb like wood, with the feeling of the icy wind hitting against my skin. I could feel my tracker vibrating under my skin. It was a bloody red color. I had ran past the boundary; the board was indefinetly aware of my relocation and tracking me in the process. I continued running past bleached white, rounded shelters. The community seemed so empty, with only long fields of stringy vibrant grass. It was all too happy; the grass too bright, and the houses too clean. It was all fake.

My legs began dying out as I decided to stop near a vacant shelter. I slowly walked up to the door monitor, hoping it wouldn't detect me. In one quick move, I hit the center of the monitor with the handcuffs that chained my hands. The screen cracked into millions of crystal shards. The door slid open and I entered, closing it behind me. I finally fell onto the glass floor, relieving myself from the exhaustion that weighed me down. Suddenly I remembered the object that the Keeper had tossed to me, and I took it out and examined it. It was smooth on the sides with no edges, but long enough to fit in an old keyhole. Noticing a small circular hole on my handcuffs I inserted the object into it. Just as I had suspected, it fit. I turned the key slightly to the left, receiving a loud click and the alleviation of the pain around my wrists. The handcuffs came free, and I threw them onto the floor. Deliriously confused, I began sobbing. The moment of when I panicked ran through my head like a broken record, and the thought that came with it left me with unease; I had become infected. I could feel the fury pulsating through my body, just as it had when I attacked the Medics. There was only one explanation; I was one of Them.

What did this mean for me? What did this mean about me entering the Time? It was somewhat relieving, to think that this would prohibit me from completing the mission I was granted, but I could not tell anyone. If I did, I would be persecuted, Eliminated. There would be no Time Traveler to take my place in entering into the Time. This madness could not aggrandize, and if I was Eliminated it would leave no hope for resolution. There would be no cure. I paced, in a state of ambivalence. I could not abandon my family; my brother needed to be looked after, for my mother was a moving machine, a ticking time-bomb. Suddenly I gasped, frozen. My family. If I was infected with this infirmity, it meant my family was too. The mental sepsis was not transmitted from my father—he was quarantined during a trial—meaning that it had come from one of my unit members.

Half-heartedly, I bolted up from the floor and slammed past the door to the unit. A sleek, white motorbike stood propped beside the unit garage. I plopped myself down onto the soft, leather seat and cranked the gas pedal. I drove as fast as I could past the community, the units surrounding me presented as a blur of white. From afar, I could see I was near my unit shelter. As soon as I reached it, I got off the motorbike, carelessly throwing it towards the fake grass. I ran up to the door, expecting it to be locked. My dirty, shaky fingers attempted to smudge its imprints onto the detection screen. I panicked as it continuously denied to unlock. Slamming my fists against the glass, I noticed the sillhouette of my mother standing motionless. Her back faced me, her head tilted towards the ground, as if she was examining something that had fallen. I belched for her to unlock the door, she gave no response, not even a finger twitched at my exclamations. Tension grew in my jaws and fists. I NEEDED to open the door. I slammed my torso against the glass, as the door fell to the floor along with me. A sharp pain in my chest suffocated me as the breath knocked out of my lungs.

"Mother!" I yelled in pain and guilt at the news I would bring to her, how I would send her a warning about the disease.

She continued as still as a statue. My mind stopped screaming and my broken ribs stopped aching, as I stood up from the cracked glass and recognized the small whimpering body she hovered over. It was the cold, dead body of my brother spread out before her eyes. His lips parted, as if his final words to her were begging cries of "stop". In that moment, my heart was an icicle. Tears pouring from my eyes, fell into the puddle of blood on the floor. A knife impaled him in the stomach as the red liquid continued to seep from his clothes uncontrollably. My weak knees crashed to the ground before my brother.

"Mom why didn't you tell me! I could have helped you, this wouldn't have happpened! YOU- YOU KILLED HIM!" I cried at my mother, rage spitting at her face, as I caressed my brother and stroked his cold cheek.

She continued to stare at me with droopy, emotionless eyes as I shouted vulger thoughts at her face.

"MOM! WHY AREN'T YOU LISTENING? LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE! YOU'VE KILLED YOUR SON! YOU'RE JUST LIKE DAD!"

In that moment I realized my mother was not there. That was not my mother and I should have known. My mother had not been there for a while. I had lost my mother two years ago, after my father's Elimination. It was my fault, I should have noticed. My mother was gone, just as was my brother. Within a blink, I felt a cold, icy metal weapon slide its way inside the side of my torso. I spazzed in pain; not the pain of a stab wound, but the pain of a heartbreak.